Finally, someone pulled over. It was an old red Toyota pickup truck with rust around the wheel casings. It wasn’t one of those ass-kicker pickups that looked like they could joust with a minotaur and win. It looked more like the little brother of one of those trucks. I dropped my thumb and jogged up to where it had stopped.
I yanked the passenger-side open and climbed in. The interior smelled of beer, decaying food, and (vaguely) manure. My driver was, I guessed, probably not much over twenty-five, but, as a result of a lifetime of work, looked more like fifty. He had a few days of brown growth across his face and neck. A ragged and dirty John Deere cap sat on his head. A fly crawled across the bill of the cap.
He looked me up and down.
“What’s your dest’?” he asked in what it took a little while to identify as a thick New England accent.
“Uhm, I’m trying to get to the city, I guess,” I responded.
“Alright. Lucky f’r you I’m goin’ righ’ through there.”
“Oh, great.”
“What’s your business in th’ city?”
“Oh, I’m, uh, meeting a friend.”
“You go’n’ see a play?”
“Excuse me?”
“Go’n’ see one o’ them Broadway plays?”
“Oh, uh, maybe? I’m not really the one making the plans. I think my friend has some, though.”
“Yu’. I never did one o’ them play ‘fore. Always wan’ed to, though.”
I really had no way to respond to that, so I just stayed quiet and nodded vaguely.
“Qui’ the show las’ nigh’.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You see th’ moon las’ nigh’?”
I’d sort of forgotten that I wasn’t the only one seeing strange things.
“Oh, um, yeah. Pretty wild, huh?”
“Been a long time since I saw sunthing like tha’.”
“You’ve… you’ve seen that happen before?”
“Mmm. ‘Sbeen a couple thousan’ years at leas’.”
“A, a couple thousand years, did you say?”
“At leas’.”
“How, how is that possible?”
“Well, you di’n’ think jus’ anyone was gonna pick ya up, didjuh?”
I was getting royally freaked out.
“Hey, could you just pull over right here and drop me off? I think I saw my friend.”
“I though’ you was goin’ t’ the city.”
“Uh, no. My plans changed?”
“Nah, I don’ think so.”
“Are you gonna kill me?”
“No’ righ’ now.”
“Before we get to the city?”
“Can’.”
“You can’t?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Orders.”
“Orders? From who?”
“Downstairs.”
There didn’t seem to be an appropriate response.
“I go’ a message f’r ya.”
“Who from?”
“Downstairs. Now shut y’r yap. Y’re a par’ of sunthin’ a lot bigger’n you. You go’ y’r role, jus’ like the rest o’ us. Y’ jus’ gotta hear this: Where y’re goin’, there’s go’n’ be some people gonna try’n’ hurt ya. Bu’ they go’ their parts t’play too. Don’ worry ‘bout them. They don’ concern ya righ’ now. Jus’ ride it out. There’s folks in high places lookin’ out f’r ya. We all jus’ wan’ ya t’know it’ll be a-ok.”
“…”
“Oh yeah, an’ also, even when things aren’ goin’ y’r way, or it seems like it, we’re all on the same side.”
The truck glided to a gentle stop. We were, miraculously, in a parking spot in Manhatten. I had no recollection of ever even entering the city. It was as if it had simply materialized around us. We were next to the entrance to a subway station.
“What…? How…? Where are we?” I asked.
“We’re at y’r stop, Chuck.”
I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Where, uh, where should I go?” I said, turning back, but I was talking to an empty parking space.
“Thanks for the lift…”
On a hunch, I descended into the metro station.
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