Bad Memories

“Hell, would you open your mouth and talk? I’m going nuts and we’re way behind schedule.”

My passenger sighed.

“What do you want me to say?” Erik Ford asked.

“Hell, anything is better than listening to road noise for the last ninety miles,” I smirked. “I’ve been pushing this rig as fast as I can. Now, I can’t stand country music and I don’t know Spanish, so the damn radio is no good. And I can’t get into those audio books since we drop cell signal every time the story is getting good.”

I grinned to myself.

“Partner, since it’s our first route together, give me your life’s story or something.”

Erik looked at me with those sad brown eyes, then his attention went back to the road. While I didn’t know him well, I noticed his changing demeanor as we drove Route 5. It was a long, bumpy stretch of pothole filled highway. Also, few other vehicles traveled the route, especially after night fell. Ford’s normally reserved expression gradually turned gloomier since we left Havre.

We were on the long haul and had one more stop at Scobey, which we needed to get to before midnight when the store closed. Convenience stores always need their soda and other drinks. Because of our long routes, I drove a cab-over semitrailer which carried plenty of plastic bottles loaded with carbonated drinks. The trailer had side doors which allowed us easy access to the crates of two-liter bottles inside.

During the day, I noticed he was a good worker, hauling out the heavy loads on a dolly from the trailer without complaint. And he remained mostly silent even when I changed the order to accommodate our inventory. Yet, his growing agitation started bothering me as the day progressed. The guy sat bolt upright in the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixated on the road while he continued tapping one foot on the floorboard. The man’s expression looked almost as desolate as the open land around us. Still, Erik appeared to be looking for something in the wide-open Montana countryside.

“Well, I’m not a very pleasant person,” he finally stated. “Mr. Smith liked to listen to his music as he drove and always kept his headphones over his ears. I’ve been riding shotgun on these delivery routes for several years. I guess I got used to the quiet.”

Erik hesitated for a moment.

“And other things…”

I grunted my acknowledgement, wondering why the guy used the title of mister for his former partner. After all, they were about the same age, and I heard they were friends. I thought Ford’s disappointment came because his friend no longer did the long hauls.

“Everybody wants to climb the corporate ladder. I heard Smithy wanted to stay home with the wife and kids more, so he took a regional manager’s job. What about you? You should have taken over this route as the driver. Let the company hire a young kid to do most of the grunt work as your partner.”

Ford went quiet at my statement, his eyes now focused on the radio in the dashboard. He stared at the display that showed the time and let out a knowing sigh.

“You seem awfully antsy, like you’re ready to explode. You can listen to the radio if it helps.” I pointed out.

Erik shook his head, brushing his long hair back out of his face. He went quiet again. After a moment, I dug further. I got a vibe he wanted to talk but was unwilling to for some reason.

“Is it something I said to you?” I asked. “You’re not mad at the company, are you?”

The thin man chuckled, then went back to staring out the window.

“Mad as in a Hatter, maybe.” A smile crept to his lips as he seemed to decide.

“Alright, I’ll tell you a bit about myself. This is my twelfth job since dropping out of college. I’m single and I can’t find a girl. No, it’s more like I don’t want the responsibility of having a girlfriend, definitely not now. Oh, yeah, and I’ll be thirty at midnight — the big three-o.”

I glanced over with a bemused grin.

“Well, that’s a start,” I said. “Congratulations on the birthday.”

The passenger nodded, then frowned.

“Oh, it’s not a celebration day. I tried to kill myself last night, so I didn’t have to face my thirtieth birthday.”

Obviously, I turned my head to him at his statement.

“You didn’t! That’s just — well.”

“Say, get your eyes back on the road!” Erik ordered while I stared at him in shock from his statement.

We were on a long curve and the back wheels of our long trailer veered over the rumble strips next to the emergency lane off the highway. While I felt the jerking coming from the wheels, I let off the gas pedal and pulled the trailer back onto the highway. My heartbeat slowly settled as I pressed the gas and downshifted to the next gear.

“Yeah, sorry, I sprung it on you. You can’t really respond to a statement like that, I suppose,” Erik finally apologized a minute later with a smirk.

“Shit, take it easy on the jokes,” I growled.

“Found a dealer, and I bought five blue heavens,” he ignored me. “I took those blue sedatives last night. Even though I figured it wouldn’t work, I tried again. Still, the darn things didn’t hurt me.”

He sneered to himself.

“I woke up feeling refreshed and came to work. Ain’t it the way?”

At first, I wanted to believe he was just continuing his weird joke. As I mulled it over, I flipped my high beam down for the oncoming car coming towards us.

What the hell? Knocking yourself off is so stupid.

“Listen, I don’t like the joke.” I replied.

“Who’s joking?” Erik chuckled while keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should see a doc.” I tried to sound casual.

My passenger exhaled.

“Well, don’t worry about it. I know I can’t die from anything like suicide or accidents and such. It’s impossible when death is already pre-ordained. I tried knocking myself off years ago just to prove my memories were wrong. Still, I can’t fool the reaper when he sets the date.”

The awkward silence remained. I mean, it’s hard to tell someone they’re crazy even if you believe it from their statements. Ford must have read my expression.

“Now you know why I don’t talk much,” he said. “No one can understand. They think you’re crazy when you know how you’re going to die. Aren’t you sorry I brought it up?”

Road noise filled the cab as I thought about his statement. It’s damn hard to come up with a response when someone throws that type of curve at you.

“Well — I,” I started.

“Do you believe in a soul?” Erik asked suddenly.

My mouth looked like a gasping fish out of water as I tried to get out a response. My brain locked up with the sudden change in direction.

“Of course,” I finally stated. “Believe in spirits as well.”

“How about reincarnation?” He asked.

“What? You mean like a past life?”

Erik nodded.

“That’s it. Depends upon your religion. Some people call it transmigration, which is really more like the passing of a soul from one body to another. But I’m reincarnated from the womb. I first read about the idea from mangas. But, after a while, I finally figured everything out. The books led me to the truth, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that. My Baptist dad would certainly disagree with you. So, I’ll say I’m skeptical.”

He looked over, as though to find out if I was yanking his chain, then he shook his head.

“Well, you and your dad will get a hell of an argument from me,” he said with a bitter smile. “You see, I have a cursed soul which I know the believers say can’t happen if you believe in the faith. But I’ve damn sure that my soul continues to recycle since I’m the reincarnated soul of Logan Casper.”

Of course, I stopped myself from laughing at the idea and shook my head.

“Never heard of him,” I said with a chuckle.

“Well, I don’t suppose you would. I know the look. Lots of crazy people think they’re the reincarnation of some famous emperor or queen.” The passenger snorted before glancing at the clock again.

“Logan Casper wasn’t much. Just a miner working in the coal mines in West Virgina. Just a regular guy who drank too much and cheated at cards. To be honest, he was a jerk and left his wife and kid for another woman. A mine explosion killed him when he was thirty, and that was nearly thirty years ago.”

Erik didn’t like this Casper fellow. However, he also appeared ready to talk. However, I wasn’t enjoying the conversation.

“Not sure I’m following you. How do you know this guy even existed?”

He answered by giving me a question.

“What’s your earliest memory?”

Now, I had to think about that for a moment.

“Well, I guess when my dad died, I was five,” I replied.

“Sorry to hear that,” he said casually.

Then he continued.

“Logan Casper’s identity came from my earliest nightmare. I could tell you all about Casper, from going up in a shack outside of Welch, West Virginia with seven siblings to working in the coal mines since he was eleven years old. I recall everything, right down to the memories he had on the day he died. You see, Casper survived the blast and crawled around to find a small section of tunnel to hide. But a rockslide pinned him down and cut him off from the other miners. At first, he thought he’d survive. That was until the water started seeping into the tunnel.”

A shiver swept over his body as he seemed to remember something.

“Yeah, Logan lay on the cold stone floor, his leg pinned under a rock. The water kept coming in and he kept praying to God, while knowing he was going to die. See, he also knew something else. He carried the memories of his soul that was once in a French sailor named Henri Léonie.”

The passenger shook his head.

“Strange how life works,” Erik said. “Henri died at thirty. His ship sank off Quiberon Bay. Only three men died that day, and Henri drowned inside a flooded compartment.”

I glanced over, not wanting to believe him. However, his face was colorless as he spoke.

“Like I said, it’s a cursed soul. It will surprise you how many times I’ve tried to kill myself.”

His hushed voice became nearly a whisper.

“I hate the idea of drowning. Unable to breathe and unable to stop the water from entering your lungs. I’ve always feared water, ever since I had that nightmare. So, I won’t go near a lake or river.”

“Yeah! You’re nuts alright. Nobody else is afraid of death,” I stated with a forced grin. “You need to lighten up here.”

My glance over showed me he didn’t hear my comment.

“Listen, I’m not a doc, but it’s obvious you’re acting this way because you keep thinking about it,” I explained. “Any shrink will tell you that.”

But my comment wasn’t fooling Erik Ford a bit.

“Yeah, most people would agree,” he said. “Unlike them, I’ve been to my share of psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists, you name it. I’ve had treatments like hypnosis and electroconvulsive therapy. Hell, I’ve tried them all.”

The man shrugged and leaned back, letting out a deep breath.

“Still, not one of them can rationally explain why I was born with a memory of Logan Casper’s life and the memories of the last day of those lives before him. Each memory shows me exact details about the ultimate day when the person in our cycle will drown. So, I have that to look forward in a couple of hours.”

I stayed silent, wanting to yell at him to be quiet. We were in the middle of the Montana plains during the summer with no one around for miles except for the wind and open range. Still, this guy is yammering about drowning and reincarnation. It was enough to drive his partner nuts. No wonder Smithy wore the headphones and listened to music.

The silence stretched on as both men immersed themselves in their own thoughts. One thinking about his choices while I couldn’t stop wondering if my partner might become violent.

“I told you; you wouldn’t like to talk with me,” Erik suddenly sighed.

“No, it’s interesting,” I lied, while trying to think of some way to change the subject. “We just need to get off this topic. It’s a downer, you know what I mean?”

“Well, in thirty minutes, all bets are off,” he said guardedly as he glanced down at the clock.

I looked at the blue-green numbers, which showed it was almost midnight. The time surprised me. It also angered me, since we missed our last delivery for the day. We were still over a hundred miles out of Scobey. Now we’d have to pick it up on the way back.

“See, that’s why you’re talking stupid,” I finally exploded in frustration. “Just because someone tries to predict the future, if something comes close, you’ll claim they’re accurate. I read about it. It’s called a self-fulfilling prophecy. I swear to God, you’re caught up in this crazy stuff because you’ve been telling yourself this for so long.”

My tone turned sarcastic.

“I’m telling you, it’s a load of crap. So, you’ve had nightmares and you’re afraid of death. Explain who the hell isn’t in the same boat.”

I expected Erik to shut up or lash out. Instead, he turned thoughtful after my rant.

“Hmm, self-fulfilling prophecy, yeah, I remember that. I really considered it for a while. A couple of my head shrinks told me the same thing. But they couldn’t explain why I remember drowning, in a mine, or off the coast of France, or in a ditch outside of a tavern in Manchester. Those are terrible memories, my friend.”

I glared at him, but went silent. We returned to our thoughts. At this point, I was fed up with his lunacy, so my thoughts focused on getting to our hotel. Erik pulled out his cell phone and started typing out a message.

About thirty-five miles down the road, the full moon lifted from behind the mountain range in front of us. It wouldn’t be long before we pulled out of the flatlands. I glanced down at the clock and realized it was now a couple of minutes past midnight.

“Well, it looks like you’re safe,” I told Erik in a snarky tone. “Not a cloud in the sky and no rivers between here and the hotel. Just stay out of the bathtub.”

He glanced over, showing his concern. He didn’t smile at the jest, but his eyes suddenly widened at the sudden boom we heard.

Immediately, the truck jerked, and the backend started pulling hard toward the shoulder. I fought with the steering wheel, trying to keep the vehicle on the road while down shifting. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, I noticed our taillights revealing smoke as tire debris shot out into the darkness.

“We’ve got a blowout!”

While I kept trying to slow the truck, the rear wheels on one side struck a series of heavy potholes, causing the entire vehicle to slide toward the ditch. We could feel the vibration of the rumble strips pushing into the cab. I had no option but to let the truck move over into the emergency lane while attempting to keep the trailer upright. However, luck wasn’t on my side. As soon as the blown-out tires on the passenger side struck the edge of the dirt, the trailer’s back end continued to slide down the embankment next to the road.

Before I knew it, the tilt of the vehicle became too much, and the rig fell over on its side. I remember hanging on to the steering wheel as I watched the world outside the front windshield turn over at a forty-five-degree angle. The truck slid along the top of the ditch on the passenger side of the truck, then violently plowed down into the bottom. We were still cruising at a fast clip when we overturned, so the bumpy glide through the long grass in the roadside ditch seemed to last forever.

When the rig finally came to a stop, I was choking from the dust that filled the cab. I hung in my seat above Ford, who I couldn’t see for several minutes while the air cleared. Then, I heard his coughing and saw him lying on the broken door window.

“Are you alright?” I asked, while trying to unhook my seatbelt.

“Still alive,” he coughed out.

While I struggled to remove myself from the driver’s seat, I heard him groan. I stopped and looked down. The dashboard lights showed me his legs, pinned under his seat at an odd angle. Then I realized he didn’t have on his seatbelt during the accident.

“Christ, where are you hurt?” My hand automatically went to the ignition switch and shut off the diesel engine, which was still running.

“I think the door caved in — my leg’s busted,” he groaned out.

After unstrapping myself, I carefully lowered my legs down, landing next to Erik.

“Hold on a sec.”

I pulled out a flashlight from the console and turned it on. Ford’s pale face had a few scratches from the broken glass. However, the seat and the door crushed his right leg. I tried lifting the seat to release his leg, but the passenger seat remained fixed to the floorboard. The only thing I accomplished was causing Erik more pain from his movement.

As I thought about the situation, he looked up at me.

“I told you. It’s my birthday.” He dropped his head back on the mixture of glass and grass covering the ground.

“Oh, shut it,” I growled. “We had tires go flat. That’s not a curse. Nothing more to it.”