Bad Memories - Beginning
Another Twisted Short Tale - Chapter 1
A new twisted short story for my Morbid Ink Project (my paid subscribers get the first look at all my stories). The final chapter will publish a day or two later. The tale will also be available for subscribers to Medium in the near future.
“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.”
