“No, you do not. Just as we would not accept that a vehicle exists simply because there is a number here in my quote sys——”

“Shut up and listen!” She had shouted this. She wasn’t sure she had ever shouted on the phone before. “My son is missing. My car is missing. I need to find him, and I need a car to do that. I have no time for your absurd logic.”

“Absurd logic is an oxymoron.”

“Absurd logic!” she had screamed into the phone.

“Hissssssssssssssss!” the representative had replied.

“You are an insurance company. I pay you to replace or repair my vehicle, or compensate me in the event that something happens to my vehicle. Something has happened to my vehicle.”

No response.

“I need a car because I need my son. Can you understand me? Can you sympathize here? Just a small amount of compassion to get this done?”

Another long silence.

“Are you—” she had said.

“Yes. We’re still here.”

“Have you—”

“Quiet, Diane. We heard you. We are sorry. Give us a moment. This is difficult for us. Hearing that a customer has a missing child hurts us deeply. Please give us some space.”

Diane had held back another eruption. Of the stages of grief, Diane had already gone through denial, sadness, and despair. Now she had been on the verge of the final step, vengeance.

The voice on the other end, clearly crying, had said: “We’ll see what we can do. It will take no more than two weeks.”

“Two weeks.”

“This is hard on us, too,” the representative had sobbed. Diane had hung up.

The cab pulled up to the airport. Night Vale Airport is not big. Most of the planes are propeller planes, private planes, secret military drones, and government planes that are used to make chemtrails, but she found a commuter airline to fly her from Night Vale to King City. She was one of four people on board the twenty-seat plane.

She had never flown before, having never left Night Vale. She wasn’t sure whether she was a nervous flier or not, but the plane certainly felt small and fragile. It took off with a whirring shudder, and she felt dizzy as it rose through the clouds. She leaned her head against the window, but the rough ride caused her to bump her head against the hard plastic, making it impossible to sleep, so she watched the red flatness of the desert pass slowly below them. She looked out to the horizon, wondering if she could ever believe in mountains again having seen this flatness from above, and whether anyone would ever learn what clouds were made of. It was probably best we never know.