Jenna’s road trip with her baby son takes a chilling detour when they discover a town where every roof is painted green and modern technology is forbidden. As she navigates the eerie streets and confronts the unsettling locals, Jenna uncovers secrets that make her desperate to escape.
I should have known better than to trust the GPS, but there I was, a 29-year-old single mom on a road trip with my 1-year-old son, Noah. After my divorce, I decided to take a spontaneous road trip to clear my mind and bond with my little boy.
It was supposed to be an adventure: just the two of us exploring new places and finding solace in the open road. Noah had been a trooper, babbling happily in his car seat as we sang along to nursery rhymes.
But after three hours on the highway, the GPS instructed me to take a turn onto an old, bumpy road. I hesitated, glancing at the map. It didn’t look like the main route, but sometimes the scenic route could be more fun, right? Oh, how wrong I was.
After an hour of driving on this desolate road, it became clear that I was lost. Noah started getting fussy, his little cries growing louder by the minute. Desperate to find a place to pull over and feed him, I continued driving until I stumbled upon a town.
It was the strangest place I’d ever seen. There was no welcome sign, no indication of its name, and every single roof was painted a vibrant green. It looked odd but harmless enough. Little did I know, the oddity was just beginning.
I drove slowly through the quiet streets, searching for a familiar fast-food joint or a gas station. Nothing. Just rows of one-story houses with those unnerving green roofs.
Finally, I spotted an old, shady diner. Noah’s cries were becoming more frantic, so I pulled into the empty lot and parked. The diner looked like it hadn’t seen a customer in years, but I had no other option.
As I walked in, clutching Noah to my chest, three pairs of eyes turned to stare at me.
Two men were sitting at a table, and an elderly lady stood behind the counter. Their stares were intense as if I had intruded on something private.
“Um… Are you guys open? I wanted to order lunch for my son. To go,” I said, trying to sound confident.
Admitting that I was lost felt like a bad idea. The old lady gave me a once-over, but it was one of the men who spoke up.
“Leave your phone in the car, and then your son can eat here.”
My heart skipped a beat. The place was eerily quiet: no radio, no TV, not even a cash register. Just a suffocating silence.
“Okay,” I said cautiously and headed back to the car. Instead of leaving my phone, I turned the sound off and slipped it into my pocket. No signal out here anyway.
When I reentered the diner, the air felt heavier. I sat down and glanced at the menu, trying to ignore the way the two men were watching me. Finally, they approached my table and sat down without asking.
Up close, they didn’t look as menacing. One was overweight with a kind face, and the other seemed like a nerdy guy who might have been bullied in school. Still, they were strangers in this strange town.
“We’ll let the baby eat, but in return, you will never come back here. Got it?” the overweight man said, his voice calm but firm.
I nodded, my heart pounding. “Got it. I just need some oatmeal and fruit for him.”
The elderly lady disappeared into the back, and the two men stayed at my table. “What’s your name?” the nerdy guy asked.
“Jenna,” I replied, bouncing Noah gently to calm him. “And this is Noah.”
“I’m Bill, and this is Frank,” the nerdy guy said, pointing to the overweight man. “You must be wondering about the town.”
“You could say that,” I answered, forcing a smile.
Frank leaned in, his expression serious. “This place is off the grid. No internet, no phones. People here like to keep it that way.”
Bill nodded. “We had someone like you come through a few years back. She didn’t follow the rules.”
“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“She left, and she didn’t come back. Same as you will,” Frank said, leaning back in his chair.
I was terrified. Every nerve in my body told me to forget about the order, grab Noah, and run as fast as possible. But what if they had done something to my car? What if there was no escape?
“That funny phone of yours, you know that it listens, right?” Bill, the skinny guy, asked me, distracting me from my escape plans.
He took off his glasses, pretending to clean them with a diner napkin. His eyes squinted in a way that made me feel like he could see right through my polite nods.
I forced a smile, still bouncing Noah gently. “Uh, yeah, technology these days, huh?”
Bill leaned closer, lowering his voice. “So does the radio in your car and so does that baby camera you probably have.”
I nodded, trying to look interested while inside I was screaming, “How long does it take to make a bowl of oatmeal?”
“This is why we don’t tolerate this crap in our town,” Frank, the bigger guy, interrupted. “We respect our privacy. No TV, no radio in here, and we are doing just fine.”
“Uh-huh,” I replied, holding Noah tighter. His little hand reached up to my face, and I kissed it, trying to stay calm.
The men droned on about their conspiracy theories, listing all the things they didn’t “tolerate” in their town.
Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I coughed to cover the sound, and in a panic, blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “The roofs! Why are all the roofs green? Was there a sale or something?”
The question seemed to distract them. Frank gave me a puzzled look, but then he grinned. “The satellites. If the roof is green, the satellite can’t see your house; it mistakes it for grass. Real grass roofs would work better, but they are too expensive.”
I highly doubted his explanation, but I didn’t care. The old lady finally emerged from the kitchen with a few to-go boxes stacked in a white plastic bag with no diner branding or even a print.
“Here you go,” she said, handing me the bag. I slapped a $20 bill on the table, grabbed the bag, and hurried out of the diner with a quick “Goodbye.”
I strapped Noah into his car seat, my hands shaking. As I reached for my car door, the old lady rushed out of the diner, calling after me.
“Wait! Wait!”
Panic surged through me. I jumped into the car and locked all the doors. She reached my driver’s window and knocked on it. My heart raced as I rolled it down just enough to hear her.
What did she want? Was she going to ask me to stay? Or worse, tell me something terrifying? What would I tell her then? That I’m not a fan of green roofs?
She handed me something wrapped in a bunch of napkins. I took it with a shaky hand. “I forgot to give you the cutlery.”
I unwrapped the napkins to see a couple of plastic forks and knives. “Thank you,” I managed to say before turning the key and flooring it out of there.
As I sped away, the town with its green roofs slowly vanished in my rearview mirror. I just kept driving, following the winding road until it led me back to civilization: a normal highway with gas stations, fast food chains, and random stores.
When I finally pulled into a gas station, I parked and let out a deep breath. Noah was asleep in his car seat, blissfully unaware of the weirdness we’d just escaped. I checked my phone. It had a signal again. I immediately called my best friend, Claire.
“Jenna! I was worried sick! Where have you been?”
“Claire, you wouldn’t believe it,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I ended up in this bizarre town where every roof was painted green. They don’t have TVs, radios, or even cash registers!”
“What? That sounds like something out of a horror movie!”
“I know, right? They made me leave my phone in the car because they believed it listened to everything. I pretended to but kept it with me. Thank God, because now I can call you.”
“Did they hurt you or Noah?”
“No, but it was so creepy. They even told me that I couldn’t come back once I left. And then there was this old lady who ran out to give me cutlery as if that was the most important thing.”
Claire sighed in relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Promise me you won’t take any more strange detours.”
“Promise,” I said, feeling a bit lighter. “I’m sticking to the main roads from now on.”
We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up and took a moment to breathe. I looked at Noah, still peacefully asleep. I reached back and stroked his soft cheek. “We’re okay, sweetheart,” I whispered. “We’re okay.”
I got out of the car to stretch my legs, replaying everything in my mind. The town, the green roofs, the eerie silence: it all felt like a bad dream. But as I glanced at the bag of food on the passenger seat, I knew it had been real.
I bought some gas and grabbed a coffee, trying to shake off the lingering unease. As I drove off, I kept checking my rearview mirror, half expecting to see those green roofs pop up again. But all I saw was the open road ahead, leading us back to safety.
I still don’t know what that town was all about, but one thing’s for sure: I’m never going back. As the miles rolled on, Noah woke up and started babbling again. I smiled, turning on the radio to drown out the thoughts of that strange place. We had our adventure, and now it was time to head home.
The highway stretched out before us, and I knew that no matter how far we traveled, the memory of that eerie town would stay with me. But as long as we were together, I could face anything.
Noah’s laughter filled the car, and I couldn’t help but laugh along. We were safe, and that was all that mattered.
Do you think I handled things correctly? What would you have done in my place?