There was no one in either front seat, but the wheel turned slightly in response to the road, and I could see the pedals being worked by some unseen weight.

“How…” was all I could say.

“All in good time, Mr. Invisible Girl Lover, all in good time. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the ride.” Which I did, or tried to do.

After a couple of minutes, another car pulled up to us and matched our speed. A middle-aged woman was driving, and she clearly appeared to be lost. She appeared to be trying to get the driver’s attention, making me wonder just what she saw when she looked over into the car.

“Uh, this woman’s trying to get your attention,” I said uncertainly.

“So she is,” the voice from the driver’s seat replied.

“Aren’t you going to see what she wants?”

“Why?” the voice asked.

“Maybe she only wants directions. Maybe I can help her.”

After some hesitation, the voice said, “Alright, I’ll roll down your window, but if you try anything foolish, like showing your cuffs, you’ll wind up in more trouble than you’re in now.”

The left rear window rolled down. The other driver realized the rear window was down and looked in bewilderment toward the front seat of the car, then at me. She slowed so that her window would be aligned with my open window and asked, “Do you know which exit is Kennedy Boulevard?”

I knew Kennedy was exit 34, but I hadn’t seen the last exit. “What was the last exit we passed?” I asked aloud. “33,” the voice answered, after some hesitation.

I shouted out the window, “It’s the next exit.” The woman signaled thank you and sped up to pass, glaring toward my driver as she did so.

“How could she see you?” I asked.

“You ask a lot of questions for a prisoner, you know that?” said the first voice, the one that seemed to come from the gloves. “If you MUST know, the outer surfaces of the windows are actually video display units. She was seeing a projected image. Your image was being projected from the rear windows.”

“Did you say prisoner?” I repeated.

“Yeah, prisoner,” the gloves repeated, as an unseen finger jabbed me in the chest. “You have to pay the price for your transgression.”

“What transgression? What are you talking about? And why can’t I see anyone inside this car?” I was beginning to think I was going crazy. Who wouldn’t, when it seemed like they were being kidnapped by a driverless car and being taunted by talking gloves?

I tried to relieve my mind by asking plenty of questions, which only seemed to irritate my captor(s). Once the driver had had enough, I was told to sit back and shut up. I wouldn’t do it, and so a couple of black satin gloves emerged from slots in the seatback, one on each side of me, and firmly grasped my arms and pulled me back. Then a black cloth, which I guessed was the same cloth I had been blindfolded with earlier, was tied around my mouth. “Bet you’ll sit back and shut up now,” the driver taunted.

As the afternoon wore on, we progressed from the highway, to an unfamiliar main thoroughfare, to a less-traveled main road, to a lonely back road. After a mile or so on the back road, we pulled into a smooth but unpaved driveway. I saw, at the end of the driveway, a large imposing house, a mansion really.

When we pulled up in front of the house, the gloves let go of me and my gag was untied. The door opened by itself, but before I could move to get out, I felt something pulling on my cuffs. There was nothing attached that I could see, but whatever was pulling me was definitely pulling by the cuffs. I yielded to the pull and walked about halfway to the house before I just stopped in my tracks.

“Why are you stopping?” the bossy female voice asked from somewhere in front of me. Until that point, I had no idea that anyone (or anything) was walking with me. I looked around and didn’t see any footprints, but the voice had definitely come from right in front of me. I didn’t answer; I just stood there and defied my captors, whoever or whatever they were.

“Fine,” the bossy voice said after a few more seconds. At that point whatever was pulling on my cuffs just started dragging me toward the house. I didn’t put up any fight, but I did wonder what an onlooker would think if they saw a handcuffed man lying on the ground, being dragged hands-first by the handcuffs themselves.

When I reached the front door, I was pulled to my feet. I was actually pulled into the air and then placed standing on the ground, which was fine with me. I had no intention to be dragged any further. The door opened and inside was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen.

A twentysomething caramel-skinned Hispanic woman with large gray-green eyes, curly shoulder-length brown hair, and a quick smile was standing there, as if she were waiting for me. I wondered if she was being punished for some “transgression” also. I couldn’t have guessed anything further from the truth.