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Nov 26, 2009, 8:21am

Less Than Gods RPG :: Role Play :: Midwest :: The Ride

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Topic: The Ride (Read 20 times)

Colt Walker
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The Ride
« Thread Started on Oct 31, 2009, 12:04pm »

These things happen. It's really the odds of probability. If someone rent enough cars in the course of one's career they'll eventually get one that get's past the quality control people. It was my rotten luck that I just far enough outside Montgomery, Alabama and it was late enough at night that walking back to get another rental car was a wasted effort. It was just me, my pistol, and a guitar case I had with me on the open road hitching a ride to the nearest town, phone, or what have you. I didn't care where it was, I just had to get to Nashville, Tennessee to get to my car so I could get home.

I don't know how long I was out on the road thumbing it, and getting nowhere, but finally a car stopped for me. I saw the symbol on the trunk and I recognized it as a Cadillac, an old one to. Hell if I had my say on it I'd say it was an antique Cadillac. Well, it wasn't like any psycho was going to take me by surprise, and I always had this weak spot for old cars, "I'm on my way to Nashville, would you like a ride, son?" the driver asked.

This was a fortuitous change of events on my part; it would have seemed a little too much so if I didn't have this weak spot for old cars, so I crawl in. The car started to move, and the driver turned on the radio. Something made my ears twitch about it. I had driven through this part of the world on my way down here and of the stations I found I didn't hear a thing that was the solid gold country music I was hearing now. Not a single one of the songs played was younger than 1953.

I watched the stranger fish a cigarette out of his pocket, and when he asked me for a light I could notice that in his voice he was half drunk. For most this would be the sign to get out and walk. I figured, what the Hell? Worst that'll happen is that I'll die. That's goanna happen sooner or later, might as well enjoy the ride. So I hand him my Zippo and he lights up, this is where I noticed other things about him.

His skin was as pale as a sheet of printing paper, and his eyes were hollow and sunken in, like he was the walking dead I'm sent to remove from this planet, and there was the way he was dressed. The suit he wore was an anachronism, outdated by well over fifty years and his face had a familiar look to it, though to be honest I never seen it at profile before, but something about it seemed familiar. I knew this ride had taken a turn for the strange.

He handed me my Zippo and he had taken notice of the guitar case I had with me. "I take it you're a singer."

"At times." I replied.

"Have you paid your dues, working clubs and such?" he asked

"I'm working on it." I said

"Can you bend then guitar strings?"

"Yes, sir, that I can do."

"Boy, can you make folks feel what you feel inside?" Before I could give him a reply he said. "Cause if you're big-star bound; let me warn you it's a long, hard ride."

"Yes, sir" said I, "Yes sir it sure is."

We drove for several hours, my suspicions were confirmed when the AM station he was on never faded in the whole distance from Mobile, Alabama to Nashville, Tennessee. The stranger was dead silent for the rest of the trip till we were just shy of Nashville it was then the car came to a screeching halt. The stranger took a deep breath and sighed before he said, "This is where you get off son, I'm heading back to Alabam."

I stepped out of that antique Cadillac and touching the brim of my hat I said "Mister, you have my appreciation for the ride."

The car door slammed shut on its own and the window rolled down likewise without the electronic hum of a motor, "There's no need to call me mister, mister," he turned to face me and it was then I saw who had driven me to my destination. "The whole world called me Hank."

I never got to reply. The wheels squealed to life and the car turned around in a cloud of noxious smoke as it crossed the lanes and roared off back to Alabama I could only watch as it left in the southerly direction.

"Well I'll be damned," I said as I realized who I just rode with; "I will be damned."

Goodnight and joy be with you,

The Kansas City Ice Machine

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Realize this, if you think the needs of the many outweigh the heeds of the few. One of these days you, my friend, will be one of the few.

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