Drive

This is a short story I wrote about self-reflection. As a WARNING, it does make brief references to childhood trauma but it doesn't go into detail about what that trauma is.

Twin daggers pierce the darkness, a low roar rumbles over shifting desert sands. In sixth gear on the desolate highway, the Dodge Challenger is so predictable it practically drives itself. 

“That’s it, Sammi,” I gently pat the dashboard. “I can always count on you to keep us moving forward.”

For half a second, Sammi changes the pitch of her supercharger in response to my praise. At 100 mph she’s cruising easily. She knows this is only about half of what she’s got. She wants me to push her harder. She’s a thoroughbred. She was born to run.

“Easy girl. Tonight’s not the night for that. It’s moonless. I can’t see beyond your high beams. Let’s play it safe, okay?”

She whines again before settling down and pushing deeper into the night. My mind is wandering, overthinking, and playing out every possible outcome from every failed relationship I’ve had over the last 20 years. The very first one is interesting. That version of me married his college sweetheart, divorced his college sweetheart, and has joint custody of their 17-year-old daughter. She’s a brilliant young woman preparing to go to Columbia University in the fall. Notably, he’s not worried about how he’s going to pay for the Ivy League education. Between working for one of the top ad agencies in the country and his ex’s career as a doctor with the CDC, they’ve got Katrina’s college expenses covered. “Katrina? Where’d that name come from?” I wonder aloud. “Weird.” That was one of the happier thoughts. 

Scenario fourteen sprang from a girlfriend two relationships later. In my version of the world I knew Diane was bad news from the start, but being a depressed, lonely loser I was just happy someone was paying attention to me. Even if it was negative and horrible. In this particularly disturbing scenario, I’d actually married her. It didn’t go well. Overwhelmed by depression and anxiety, that version of me found relief by jumping off a bridge less than two years later. It’s a slight comfort knowing the timeline I’m currently living in isn’t the worst possible version of my life. 

I exhale sharply. My mind is outpacing the Challenger. Four-hundred different scenarios bombard my brain in rapid-fire fashion. Some good, some bad, most just different. I am lucky to be in the timeline that has me behind the wheel of 4200-lbs of pure American muscle. 

Redlight. On an empty road in the middle of the desert? Do I blow through it? No. We don’t do that here. Sammi and I don’t do that. We’re neutral good! Downshift and brake. Her shifter is heavy. She hates slowing down but I, along with oversized Brembo brakes, coax her to stop. 

“Haha,” I chuckle. “Looks like we’re at a crossroads.” A survey of the land reveals there’s a decision to be made. With where my mind has been drifting, I’ve no doubt this choice will lead to even more variations of the timeline for a future version of myself to worry about. “Go straight and we keep going into this desert. Sure it seems to go on forever but we’re comfortable with the road surface and the terrain. There’s probably a gas station or a nice little town every hundred miles or so. It’s what we know. It's safe and predictable. Or we could turn left. The sign says it’s 154 miles to Las Vegas. Booze, blackjack, and women for me. Smooth, wide boulevards for you, Sammi. It could be fun. Plus they’ve got car washes. And the nicest people I’ve ever met were at a Vegas gas station.”

Sammi revs her engine at the mention of the car wash. We’ve been driving for days. Even though I clean the dirt and dust from her windows every time we stop for gas, I know she would appreciate a thorough cleaning to get all of the bugs out of her grille. 

“I know, girl. But there’s another choice. If we go right we head into the mountains. With their twists and turns, those roads are less forgiving and the upkeep on those surfaces is practically non-existent. The roads are rough and filled with bumps. If something does go wrong there isn’t always cell service so we might end up stranded and alone. Scarier still is that the road winds along steep cliffs. An ill-timed sneeze or tire blowout has the potential to lead to crashing and burning. Making it through those challenges, on a night like this, would prove just how skilled we both are.”

Sammi’s engine purrs a low-rumble. She is sensitive about people talking about her handling. For a heavy, rear-wheel drive, muscle car she thinks she handles pretty damn good. She’s eager for the chance to prove just how well she could take on a mountain road. 

Suddenly, the car falls silent. The headlights go out. The last thing the light touches is a dust-devil kicking up in the middle of the crossroads. 

The passenger door opens. “Going my way?” A stunning, tall, brunette effortlessly slides into the seat without waiting for a response. A black Versace dress tightly hugs the curves of her body. She smells of honey and milk, with just a hint of sulfur. The smirk on her face is wicked.

“Wh-what?” The appearance of the beautiful stranger combined with Sammi going dark throws me off-kilter. “Where did you come from?”

“Some place very, very hot!” the brunette bites her lip playfully as she speaks the words slowly. 

“No s**t! We’re in the middle of the desert. Even after sunset it’s got to be 85, 90 degrees out there,” I snark back.

Her eyes have a slightly golden luminosity about them. Even in near-total darkness I can see them sizing me up. Though whether that is as a meal or a mate, I can not tell. 

“What is it that you desire most in this world?” she asks. “The one thing you wish you could have.”

“Right now I want to find out why Samantha here just up and quit on me,” I reply while trying to open the door. It won’t budge. 

“Your vehicle is fine. I silenced her so we could talk in peace.”

“Uh-huh,” I try the door again. Nothing.

“Let there be light!” The stranger reaches above my head and taps the dome light with her finger, bathing us in a soft white glow. “Normally, I don’t go in for those kinds of theatrics but I am here to help you,” her smile has an odd quality about it.

I turn from the stubborn door and look into those glowing, golden eyes. “You want to help me? Lady, you’re the one stuck in the desert. Don’t you need me to help you? Isn’t that why you climbed into my car?”

She laughs, “Oh, Jackson, you silly, arrogant, little man. No, I’m here to give you anything you want. Anything you can think of. All I ask for is a small donation in exchange.”

“There it is. I knew it. You’re a freaking prostitute! Well, I’ve never paid for sex before and I’m not planning on starting now. I’ll take you to the next town like a Good Samaritan but then you’re out.”

“What? You fool! I am no prostitute!” 

“Then what are you? And how did you know my name?” I can be slow sometimes.

“Think of me as a concierge who can get you anything your heart desires.”

“So... you’re a crossroads demon trying to get my immortal soul in exchange for some cheap trinket?” And sometimes I can be incredibly perceptive.

“No, no. It doesn’t have to be a cheap trinket,” her golden eyes do not blink so much as they flicker, like a flame in the wind. 

I roll my eyes. “You know the lore says you guys are like the used car sales jerks of the supernatural world.”

“Do I look like I sell used cars? No. Think of me more as a high-end broker. You tell me what you want. I get it for you. In ten years or so, I collect that dusty old soul that you’re barely using anyway. It’s a simple transaction that leaves everyone happy.”

“Well when you put it like that, get the hell out of my car!” I raise my voice louder than intended. The demon does not flinch.

“Oh, Jackson. There is no need to be like that. We’re just talking. Where’s the harm in a little conversation? From what I can see, you could use someone to talk to. I mean you’re talking to your car and pretending that engine noises are the silly thing responding to you. It’s sad, really,” she shakes her head slowly without taking her eyes off of me. The disappointment she exudes cuts to my core. I have never done well with disappointing others. “Look, I don’t even have any contracts on me.” She holds her hands up, palms out to show she isn’t holding anything.

“Listen, I’m just a simple man, who likes football and who occasionally reads ancient religious and occult texts. I know human souls are valuable to both Heaven and Hell based on the spark of divinity they hold or whatever. And I’d really prefer to keep mine. Please get out of the car.”

She pouts. The demon is actually pouting. “Fine. I’m going. I can clearly see there is no deal to be made here. I won’t waste any more of your time,” she says while opening her door. 

“Thank you,” I say, trying to hide my relief.

She pauses. “Though out of curiosity, what would you have asked for?”

“All I want in life is to be happy,” I answer instinctively. A mistake.

“Happiness? You don’t need a demonic contract to make that happen, you twit.”

“Oh, yeah? Lady, it’s been almost 39 years and I still haven’t figured it out. A demonic contract or a genie’s wish might be the only way I get there,” I chuckle quietly to myself, realizing just how sad that revelation is. 

“Perfidus. My name is Perfidus, not lady. We’re having this discussion.”

“You can’t have my soul!” I declare. 

“We’ve moved beyond negotiations for that. Your soul wasn’t that impressive to begin with. I’ve decided I don’t want it. Now I want to know what’s wrong with you?” She closes the door. Her gaze still upon me but less harsh than before. “What’s preventing you from being happy?”

“If I knew that, I probably wouldn’t be sitting in the desert talking to a demon. No offense.” Nervous laughter.

“Interesting. Have you ever been happy?” she pries.

“Of course. A very long time ago I was one of the happiest people on the planet. Then, my parents had a doctor mutilate my dick. It’s been all trust issues and anxiety since then!”

“Oh, my! When was that?”

“Couple hours after I was born,” I smirk.

“I cannot tell if you're joking or not?” Perfidus seems bemused. 

“You want to see the scar?” I ask while unzipping my pants. 

“No, no! That’s okay,” she puts her hands up between us.

“I don’t know how I felt about it at the time. I was just a baby. But looking back I can’t imagine that I wouldn’t have been pissed off at having someone cut off my foreskin. Female circumcision is considered a human rights violation. Why are western doctors still allowed to perform male circumcisions with impunity?” I ask rhetorically.

Perfidus places a hand on my shoulder, “I feel like you’ve gotten off on a tangent.”

“You’re right. Sorry. Thinking about it makes me mad. I was perfect. If they were going to modify me at birth they could have given me laser eyes or the super-soldier serum. You know, something useful instead of cutting off a bit of my dick. I mean what guy would ever agree to that? ‘Derp, derp, hey doc, people 100 years ago were bad at bathing and religion so can you make my dick smaller and make it so I feel less pleasure derp derp?’ No one. No guy would ever freaking say that!”

“Jackson, focus! Ranting about your penis isn’t going to help you find happiness. It might be time to let that one go.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” I take a deep breath, “So what now?”

“Have you ever been happy as an adult?”

“A few times. But I always find a way to screw it up.”

“How so?”

“Those damn trust issues.”

“Explain!” The demon demands. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m a demon in the middle of the desert. I’m not going to tell anyone. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?” She bats long eyelashes at me. 

I tilt my head to the side and stare in bewilderment before laughing and nodding. “Okay. When I was a kid something bad happened to me. All the PSAs and talking points in school said to tell a trusted adult. So I did. I told my parents. And they took that information and did nothing with it.”

“That’s horrible!” Perfidus gasps.

“Don’t get me wrong, mom and dad were good parents. They were loving and they usually made sure my sister and I were taken care of. But at the moment when I needed them the most, they failed me.”

“Do you want me to rip out their spines?”

“What? No! What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask.

“I’m a demon. It’s one of the many services I offer.” Perfidus smiles. “What happened after that?”

“At eight years old, I decided when it came to big stuff I couldn’t count on anyone else. I was on my own. I made sure I was never in a situation where that bad thing could happen again. I tried to move on with my life.”

“I’m sorry the people you trusted the most let you down,” the genuine empathy was unexpected from a creature hailing from the foul pits of Hell. 

“That’s not the worst part,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Years later, I learned that taking care of myself was the wrong move. The bad thing continued to happen to other kids for years. Including my little sister.” A slow trickle of tears begins rolling down my cheek and into my beard. “I should have done more. If my parents were incapable of helping I should have called the police myself. Or I could have just gone and murdered all of them.”

“You poor thing. Do you want me to rip their spines out?”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me!”

“I mean I’m pretty sure they’re already dead.”

“Then I’ll look them up when I get back below. The boss has a special place for those kinds of people. I’ll take a turn with their torture and tell them it’s from you. That one is on the house.”

“Thanks. It doesn’t matter. The physical scars faded long ago. It was not being able to depend on my own parents that screwed me up for life. Every time I think I’m happy, I can’t fully embrace it and go with it because in the back of my mind I’m just waiting for something bad to happen. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy because I usually end up doing something stupid to ruin everything myself.”

“That never works out well. In Hell something bad always happens, but we don’t live our afterlives expecting it. The anxiety from the anticipation would make everything so much worse.”

“Exactly!” I exclaim. “That’s what I’ve been living with for 30 years. I’m miserable and I make those around me miserable.”

“So in every relationship you’ve had, you’ve been looking for some kind person to love and nurture you?”

“What? No. I am just looking for someone who will understand and be patient with me.”

“I don’t think so.” The demons fierce eyes lock in on my own. “You want a mother!”

“No, I don’t.”

Perfidus smiles wryly, “You never grew up. You’re a scared and broken little boy waiting for his mother to come and save him.”

“Even if that’s true-” 

The demon cut me off, “It’s a little fucked up. And it’s unfair to expect that from a girlfriend. I think I’m starting to understand why your relationships never work out.”

“Okay but even if a part of me does crave that kind of love is that really so bad? To want to be nurtured and encouraged and to know that someone has my back no matter what? To know that when terrible s**t happens I can count on someone to comfort me?” 

“No. It’s not so bad if you can reciprocate that kind of love. Do you love like that? Do you speak the love language your partner needs?” The demon crosses her arms and looks right through me. 

“I don't know but-”

“No more excuses, Jackson.”

I take another deep breath. “Okay. How do I fix myself? How do I stop being a selfish and miserable person?”

“Well have you tried…” Perfidu struggles to find the right words before eventually settling for, “Not doing that?”

“Are you seriously asking if I have tried not letting years of crippling anxiety and depression stemming from a childhood trauma sabotage my relationships?”

“Yes. More or less, that's what I’m asking,” Perfidus stretches her arms and rolls her shoulders. 

“Okay. I just wanted to clarify because it’s kind of a dumb question. The answer is kind of, sort of, in a way, not really. It’s hard to talk about my past with someone new, demons aside. I usually have to have some sort of trust with the person before I care to open that door. And unfortunately for me, by the time I get to that point the damage is usually done.” 

“You poor, thing,” she yawns. “Boo-hoo! Something horrible happened to you 30 years ago and you’ve been using it as an excuse to f**k over people ever since. Get over it!”

“Mocking my struggle is kind of a dick move.”

“You shouldn’t have called my question dumb!” she retorts.

“That’s fair. Anyway, I wish I could get over it. I wish it was that easy.”

“Jackson, you seem like a smart guy. Recognizing the reasons behind your issues is huge. The next step is just changing your behavior.”

I clasp my hands in front of me and lower my head, “I want to fix myself. I want to be happy. Tell me, Perfidus, what should I do?” 

“You’re pathetic. Five minutes ago you wanted nothing to do with me. Now you’re begging me for help.” She’s staring through me now. “Tell me, would you sell your soul if it meant that you would be happy for the next decade but then serve the infernal legion for the rest of eternity or until God and Lucifer reconcile, whichever comes first?”

“I would seriously consider it,” I say meekly. 

“That’s the wrong answer. Happiness comes from within. Stop living in the past, stop over analyzing the present. You’re going into the future one way or another, but you have to decide how you’re getting there.”

“Can I… can I choose to be cryogenically frozen for a thousand years so I can get a fresh start?” I ask hopefully.

“No. The technology for that is stupid and you’ll most likely bankrupt your family just to be frozen, then abandoned to thaw out and rot alone in a mausoleum in California.”

“Lame,” I lament. Sigh. “Crossroads.”

“What?” the demon is confused by the non-sequitur. 

“I’m literally and figuratively sitting at a crossroads. I have to decide what the next part of the journey looks like.”

“So put on your big boy pants and make a choice. Just make sure that you’re being honest with yourself and anyone else you decide to include.”

“Right. Choices. The crossroads. Maintain our current course, go the fun route, or take on new challenges.”

“You can’t keep going the way you’re going. That hasn’t gotten you anywhere near your happiness goal,” the demon explains while checking the nails on her right hand.

“You’re right about that,” I nod in agreement.

“See, you’re already making better decisions. So what’s it going to be?”

“I still don’t know.”

“Alright, let's discuss the remaining options. You could head to Vegas and have the time of your life. The gambling, the meaningless sex, the endless alcohol. Face it, with your family history of cancer and heart disease you probably don’t have that much longer on this mortal coil anyway. You might as well live it up while you can.”

“That does sound awesome. It’s been awhile since I’ve cut loose. It’s tempting.”

“Or you could go into the mountains and learn some noble truth about yourself but probably die alone.”

“Die alone on the road or at my destination?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Perfidus shrugs. “At the end, everyone’s destination is the same.”

“It matters to me. I wish I’d been better to people,” I lower my head again as I recognize the truth behind Perfidus’ words. 

“You’re thinking about taking the mountain road. You’re hesitant because you’re afraid to travel the difficult path alone,” Pefidus was adept at reading humans.

“Yeah, I am. The journey seems like it would be easier with a partner. I wish I hadn't chased them all away. I wish I'd been better to Her.”

“Well, it’s too late for you to take someone with you now. For someone to sit beside you on those dangerous, winding roads they would have to have complete trust in you. You said it yourself, you’ve destroyed that trust with everyone you’ve ever cared about.”

I wince. The truth stings. “I know. I just wish I hadn’t. To have someone riding shotgun to help navigate and to make sure I see the potholes seems like it would make getting to Happiness less difficult. Why does life have to be so hard?”

“You make it sound like this is just something that happened to you. Like it's all some giant misunderstanding. You need to realize this is your fault. The choices you’ve made are the reason your life is the way it is. You did this by not being honest about your past and lying in your present. You say it’s habitual self-protection, but really you’re just being an a*****e.”

“I mean that’s kind of what I was doing. I was subconsciously building walls and layers to protect myself. I was stopping people from getting to the real me. That way when they inevitably leave they wouldn’t be rejecting me, they’d be rejecting the fake me that I presented to them.”

“Hmm…” the demon considers this for a moment. “And how many people did the fake you hurt? How many women who wanted to ‘travel this road with you’ did you kick out and leave stranded?”

I hang my head in shame. “More than a few.”

Perfidus glares at me. “At some point you have to stop blaming your past traumas and just accept that you’ve been the problem.You are responsible for your own actions.”

“So you keep saying. But you’re right. You’re 100% right. Up to this point in my life, even when I try to take responsibility and do the right thing I still f**k it up. It always comes off like I’m gaslighting or just generally being a douchebag. I’m selfish and weak and I make bad choices. That’s why my marriage failed. And that’s a big reason of why everything always falls apart.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Well if life is like this road? Can I pull a u-turn and go back the way I came? Pick up the last one who wanted to get out and try to make it right.”

“I think you are taking the metaphor too far.” Perfidus pauses as she sees the deflated look on my face. “However, I suppose you could try but be warned no one stays in one place for long on this journey. She’s most definitely moved on. Besides, she’d have to be desperate to take you back. You broke her f*****g heart!” Perfidus says bluntly. 

Deep breath. “Okay. So I take the right road. I deal with the bumps, potholes, and various road hazards by taking responsibility for my actions, maybe doing some therapy, and changing my behavior to be a better person. Do I have any chance at winning back my muse? Like maybe she’ll meet me at the destination when she sees that I can be the guy she needs me to be,” desperately I search the demon’s face for anything to give me a glimmer of hope. 

Perfidus shakes her head and speaks, “You know how you humans are fond of saying ‘if you love something set it free?’ Well that one needed to be free of you. Consider this the first test of the new you. Be happy for her. Let her go.”

I slam back into the headrest. “I know. I really do.” Every breath I take is slow, deep, and deliberate. “I really do want her to be happy. I guess I was just hoping she’d realize that she could be happy with me.”

“Good boy, Jackson. Good job on being happy for her,” she ran a finger along my arm. “Keep working on letting go of the past, move forward, do better.”

“I’m going to try,” I say sincerely.

“In the words of urban youths everywhere, ‘Don’t just talk about. Be about,’” her eyes flicker again.

I stare through the windscreen into the night. “Alright so that’s it. I’ve decided on a path and I’m ready to start my journey.”

“Oh, goody! Which one did you decide upon?” she claps her hands.

“Seriously?” I shrug. “I am ready to be a better person. I’m going to accept the challenges and make it happen.”

“I would have recommended heading towards Sin City,” Perfidus winks.

“I know you would have, demon.” We share a laugh.

“Good luck, human. Do what you know is right in that stupid, semi-divine soul of yours and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll be fine or not. I do know that I’m tired of being a s****y person. I’m tired of hurting people. So I’m not doing that anymore.”

“Good for you. And who knows, maybe along the road you’ll pick-up someone to ride along,” Perfidus rubs my head and musses my hair.

“If karma is a thing I’ll probably meet a hitchhiker who’s secretly an ax murderer and get my heart cut out and eaten,” I chuckle again.

“You’re a dark and morose person, you know that. Keep it up and we might have a job waiting for you in Hell in a few years.”

“Hahaha…” I laugh. “I think I’m actually going to try to keep my not-so-impressive soul out of Hell, if that is okay with you?”

“Hmph. We’ll see.” And with that Perfidus is gone. 

Sammi’s engine roars back to life. Her headlights illuminate the empty crossroads. “Welcome back” The traffic light changes to green. Clutch depressed, first gear, pound the gas pedal. Ninety degrees to the right. We speed into the night. For the first time in this timeline we have found our purpose. We have found our drive.