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Order this writing in the collection book Unlocking the Mysteries available for only $1795 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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A prediction from the man in black
Benjamin Green
Slits of light cut into the darkness.
The Plymouth moved forward, because the driver was having trouble seeing the road.
It would have been easier if he had full use of his headlights, but wartime restrictions mandated blackout curtains.
Marylin Maso put a hand on her husband’s arm, and said, “It’s nice of you to agree to stay with my aunt.
She’s been a nervous wreck since the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor.”
Stanley scowled.
“Maybe, but it is going to cost us the rest of our weekly fuel ration.”
On the seat between them was a copy of the Chicago Tribune.
The banner headline announced the Allied landings at Benghazi.
“It’s not like we’re really going to need the car.
After all, Gary isn’t a big town.”
“Yeah, a wide spot in the road.”
“We all need to do our part for the war effort.”
Stanley placed his right hand over his heart.
“Praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition.”
Marylin put her right hand over her mouth, and giggled.
Then she pointed, and said, “Look!
There’s a man by the side of the road!”
Stanley squinted, and saw a vague movement.
As he drew closer, he could discern a silhouette against the dark.
He pulled over to the side of the road, and unrolled his window.
The stranger crossed the street, toward their car.
He wore a dark grey trenchcoat over a black suit.
His fedora was pulled down low over his eyes, hiding his face in the shadows.
Stanly briefly wondered what he’d gotten himself into.
Then he said, “Evening, sir.
You look lost.”
“Nope.
I just need a ride.”
“We’re only going as far as Gary.”
The stranger touched his hat.
He had large, gnarled hands.
“Thank you.
I’ll get out at Hammond.”
He opened the rear door, and got in.
He sank into the rear seat, and seemed to wrap the shadows around him.
Marylin tried engaging the stranger in conversation, but he only answered in monosyllables.
After a fruitless half hour, she gave up.
She leaned over, and whispered to her husband, “Do you have any idea who he is?”
He shrugged.
He didn’t know, and he would be glad when the stranger was on his way.
However, he wasn’t going to say anything with the man in the car.
At last, he said, “Here is fine.”
Stanly pulled over to the side of the road.
The stranger got out, and touched his fedora again.
“Thank you for the ride.
I’m afraid I don’t have any money to offer you, but I can answer one question or you.”
Stanley considered that a minute.
“One question, huh?”
After another moment of thought, he asked, “When will the war end?”
The stranger didn’t miss a beat.
“In Europe, or the Pacific?”
After a pause, Stanley said, “In Europe.”
“It will be July seventh of forty-five, as sure as you will have a dead man in the car before you arrive.”
A sneer caused Stanley’s lip to curl.
“Yeah, whatever buddy!”
He took off so fast that he didn’t have time to see the wry smile on the stranger’s face.
His wife asked, “What did he say?”
“He said the war would end a couple of years from now in July, as surely as we’ll have a dead man in the car before we arrive.”
“I wonder what he meant by that.”
“Oh, don’t worry your pretty head about it.
That guy was probably just some nutcase.”
Behind them, they saw a set of red and white flashing lights pull onto the road.
A siren’s howl split the night.
He moved to the right, to allow the ambulance to pass him.
It moved right with them.
“Look out!
He’s coming right at us!”
“I’m trying to get out of his way!
That damn fool-”
As they watched, the ambulance slewed back and forth.
He stamped on the brake, and pulled to the side of the road.
The other vehicle came within inches of sideswiping him, and lurched to the left.
About ten yards ahead, the right wheel went into a ditch.
Then it flipped over three times, before coming to a stop, right side up.
“That ambulance flipped over!”
Stanley considered for a moment complimenting his wife on her keen grasp of the obvious.
Then he discarded it.
Instead, he said, “Wait here!”
Then he got out, and ran toward the ambulance.
He was met by a frowning man in a white uniform.
“You must help me.
My patient is in critical condition.”
“What happened?”
The doctor shrugged.
“The driver started shouting that the steering gear had gone out.
Then the ambulance started swerving all over the road.”
“What about the driver?”
The doctor waved his hand in the air.
“He’ll live but my patient might not, unless he gets to a hospital immediately!”
He took one of the man’s arms, and Stanley took the other.
Together, they hoisted the patient up, and toward his waiting Plymouth.
The doctor shoved him in the back seat, and climbed in after him.
“Stanley!
What’s going on?”
“Not now, dear.
I’ll tell you when we get to the hospital.”
He stomped on the accelerator, and hurried from First, through Neutral, into Second gear.
The engine protested the unfamiliar treatment.
He offered up a silent prayer, and stepped harder on the accelerator.
The doctor asked, “Can’t you go any faster?
My patient needs immediate medical attention!”
“I’m going as fast as I dare as it is.
It’s hard to see the road in these blackout conditions.
If I go much faster, I risk smashing up the car.”
However, Stanley stabbed it into Third, and stomped harder on the accelerator.
The doctor grimaced, but said nothing.
When they entered the town’s outskirts, the doctor began issuing directions.
Marylin told him to turn left of right.
He took turns without slowing down, taking several on two wheels.
At last, they arrived at the hospital.
Stanley mashed his foot down on the brake, and the Plymouth left a ten foot skid mark behind it.
Two interns ran out, and grabbed the patient.
The doctor hurried after them.
Stanley opened the door for his wife, and told her what happened as they headed for the waiting room.
Marylin said, “I don’t think you should have left the poor driver there.
He might be badly hurt.”
Stanley had no answer for her.
The doctor met them in the lobby.
He looked grim.
“Thank you for stopping.
Unfortunately, the patient died on the way in.”
Marylin’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hands.
“Just like the stranger had predicted!”
Stanley grabbed her by the upper arms.
“So the war will end in July!
But what year?
Do you remember what year?”
