Drivin' His Life Away
Fiction: Adam is wandering the rain-soaked city in a daze after being fired when he steps onto a city bus and, as he plots to get his job, and his life back, he realizes he's on the ride of his life.
This short story was written for the Soaring Twenties Social Club (STSC) Symposium. The STSC is a small, exclusive online speakeasy where a dauntless band of raconteurs, writers, artists, philosophers, flaneurs, musicians, idlers, and bohemians share ideas and companionship. Occasionally, STSC members create something around a set theme. This time the theme was “buses.” If you are a writer, I encourage you to consider joining us, I’ve included details at the bottom of this post. Lastly, you can find all my past symposium pieces by clicking here.
Ron whistled as he drove the empty city bus through the rain-soaked metropolis. Strangely, he saw only one passenger on tonight's pick up manifesto, but he didn’t know exactly where his lost passenger roamed.
That’s OK. Ron thought, the missing passengers usually find their way to me…in the end.
He sighed and looked at his watch. How tired he was of driving this motor coach, night after night, for what seemed, to him, to have been an eternity!
Eyes on the road Ron.
Outside, the rain began pouring harder. He reached down - his face illuminated by the eerie orange glow of the dashboard, making him momentarily look like some other-worldly dangerous apparition - and clicked the windshield wipers to the highest setting.
God, I want a cigarette.
But The Boss had strangely decided, after what seemed like millenia in business, that he wanted to run a clean, healthy operation. He never used to care, but lately, He had explained to Ron that he wanted to improve the business’ reputation with the customers. Dirty buses and cigarette smoke tended to lower customer satisfaction ratings. “Big H” as Ron liked to call The Boss had heard rumors that, unlike his brothers’ businesses, people were often terrified to take his buses. So, for now, no smoking.
Across the street, Ron spotted a stray dog, fur wet and matted, wandering aimlessly down the sidewalk hoping to find food or shelter.
Poor thing. I’m glad my little BeeBee is in here with me, safe and dry.
He reached over and gave little BeeBee’s head a loving pat.
BeeBee raised his little black head and licked Ron’s finger.
Adam shuffled along the dark, dirty city sidewalk in the pouring rain, dejected, and disgusted with civilization. As he walked, his eyes tracked the countless wads of discarded chewing gum stuck to the concrete which he avoided as best he could in the dark. People who spit their gum on the sidewalk should be summarily executed in Adam’s opinion. Styrofoam and paper cups rattled along in the wet breeze like tumbleweeds across the desert in an old western. Ahead, on the right, a homeless man sat on the sidewalk wrapped in dingy, threadbare clothes, back against the wall, his hair and beard wild, long and un-brushed.
How long until I join him? Adam wondered.
As he passed, the man held out his hand. He didn’t expend the effort to ask for money. He didn’t make eye contact with Adam. He simply held out his hand. It would be easy to keep walking. But for some reason, Adam stopped and reached for his wallet.
As he pulled it out of his back pocket, one of his cards fell out. It read, “Adam J. Nash, Vice president of Asset Management.” The homeless man’s eyes flicked toward the card, briefly.
“Forget about it.” Adam said, holding out a bill to the vagrant, “I’m not that person anymore. Here’s my last ten dollars.”
“God bless you.” The dirty man mumbled. As the bearded drifter reached up with his left hand to take the bill, his right hand clasped Adam's arm and he looked at Adam intensely. The man’s pure black eyes felt deep, hopeless and soulless, and some tingly electric charge passed between them.
“Let me go!” Adam demanded.
Black eyes bore into Adam’s soul.
“Are you sure?” A deep grating voice asked.
“Yes, let go you freak!”
“As you wish,” the ominous man said, and then fell back against the wall, pocketing the money.
What the hell was that?
Adam shook it off, grunted, and kept walking. He shuffled along for some indeterminate amount of time, in a daze, replaying the day’s events in his mind. His day had started like every Monday - alarm at 5:30am, a workout, shower, breakfast on the run and a mad dash to be in his office at Innovative Wealth Management by 7:30am. Adam liked to be seen at his desk, working, when his boss arrived around 8:00 am. The day had progressed normally until he received a summons from his boss, Jim, to meet him in the conference room at about 4:00 pm.
“Adam, I’m not going to sugar coat things. We’ve decided to shut down your department and go a different direction. I’m sorry.”
Jim hadn’t looked sorry. In fact Jim - Mr. James Malcom Jr., son of the founder, James Malcom Sr., had looked downright pleased with himself. Prick.
Adam had mumbled something about understanding and had then, in a daze, been escorted back to his desk to take his personal belongings. Assholes. After more than a decade helping Jim’s father build Innovative Wealth, the sniveling little prick had summarily dismissed him.
Adam turned and punched the brick wall next to him, not noticing the people around him raising their eyebrows. Fuck that hurt! His soul felt a little better having released the anger, but now his knuckles bled and were starting to throb.
Security had escorted Adam to the front door of the building and, after saying goodbye to Paul, the doorman, and one of the few people in that building who had treated him like a human being, he had started walking. He had pocketed a few of the personal items and tossed the box into a dumpster. He’d probably regret that, but none of it was important and he wanted to make a clean break.
So, now, Adam shuffled along, after dark, his hair sticking up, knuckles bleeding, with strangers backing away from him as he walked by as if he was the homeless one.
Ron, steering the large bus with his right hand, reached down with his left and petted his tiny black Affenpinscher snuggled up in his bed. The little “monkey terrier” raised his head and gave Ron’s hand a small lick before turning around in his bed and curling up facing the other direction. BeeBee sighed and then closed his eyes. Ron chuckled, glad the boss allowed him to bring his little companion on these runs. He had said that allowing pets made the operation feel more human. “Happy employees make for happy customers! Gotta raise our NPS score!” He had said.
Suddenly, Ron’s hair stood on end and his senses prickled. Must be time for our pickup.
Up ahead on the right, a man, hair disheveled, his right hand bleeding, shuffled along like a lost homeless person. Strangely, despite his appearance, he wore a bespoke, dark blue, three piece suit with a red silk tie (which had been loosened in the manner of businessmen who work too hard and too late). The man had been marked. He was the passenger.
Here we go.
Ron pushed a hand through his short red hair, attempting to look professional. Then he pulled the metal beast over to the curb, engaged the raucous air brakes and the vehicle slid to a clumsy halt. He pulled the lever that opened the doors, put on a grin and called out, “I’m goin’ your way, mister. Need a ride?”
A hissing sound to Adam’s left jolted him out of his dark reverie, and he looked to see doors of a city bus open.
A friendly red-haired driver leaned over and grinned saying, “I’m goin’ your way, mister. Need a ride?
Confused, Adam looked left and right and then peered into the bus, shrugged, and replied, “Um, yeah I think so.”
“Well, mister, don’t just stand out in the rain getting soaked, come on in! I’ve got a thermos full of hot coffee, help yourself. The cups and the thermos are on the first seat behind me. Come in and warm up!” Ron smiled again.
“Um, where is everybody?” the man asked, noticing the bus was empty.
“Yeah, you’re right, it’s just me and BeeBee here,” Ron patted BeeBee who looked up and yapped, “It’s been a slow night. I guess because it’s late and, of course, all the rain. You’re our first customer, actually! Come in and sit down and BeeBee and I will take you where you need to be.”
“I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be anymore,” The man replied.
“Oh! Don’t you worry about that!” Ron grinned, “BeeBee and I hear that all the time. We’ll help ya figure out where ya need to go. That’s our specialty! Now come on! Let’s get movin’.”
The exhausted man sighed. “OK, thanks.”
“Now you’re talkin’,” Ron said excitedly while the man stepped aboard, poured himself a cup of coffee, and settled into a seat a couple of rows back.
Ron shut the doors and put the bus in gear.
“Now just sit back, mister. Ol’ BeeBee and I will take good care of ya. Ya look tired, why don’tcha just rest for a bit and then we’ll figure out where ya need ta go.”
“OK” said the passenger, “thanks for the coffee.” He took a long sip. “Wow, this is great. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it!” Ron replied, “The Boss likes for our customers to be comfortable on their journey!”
The passenger sat back, and closed his eyes.
Ron reached up and flicked on the radio and over the speakers came Drivin’ My Life Away by Eddie Rabbit. He chuckled at the song, how ironic...and appropriate. But Ron loved Eddie Rabbit, so he leaned back, focused on the road and listened to the music.
Those windshield wipers slappin' out a tempo
Keepin' perfect rhythm with the song on the radio-oo-oo-o
But I gotta keep rooooooo-llin'.....
“Hey mister?” Ron called out looking back at the man.
“Yeah?” The passenger replied softly.
“What’s your name?”
“Adam”
“Niceta meetcha Adam! I’m Ron. I’ll let you rest a bit now.”
“Thanks, Ron” Adam put his head back and closed his eyes.
Ron reached down and grabbed his clipboard and glanced at the evening’s priorities. Yep, only one customer tonight: Adam J. Nash. He put the clipboard back in its place, leaned back and smiled. He loved evenings when the work was easy.
Ooooooooh, I'm drivin' my life away
Lookin' for a better waaaay
for me
Ooooooooh, I'm drivin' my life away….
What am I going to do? Adam thought.
He was sooooo tired. He had hardly been able to think since the homeless man had grabbed him. Plus, he had been walking the streets in the rain for hours. I’ll just rest for a few minutes and then I’ll figure it out.
Adam closed his eyes.
His right hand throbbed, and his headache intensified; but he started to find some clarity in the pain. The pain seemed to fuel his anger and his anger seemed to fuel his pain in a virtuous or villainous - he wasn’t sure which - cycle of energy that crystallized his thinking. And, slowly, but steadily a plan began to arise from within that anger. A plan to get back everything he had lost, and more.
As he thought, Adam’s plan crystallized out of the disconnected pieces in the dust of his mind and presented itself to him in detailed clarity. He nodded and an evil manic grin appeared on his face and he drifted off to sleep.
Adam’s awareness returned to his hearing first. He heard the sound of water. Not the rain, but of….current? Like a flowing river?
He felt a slight up and down movement. Was he on a boat?
No, he remembered. He had gotten on a bus. He had made plans to get his job back and get revenge on that prick, Jim.
But he was so tired.
He opened his eyes just a crack and for, just a moment, what he saw terrified him.
He was on a boat! Ron, the red-headed bus driver was gone and in his place was a tall dark figure draped in a tattered, black hooded cloak. He was pushing the boat through the black water with a tall stick which had a lantern hanging off the top. BeeBee, transfigured into a huge black hound with glowing eyes, looked at him and growled.
Adam jumped up! I’ve got to get out of here!
“Is something wrong, mister?” Ron asked, looking at Adam in the rear view mirror.
“Um” Adam shook his head, confused, and replied, “I’m not sure. I guess not. I thought I saw……oh never mind.”
Ron chuckled. They’re always so confused.
“Well, let’s figure out where we need to take ya. What’s your full name?”
“Why do you need my name?”
“I just do, Adam, that’s how it works.”
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. I want you to drop me off downtown. My office building is on Wall Street.” Adam walked up the aisle and stood behind Ron, holding the vertical pole behind the driver’s seat. “Here, take my card, it has my name and the address.”
Ron took the card, and read it.
“Mister Adam J. Nash” Ron read, “Welcome aboard, Mr. Nash. Just take your seat, and we’ll get ya to your destination.”
“Thank you.” Adam replied. He walked back to his seat in the third row and sat down and closed his eyes again.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and he didn’t recognize where they were.
“Hey Ron?” Adam called.
“Yeah?”
“You’re going the wrong way, we need to go downtown.”
“Oh no sir, Mr. Nash, we’re definitely going the right way! Ya see, we’re not in the business of taking ya where you want to go. Like I said when ya boarded, we take you where ya need ta go.”
BeeBee yapped in agreement.
“Now look here, Ron. You’re a nice enough fellow. But I need to get back to my office. I have plans to get my life back on track!”
“I’m sorry about that sir, but I can’t do that. It’s too late for that ‘back on track’ idea, actually.”
“What do you mean it’s too late? Let me out here, I’ll take a cab!”
“No sir. I can’t do that, Mr. Nash, The Boss would have my hide!”
Adam pulled out his iPhone. “We’ll see about that. What is your full name, Ron? If you don’t stop, I’m going to call your boss and report you.”
“Oh sure thing, Mr. Nash” Ron replied, "my full name….you see is….Charon.”
Adam shivered, and he swore that Ron’s eyes flashed red for a moment.
“And BeeBee here,” Ron continued, “his full name is Cerberus.”
BeeBee stood up, but he was no longer the cute little monkey terrier, he was the hellhound that Adam had dreamed about. Six eyes on three heads glowed red and all three mouths pulled back in a snarl, spittle dripping from each one. Cerberus’ hellish eyes glared at Adam, and he growled.
Suddenly, the whole scene changed again and Adam was back in the terrifying ferry, Charon’s soulless eyes bored into him as he moved the ferry along the inky river and Cerberus, now towering over Adam, growled and took a step toward him. Adam fell back and cowered in terror.
“See?” Ron said as the scene changed back into the “friendly” Bus of the Lost, “isn’t this better? Like I said, The Boss, Mr. H himself, prefers our customers to be happy and comfortable these days. We don’t like to scare our customers anymore, do we BeeBee? Don’t ya worry! It’s much more pleasant down there than the old days!”
BeeBee yapped in agreement and wagged his tail.
“So why don’t ya get yourself another nice warm cup of coffee, Mr. Nash? It’s a fine Colombian blend ya know? Only the best, the boss, Big H, insists. None of that cheap stuff for our crew. Get yourself a cuppa joe and sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
Ron turned around and grinned, “Like told ya, Mr. Nash, we’ll get ya where you need to go. Yes sir, we will.”
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