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Addict
Join Date: Sep 2004
Location: vermont
Posts: 139
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Hindsight
This is something that I wrote a few days ago, after coming home from seeing the Incredibles. I'd had the idea bouncing around in my head for a few days and it all just spilled out onto the paper.
Hindsight
“Jesus Christ, not again!”
James Colefield stared into his rear-view mirror at the Mercedes behind him. Every few minutes or so, the vehicle’s headlights would flash quickly and then go silent again.
Beside him, Carol turned in her seat to look through the rear windsheild and pulled the seatbelt around the bulge in the front of her blouse.
“They’re just tailgating, Honey, relax.”
James adjusted the mirror again and settled his shoulders into the back of his seat.
“They keep flashing their damn lights at me. And I know there’s nothing wrong with the car.”
Carol turned back towards the front of the car and pushed at the passenger-side mirror through her open window. She readjusted the seatbelt under her protruding belly and stared at the headlights of the SUV behind them. After a few moments she turned back to James.
“They’re a little close, but I don’t—“
“There! There, they did it again!” James pointed triumphantly at the rear-view mirror. The headlights of the Mercedes were flashing on and off rapidly.
Carol glanced at the rear-view and then turned back to the side mirror.
“Maybe they want you to go faster.”
“No.” James shook his head. “No, they never want me to go any faster.”
Carol leaned her seat back and arched an eyebrow at the back of James’s head.
“They?”
“It’s been going on for a few weeks now.”
“What, people tailgating you?” Carol curled her right arm behind her head and closed her eyes. “It happens to the best of us, James.”
“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you do that.”
“Okay, Honey.”
Carol’s voice was distant; she was hardly paying attention, half asleep.
James glanced at her and then pulled his eyes back up to the road. She was beautiful, he thought. Always had been and always would be.
Every few minutes or so he checked the rear-view, and most of the time the lights were flashing.
“This’s been happening for the past few weeks. Someone appears out of nowhere, flashes their lights like it’s the fourth of july for an hour, and then eventually takes a different turn, usually when I’m about to stop. It’s freaking me out a little.”
“Okay, Honey.”
James looked down a Carol.
“I’m serious, Honey, I—Woah!” James looked back up at the road and wrenched the wheel to the right, swerving back into the right lane and narrowly missing a head-on collision with a semi. The truck’s droning roar faded into the distance and James eased his iron grip on the steering wheel slightly. He was breathing hard and heavy.
“Jesus!”
Carol lurched and sat up.
“Not in front of the baby!”
“Did you see what just happened?”
James glanced at Carol and then quickly back to the road. His eyes flicked to the rear-view and the Mercedes was still there, as close as ever despite the near accident.
It’s not a baby yet. And I’m not getting into that discussion right now. I’m serious, Honey, this is all freaking me out.”
Carol leaned back in her seat again and draped her right arm across her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Dear.”
Her stomach gurgled and the bulge above her waistline moved impatiently.
“Can we stop somewhere? I’m dying of hunger.”
“Yeah.” James was staring at the Mercedes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Get this asshole off my tail at least.”
He tore his eyes from the rear-view and scanned the road ahead.
“There’s a diner coming up. You want to stop there?”
Carol bumped herself up on to her elbows.
“If they have food and a bathroom, I’ll call it heaven and the owner God.”
James pushed down on the accelerator, eager to get off the road and be left alone.
Too slowly, the diner approached and he gladly turned into its wide parking lot. But, when he looked in the mirror, instead of seeing the Mercedes rushing past and on into the distance, it was right behind him, right blinker going like mad; it was following them.
James stared and almost ran into a parked sedan.
“This is new…” James’s voice was low and he stared at the SUV as he parked. It drove slowly across and parked on the far side of the parking lot.
“What, Honey?”
Beside him, Carol was struggling to sit upright. James reached over and placed his hand behind her back. He braced his left foot beside the clutch and heaved. Carol regained the vertical position and pulled on the lever below her right thigh. The back of her seat snapped up and stopped sharply against her shoulder blades.
“Thanks, I needed that.”
“Anytime, Honey.”
James leaned across the e-brake and pecked her on the cheek.
Then, he turned, pulled the key out of the ignition, and jumped out of the car, running around to help Carol out of her door.
“Thanks, Honey.”
“Yup.”
James received a peck of his own.
Using James for support, Carol managed to make her way across the parking lot and up the stairs of the diner. As they walked, James watched the driver of the Mercedes get out of the SUV.
He was a smallish, non-descript person, with fairly close-cropped brown hair that looked as if it had been cut recently, and wearing what looked like a tan track suit; the type with pants that buttoned down the sides and a jacket to match; the kind where the crotch of the pants made a swish-swish sound when you walked.
By the time James had soaked all of this in, they were at the door and then inside the diner.
They were greeted by a friendly young man, shown to a table, handed menus, and left to occupy themselves with the task of deliberating over what meals they would order. And according to the waiter, the soup was “absolutely excellent!”
James had an open view of the door and watched, as casually as he could, waiting for the driver to come in.
Shortly, the waiter returned and asked for their preference in drinks. James managed a muttered “coke…small” and the sprightly young man left them again.
In between his second and third visits, returning with their drinks and letting them order, the driver stepped through the door.
As James watched, he was seated against the far wall of the diner, at a table for two.
James had ordered clam chowder, given the waiter his menu, and was now leaning on the table with his chin in hand, stealing furtive glances in the driver’s direction. Every so often, it seemed as if he were looking away just as James peered his way.
Must be my imagination, thought James.
“I wonder if he’s waiting for someone.”
“What, Dear?”
“Huh?”
James was startled out of his reverie by Carol leaning across the table and turning his head so he was looking at her.
“What did you way?”
James dropped his chin and fiddled with the placemat in front of him.
“Nothing, Honey, just idle musings, mumbling to myself.”
“Too much time spent driving, huh?”
James nodded. “I suppose.” He leaned across the table and kissed Carol.
Soon, their food arrived and James forgot about the driver for a while.
Every now and then, it would nudge at the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside, content to listen to Carol as she blathered away about her co-workers and girlfriends.
Slowly, they finished the food on their plates and pushed them towards the center of the table. Clutching its dully-shining surface, Carol climbed to her feet and smiled down at James.
“I’m going to find the ladies’s room.”
“Okay, take as long as you want, Honey.”
James grabbed her hand, kissed the middle knuckle and she walked towards the back of the diner.
The waiter brought the check and James signed the appropriate line and placed his VISA in the appropriate slot before he noticed that the driver was gone; the table that he had been sitting at was empty. Outside in the parking lot though, the Mercedes was still sitting placidly where the driver had parked it.
He shrugged and figured the driver was in the men’s room.
He was still staring out through the front windows of the diner when someone cleared their throat next to him. It sounded very much like the waiter.
James turned, swept his eyes across the table and over its edge, and the first thing he saw was a pair of tan track pants; the swish-swish kind.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you, but can I have your autograph?”
James’s eyes continued to track upwards, over the shining contours of the pants and jacket. When he got to the driver’s face, he stopped breathing.
It was perfectly normal, if a bit artificial-looking in its evenly proportioned-ness, but the eyes were what stopped James’s heart; they were a bright, vivid purple, shining so brightly under the diner’s lights they almost looked as if they were glowing.
“I’m sorry?” James had never really done anything noteworthy, at least nothing that would give anyone the desire to ask for his signature. It wasn’t worth anything to anyone except for the bank, and at that hardly anything.
“I said, may I have your—“
James cut him off.
“No, no, I heard you but…you want my autograph? What for, I’m nobody special.”
The driver slid into Carol’s seat and pushed a small piece of paper, stark
white, and a pen across the table.
“You’re plenty famous where I come from. Well, well-known at least.”
James sat back in his seat, not touching the paper or pen.
“But, I’m not famous to anyone. Maybe back in high school, but that was a long time ago. Nothing that matters to anyone anymore, not even me.”
“Actually, I’d like to hear…“
James silenced the driver with a glare and stared at him. He was quite young, barely old enough to have his license probably.
“Look, Kid, I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not him. And that shit you pulled out on the road was uncalled for.” He jabbed in the boy’s direction with a forefinger.
The kid had been leaning across the table in anticipation, but as James spoke, he slowly pulled away from it and slumped in his chair.
“Look,” he said, “I’m sorry. And I know I’ve got the guy I’m looking for, I know he’s a great man, and I’d like his signature. Please? I’m running out of time here.”
James stared at the boy from beneath a knotted brow, his shadowed eyes shining, reflecting the light from the overhead lamps sprinkled throughout the diner. Slowly, he reached for the pen and adjusted the piece of paper.
“I’m just doing this to get you off my back, okay?”
“Okay.”
The boy watched as James scribbled across the page, embellishing the signature he’d worked on through his youth with extra loops and swirls. Might as well make it worth the kids while, he thought.
He finished the autograph, placed the pen on the paper, and slid it across the table, standing up as he did so.
The driver stood up as James did, grabbing the paper and folding it. He unzipped his coat, placed the paper inside it, and re-zipped the coat.
He stood in front of James, watching him fom under an arched brow, as Carol had done in the car.
He cleared his throat. “There is one other thing I’d like…” The boy ducked his head and stared at his feet, clearly embarrassed.
“What, a hug?”
“Yes.” The boy was looking straight at James now, the embarrassment gone.
James was taken aback; he had only been joking. What was this kid on?
“Look,” he said as he took a step backwards, “I’ve gotta get going. My wife’s pregnant and I have to—“
“I know.”
“What?”
“I know your wife is pregnant. Can I have that hug?”
James was backing steadily away now, heading for the back of the diner and the ladies’s room. The driver slowly took one step and then another.
“Look, Kid, this is getting creepy. I need to get out of here and I don’t need any crap on my way out.”
The boy’s purple eyes flashed and a wild look contorted his features.
“No! No, please don’t go!”
Suddenly, he rushed forward, but James pushed him aside, sending him crashing into a table where four men had been watching them.
James turned and fled. He barged his way into the ladies’ room, grabbed Carol (“What are you doing!”), and rushed back out into the diner. The driver was still struggling to untangle himself from the four men as they hobbled out of the door, moving too fast for Carol to be comfortable.
“James, what the hell is going on?”
When they reached the car, he opened her door roughly and almost threw her inside. Then he slammed her door, raced around to climb in on his side and jammed the key into the ignition. He turned it roughly and the engine rumbled into life.
In the door of the diner the driver appeared, frantically searching the parking lot for their car.
“No, no!” he screamed as he saw them and jumped down the steps in front of him. He sprinted across the parking lot towards them, weaving around cars and trucks.
James jammed the car into reverse, peeled out of the parking space, and screeched to a halt. He glanced at the rear-view and saw the kid gaining on them.
He slammed the shifter into second and left rubber on the pavement of the parking lot, sending pebbles through the air at the running kid, who threw his arms up to protect his face.
The car bumped and bucked on its way out of the parking lot. James had the accelerator on the floor when they approached the exit of the parking lot and he didn’t back off, didn’t look down the road as they left the kid behind. Carol did.
“Oh my God, James! STOOOP!”
James only had enough time to glance to the left and read the word MACK emblazoned across its grill before it smashed into the left side of the car. Before he died, James felt the collapsing car door crush the left side of his body, heard bones snap, and felt the shards of what had been his window shredding the skin on his face and raking at the bone beneath.
Two hours later, Carol, who had survived the crash but lost the bottom half of both legs, gave traumatic birth to a screaming baby boy.
The paramedic who delivered him reverently handed the child to his mother, wrapped in a white towel.
“Beautiful baby boy, Ma’am. It’s damn near a miracle you made it through, let alone him. He’s gonna be a stand-out, that one. Just look at them eyes.”
THE END
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