By Dwayne Phillips
Short Story 2008-48, 29 November 2008
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"I wanted to believe him, so I did," said Andrew recounting the prior evening.
"The guy looked trustworthy, he looked like what he said he was," he added.
"But," interrupted the State Trooper, "did you think that he might steal your car?"
"No, not at all," replied Andrew. "Maybe I was being stupid. I'll admit that. But really, what's wrong with the world these days?"
The Trooper sat calmly behind his small, gray, metal desk and listened to Andrew's story.
The night before, Andrew was driving down a two-lane state highway after work. It was a typical evening after a typical day. Andrew rounded a long bend in the road and saw a man standing next to a new red pickup truck with its tail lights flashing. Andrew instinctively slowed his car. His slowing continued until he came to a slow roll next to the man and his truck.
Andrew pressed the button to this left to lower the passenger side window next to the man. The closeness and lowered window allowed Andrew to see the man clearly. Middle-aged, wearing slacks and a short sleeve shirt, the man looked like a business man or a white-collar worker.
"He's just like me," thought Andrew. "We are dressed the same and driving similar model year vehicles. The only difference is that he is having mechanical trouble and I am not."
"Thanks for stopping sir," said the man.
"Sure," replied Andrew. "You having trouble?"
"I guess so. I'm not sure what the problem is. This truck is only six months old. Shouldn't be in a fix like this. I just don't know what is wrong."
"Well, I'm not a mechanic, but there is a repair shop a couple miles up the road. I can give you a lift if you like. The mechanic lives next door to his shop, so he'll probably be there. You interested?" asked Andrew.
The man next to the truck looked at his watch, looked up and down the dark road, and answered, "Yes, I'm interested. You sure you can do this for me?"
"Yeah, sure. Hop in," answered Andrew.
The man opened the passenger door, started to step into Andrew's car, but stopped. "Oh, wait a minute," he said. "I have to bring one thing with me."
The man turned to his pickup truck, opened its door, and reached into it to retrieve something. Andrew glanced in his rear view mirror to ensure that he wasn't blocking anyone. He then moved his eyes to the road in front of him to see that traffic was safe in that direction as well. He then turned to watch the man enter his car. A handgun was now in Andrew's face.
"Slip out on your side of the car, now, fast," was all Andrew heard.
Andrew complied quietly. His heart was racing as he exited and stood still in the road next to his car. The door of the pickup truck slammed. Andrew looked up to see a person now behind the wheel of the truck. The man who had put a gun in Andrew's face was now sitting behind the wheel of Andrew's car.
The two vehicles sped away. Andrew stood in the dark road. He was alone in the dark and quiet; he was shaking, and he couldn't stop the shakes. He stood there for what seemed like was an hour, but was only a few minutes.
Headlights appeared in the distance and grew closer. Andrew waved his arms while still standing in the center of the road. "Hey, stop!" shouted Andrew. It didn't occur to him that the approaching driver couldn't hear him. He shouted longer and louder. It also didn't occur to him that he was standing in the middle of the road in the dark with a car speeding towards him.
"I guess I assumed that the driver would see me, and trust me enough to stop and help," he told the Trooper.
Andrew was correct about trust this time. The car slowed and stopped next to Andrew. It was a small, old, beaten Toyota that was once white but was now various shades of gray and red primer. A man with a faded John Deere cap covering knotted hair rolled down the window of the car. He hadn't shaved in a week, and his breath smelled like he hadn't brushed his teeth in a month.
"Got some trouble here?" asked the disheveled man in the fast-rusting car.
Andrew paused. Would he fall for an ill-meaning stranger twice in one night? The man who stole his car at gun point looked good but acted bad. Would this man who appeared the opposite act the opposite? Andrew stopped thinking. Instead, he spoke, "Yes. I've just been robbed. I stopped to help someone and he stole my car. He pointed a gun at me and made me get out. I had to get out or he would shoot me or something. I didn't know what else to do. I was shaking I was so mad and so scared and felt so foolish."
Andrew had not noticed that he was speaking so fast that it sounded like babbling to the gruff man in the old car.
"Mister, just get in. My cousin's a State Trooper. I'll take you to him."
Andrew complied. He walked around to the passenger side of the Toyota and tried to open the door. The door handle came off in his hand. Andrew stood dumbfounded on the side of the road with a rusted door handle in his hand. He stared at it until the car door opened and hit him hard in the knee.
"Sorry bub. I gotta fix that door someday. Here, give me the handle so I can tape it back on tomorrow."
Andrew stepped into the old car and sat on half a dozen empty beer cans. He tried to brush them out from under himself onto the floor of the car. Several attempts later, he had succeeded and then noticed that they were careening down the road. The driver was swerving the steering wheel back and forth. Sometimes the car responded as desired, sometimes not. Andrew's hands started shaking again.
Half an hour later, the car pulled into a State Trooper station. Andrew stepped from the car, but the driver did not. "My cousin Larry is inside," said the driver. "I'll just go on now. It won't do for me to hang around and have another Trooper see me with all this beer in the car. See you."
With that, the old Toyota screeched backwards, stopped with a skid on loose gravel, and screeched out into the dark of the highway.
"And so," said Andrew to the Trooper behind the desk, "here I am."
"Okay," replied the Trooper. "I wrote what I heard from you. I want you to take a few minutes and read this carefully. If you agree to it, sign here at the bottom of the last page."
The Trooper slid the papers across the desk to Andrew. Andrew read the papers slowly, nodding yes along the way, and signed his name in the proper place.
"You know," started Andrew. "I thought I could trust people. I don't know about that from here on out. I don't think I will be stopping on the side of the road when I see someone who looks like they are in trouble. No, not me. Let someone else be the sucker."
"Well," answered the Trooper, "The second guy you met last night did okay, didn't he?"
"Yes, I guess so. If I had to pick the trustworthy person from appearances, I wouldn't have picked him. He didn't look too good, but I didn't have much of a choice standing out there shaking in the dark. It was a good thing your cousin came along."
"Mister," said the Trooper, "I have ten cousins, but they all live three states away. I don't know what that man in the old car was thinking, but he wasn't being straight with you."
"What?" asked Andrew in astonishment. "How could that be? You mean he lied to me? You mean I shouldn't have trusted him either?"
"I don't know sir. I do know that he picked you up in the dark and brought you here. That must count for something, don't you think? I know your car was stolen, but you have insurance and it will be replaced. You could have stood out there in the dark all night until someone ran over you, right?"
“I guess so,” answered Andrew. “But still. I want to trust people, but I don’t know anymore. Look what people will do to you.”
The Trooper shook his head and sighed.
“I suggest you continue to trust people. You’ll sleep better at night. Just take a little more care and maybe carry a cell phone and offer to call for a Trooper the next time you find someone broken down on the side of the road at night.”
Go to
Dwayne's Home Page
Email me at
d.phillips@computer.org