Might as well...
Look at that, it's actually original fiction this time. In all it's rather short, slightly creepy glory. Why can't I write short stories that aren't slightly creepy? Oh well.
The Hitchhiker
As the rear passenger door opened behind him Jake stretched over the armrest and whispered in Martha’s ear, “Do you always take in hitchhikers like this?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, right.” Jake leaned back in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of their new passenger in the rearview mirror. “Well, we’ll be late for the concert at this rate.”
“No we won’t.”
“Huh.”
Martha put the car in gear and turned back into the flow of Saturday night traffic. Jake peered into the side mirror. It was hard to see the hitchhiker; he seemed to be wearing mostly black and blended into the dark seats. Couldn’t even really tell if it was a he, except Martha had said “You’re welcome, sir” when he got in, and she was usually right about these things.
Just as Jake was getting up the nerve to ask this strange person where he was going, Martha pulled over to the side of the road again.
“Here you go, sir.”
A black-gloved hand reached forward and touched her lightly on the shoulder.
“Of course, sir.” Martha turned to look at Jake. “He won’t be but a minute.”
The rear door opened and the mysterious passenger glided over to the mouth of an alley between two parking structures. Jake stared as the long black shape disappeared in the shadows, and then whipped around to look at Martha.
“And we’re just going to wait for him?”
“Yes. I told you, he won’t be but a minute.”
Jake shook his head. “You know, everyone told me you were odd, but playing ferryman for hitchhikers. There is such a thing as common sense, you know, and you could do with some…”
A sharp rap on the glass startled him and he broke off with a yelp. Someone was peering in through his window, mouthing words at him. Martha obligingly rolled the window down. A wilted mustache and puzzled face looked in.
“Sorry to bother you, but I’m a little lost. I was wondering if you could tell me…”
“Go straight to the end of this block and turn right, then go three doors down.”
The man’s expression cleared. “Thank you, miss. You have a nice night now.”
Jake watched in astonishment as the man brushed his moustache into place and then strolled off down the street, whistling. He turned back to Martha, who was still watching the road. “What was that about?”
“He needed directions.”
“But… what… but he never even said to where! How could you possibly know? Have you met him before?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.” The rear door opened. “All done, sir? Then we’ll be off again.”
They swerved back onto the street, Jake pouting in the front seat. No one whose head was as high in the clouds as Martha’s had any right to call him silly. When they passed the corner he looked down the street to see if he could find the man with the moustache, but a crowd of people blocked his view. He slid back into his seat.
Two blocks and a left turn later, Martha pulled off to the side of the road again.
“We’re never going to make the concert at this rate.”
“Yes we will. He’ll be back in a moment.”
This time Jake saw the woman heading for their car and rolled the window down first. She looked frazzled, and was holding a baby closely in her arms.
“Pardon me, but…”
“Back around that corner, across the street, the fourth shop on your left.”
The woman nodded, and seemed to calm down a bit, but she still looked worried.
“And ma’am,” Martha’s voice was soft. “Don’t worry about the baby. She’ll be fine.” Jake turned to look and caught his breath. The gentlest smile, like a butterfly, was hovering on Martha’s face. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Movement at the corner of his eye; the woman smiled in relief and nodded, hugging the baby tightly. Then she turned and walked back around the corner. Jake looked back at Martha who was watching them go. She caught his eye briefly, then turned back to face the street. The rear door opened and closed, and their passenger settled himself once more.
“Thank you, sir.”
Jake stared at her for the next three blocks, wondering.
----
They were just heading for an intersection when the passenger reached out for Martha’s shoulder.
“Got it, sir. Hold on, Jake.”
Martha turned the wheel sharply and they hurtled down a small alleyway behind some office buildings, heading for the brightly lit square of the next street at the end. Martha slammed on the brakes and the rear door opened just in time for a man to crash into their passenger as he got out of the car. The man was panting and panicked, babbling between breaths, but as the hitchhiker held him he gradually calmed down. Finally he stopped talking and stared up into the shadowed face. He smiled, and looked over at Martha and Jake.
“Thank you.”
He and the passenger turned and walked back down the alley until they were lost in the darkness.
Jake was shaking. He wasn’t sure why. Martha reached across and took his hand in hers and they sat there together as the cars passed by in front of them.
The rear door opened again, and Martha gave his hand a last squeeze before putting her hands back on the wheel and taking them out into the street. Jake thought they might be getting close to where the concert was now, but he honestly couldn’t remember what time it started or who was playing. Two stoplights later, the passenger touched Martha’s shoulder again, and she nodded and pulled over to the side of the street. She turned to look at him, and the butterfly smile was back on her face.
“It’s time. Jake, thank you for saying you’d come to the concert with me.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Butterfly wings, wet with dew. She put the car in park and put the emergency brake on, then got out, leaving the keys in the ignition. Jake watched her walk around the front of the car and take the hand of their hitchhiker. A long black coat and a black hood shading his face, the hitchhiker looked at him and a smile glinted where his mouth should be. Then he and Martha walked back out into the intersection.
Jake shut his eyes, and a minute later squealing tires told him that Martha was gone. He kept his eyes closed until he heard a knock on the window. A young police officer was bending down and looking at him in concern.
“Are you all right, sir? There was an accident just around the corner, and you weren’t moving so I thought I’d better check.”
Jake took a deep breath and smiled at her.
“I’m fine. She was wrong though, you know. We are going to miss the concert.”
The Hitchhiker
As the rear passenger door opened behind him Jake stretched over the armrest and whispered in Martha’s ear, “Do you always take in hitchhikers like this?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, right.” Jake leaned back in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of their new passenger in the rearview mirror. “Well, we’ll be late for the concert at this rate.”
“No we won’t.”
“Huh.”
Martha put the car in gear and turned back into the flow of Saturday night traffic. Jake peered into the side mirror. It was hard to see the hitchhiker; he seemed to be wearing mostly black and blended into the dark seats. Couldn’t even really tell if it was a he, except Martha had said “You’re welcome, sir” when he got in, and she was usually right about these things.
Just as Jake was getting up the nerve to ask this strange person where he was going, Martha pulled over to the side of the road again.
“Here you go, sir.”
A black-gloved hand reached forward and touched her lightly on the shoulder.
“Of course, sir.” Martha turned to look at Jake. “He won’t be but a minute.”
The rear door opened and the mysterious passenger glided over to the mouth of an alley between two parking structures. Jake stared as the long black shape disappeared in the shadows, and then whipped around to look at Martha.
“And we’re just going to wait for him?”
“Yes. I told you, he won’t be but a minute.”
Jake shook his head. “You know, everyone told me you were odd, but playing ferryman for hitchhikers. There is such a thing as common sense, you know, and you could do with some…”
A sharp rap on the glass startled him and he broke off with a yelp. Someone was peering in through his window, mouthing words at him. Martha obligingly rolled the window down. A wilted mustache and puzzled face looked in.
“Sorry to bother you, but I’m a little lost. I was wondering if you could tell me…”
“Go straight to the end of this block and turn right, then go three doors down.”
The man’s expression cleared. “Thank you, miss. You have a nice night now.”
Jake watched in astonishment as the man brushed his moustache into place and then strolled off down the street, whistling. He turned back to Martha, who was still watching the road. “What was that about?”
“He needed directions.”
“But… what… but he never even said to where! How could you possibly know? Have you met him before?”
“Of course not. Don’t be silly.” The rear door opened. “All done, sir? Then we’ll be off again.”
They swerved back onto the street, Jake pouting in the front seat. No one whose head was as high in the clouds as Martha’s had any right to call him silly. When they passed the corner he looked down the street to see if he could find the man with the moustache, but a crowd of people blocked his view. He slid back into his seat.
Two blocks and a left turn later, Martha pulled off to the side of the road again.
“We’re never going to make the concert at this rate.”
“Yes we will. He’ll be back in a moment.”
This time Jake saw the woman heading for their car and rolled the window down first. She looked frazzled, and was holding a baby closely in her arms.
“Pardon me, but…”
“Back around that corner, across the street, the fourth shop on your left.”
The woman nodded, and seemed to calm down a bit, but she still looked worried.
“And ma’am,” Martha’s voice was soft. “Don’t worry about the baby. She’ll be fine.” Jake turned to look and caught his breath. The gentlest smile, like a butterfly, was hovering on Martha’s face. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
Movement at the corner of his eye; the woman smiled in relief and nodded, hugging the baby tightly. Then she turned and walked back around the corner. Jake looked back at Martha who was watching them go. She caught his eye briefly, then turned back to face the street. The rear door opened and closed, and their passenger settled himself once more.
“Thank you, sir.”
Jake stared at her for the next three blocks, wondering.
----
They were just heading for an intersection when the passenger reached out for Martha’s shoulder.
“Got it, sir. Hold on, Jake.”
Martha turned the wheel sharply and they hurtled down a small alleyway behind some office buildings, heading for the brightly lit square of the next street at the end. Martha slammed on the brakes and the rear door opened just in time for a man to crash into their passenger as he got out of the car. The man was panting and panicked, babbling between breaths, but as the hitchhiker held him he gradually calmed down. Finally he stopped talking and stared up into the shadowed face. He smiled, and looked over at Martha and Jake.
“Thank you.”
He and the passenger turned and walked back down the alley until they were lost in the darkness.
Jake was shaking. He wasn’t sure why. Martha reached across and took his hand in hers and they sat there together as the cars passed by in front of them.
The rear door opened again, and Martha gave his hand a last squeeze before putting her hands back on the wheel and taking them out into the street. Jake thought they might be getting close to where the concert was now, but he honestly couldn’t remember what time it started or who was playing. Two stoplights later, the passenger touched Martha’s shoulder again, and she nodded and pulled over to the side of the street. She turned to look at him, and the butterfly smile was back on her face.
“It’s time. Jake, thank you for saying you’d come to the concert with me.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Butterfly wings, wet with dew. She put the car in park and put the emergency brake on, then got out, leaving the keys in the ignition. Jake watched her walk around the front of the car and take the hand of their hitchhiker. A long black coat and a black hood shading his face, the hitchhiker looked at him and a smile glinted where his mouth should be. Then he and Martha walked back out into the intersection.
Jake shut his eyes, and a minute later squealing tires told him that Martha was gone. He kept his eyes closed until he heard a knock on the window. A young police officer was bending down and looking at him in concern.
“Are you all right, sir? There was an accident just around the corner, and you weren’t moving so I thought I’d better check.”
Jake took a deep breath and smiled at her.
“I’m fine. She was wrong though, you know. We are going to miss the concert.”