
02 Jan The Debt Collector
βThe Debt Collectorβ
Written by Shannon Higdon Edited by N/A Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
π§ Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
β° ESTIMATED READING TIME β 24 minutes
Grant could not have asked for a prettier day to drive on.Β He had only been driving for Uber for a couple of months now in his free time, but he enjoyed it so much it was, little by little, starting to surpass his time bartending.Β There was something about the freedom and mobility that drew him.Β βItβs like having a desk job with a constantly changing view,β he had told his mother.Β She still didnβt like it, however, citing the fact that people in the world these days were βout of their minds.βΒ Despite his motherβs pessimistic view of the general public at large, Grant found himself spending more and more time behind the wheel and βon the clockβ.
He signed onto the app around noon and had his first ride request less than a minutes later.Β A few minutes after that he was pulling his white, 2012 Pontiac G6 to the curb in front of the Mason Cemetery where his first ride waited on the sidewalk.Β Even in the brief period he had been driving, Grant had learned to expect the unexpected and this was definitelyβ¦unexpected.Β It was fortunate that his car had a fair amount of head-space and leg-room because the man was exceptionally tall, maybe six foot six, and carried a fair amount of muscle on his large frame.
He was a black man with a lighter complexion but strikingly handsome to look at.Β Grant wasnβt gay but he was smart enough to know what was considered attractive by todayβs standards and one thing was for sure:Β he didnβt want his girlfriend meeting this guy.Β His first impression was that the guy must have been a model, resembling a better-looking version of Tyrese Gibson.Β The outfit did nothing to hurt the impression either, as the guy was dressed to the nines.
The suit, shirt and tie were solid black giving him somewhat the appearance of an undertaker but much, much classier.Β The suit itself had to cost more than Grantβs car.Β Β Maybe he just went to a funeral.Β The man put his head down to the window.
βYou my Uber?βΒ His voice was rich and deep, somewhere between a Morgan Freeman and a James Earl Jones.
βYea,β Grant replied, βhop in.β
βFront or back?β he asked.
βUp to you budβ¦whatever youβd prefer.βΒ The man picked up two large black briefcases from the sidewalk, which Grant hadnβt noticed, and put them side-by-side in the back seat before climbing into the front.
βSo the app says youβre going to Milton Estatesβ¦is that right?β
βWellβ¦βΒ The man paused for a moment, obviously trying to figure out the best way to phrase his proposition.Β Β βSo hereβs the thingβ¦Grant; it is Grant isnβt it?βΒ Grant nodded; his name was listed as the driver as well as a description of his car before he ever arrived.Β βI actually need someone to take me around to several places today; not just to Milton Estates.Β I will of course cover the rate and Iβm willing to give you a hundred dollar tip for the dedicated service today.Β How long were you planning on working his afternoon?βΒ Grant really hadnβt thought about it.
βI donβt knowβ¦a few hours, I guess.Β I didnβt really have a quitting time established yet.βΒ He was, however, relatively broke, having just paid rent and a hundred dollar boost would actually go a long way at the moment.Β βHow many places are we talking about?β
βAt the moment, and that might be subject to change, but at the moment I need to go to three different places.Β Itβs just that thereβs a fair amount of distance between them.β
βAll in town?β Grant asked.Β The man nodded.Β βI guess I can do that.βΒ He really needed the cash.Β Once he got into traffic Grant officially introduced himself even though the man already knew his name; basically seeking a name to put to the other manβs face.
βMy name is LeZaza,β he responded.
βLeZaza?β Grant repeated and LeZaza nodded again, apparently a man of few words.Β βThatβsβ¦different.Β I donβt think Iβve ever heard it before.Β Is it African?βΒ The question was probably too politically incorrect for the current social environment but Grant had never been one to think through his words before they escaped his mouth.Β Fortunately, his passenger didnβt seem offended.
βNo.Β Itβs actually much older than anything from Africa.βΒ Grant didnβt know how to respond so he just kind of nodded in agreement.Β Β This was going to be an odd dude.
βSoβ¦β Grant glanced in the rearview at the cases in the back seat.Β βI donβt want you to take this the wrong way but I kind of need to ask since weβve got multiple stops going on here.Β Youβre not doing anything illegal, are you?Β I mean, donβt get me wrong, if youβre selling drugs or something, Iβm certainly not gonna say anything.Β Hellβ¦I get high man, itβs all good.Β I just canβt be a part of anything like thatβ¦you understand?βΒ LeZaza gave a hearty chuckle and the vision of a doubled-over Darth Vader popped into Grantβs mind.
βYou can put your mind at ease, young man.βΒ Β Young man?Β The guy couldnβt have been more than a few years older than he was.Β Probably one of those βold soulsβ his girlfriend claimed to be.Β βIβm doing nothing outside of the law.βΒ It wasnβt that he was particularly worried about it exactly, but Grant had learned there were certain procedural questions that needed to be asked in this line of work, especially in circumstances where one person is making several stops.Β Drug dealers were some of the first to utilize Uberβs services.
LeZaza pointed at the radio.Β βMay I?β he asked.
βYeaβ¦of course,β Grant replied.Β βWhatever station you want; I can listen to anything, pretty much.βΒ LeZaza turned on the radio, not too loudly, and scrolled through the stations before settling on a classic rock channel Grant didnβt even know existed.Β They continued on while Mick Jagger asked you to guess his name in βSympathy for the Devilβ and eventually arrived in the super-ritzy Milton Estates with its million-dollar homes.Β Although he had driven past the gate several times, Grant never imagined he would ever go inside.Β The front guard took one look at LeZaza in the passenger seat and opened the gate immediately as if he knew the man and exactly why he was here.Β There were no conversations involved.
LeZaza pointed to a beautiful home somewhere near the center of the subdivision and motioned for Grant to pull up.
βFront curb or driveway?β Grant asked and the man in the black suit only shrugged with indifference so he drove into the circular driveway and came to a stop directly in front of the main entrance.Β In no particular hurry, his passenger got out, retrieved one of his large, black cases from the back and proceeded into the home.Β He didnβt knock or ring the doorbell, didnβt even check to see if it was locked; just walked in with an ease he seemed to anticipate.
Grant turned off the radio while he waited.Β It wasnβt due to any particular aversion to the classic rock but the inane ramblings of the deejay were beginning to give him a headache.Β He could turn it back on when his passenger returned; which happened to be about ten minutes.Β LeZaza came out, closed the door behind him, placed the case back in the rear and climbed back in before pulling his phone out of his inner breast pocket.Β Grant was jealous the moment he saw it.
Something of a technology buff, he was surprised that he had never come across a model like that before and he took a mental picture to look up online when he got a chance.Β After scrolling through a couple screens, his passenger turned to him with the directions to their next destination.Β Normally, Grant would have fed the info into his GPS but he was actually familiar with the place they were going:Β Highwood Academy.Β It was a boarding school for military cadets; growing up his parents had threatened to send him there just about every time he broke curfew.Β It was all the way across town as well.
They got back on the interstate and LeZaza, without asking, turned on the radio again.Β Van Halen was βRunning with the Devilβ and Grant felt his headache starting to return.Β Β Maybe it was the music after all.Β When they reached the interstate, Grantβs lack of verbal filtering struck again as he blurted out another question that was probably inappropriate.
βSo, Mr. LeZaza,β he began.
βJust LeZaza,β the passenger interrupted to correct him.
βSorryβ¦LeZaza then, what is it you do, or rather, what are we doing today?βΒ Grant instantly regretted asking.Β βYou know whatβ¦never mind.Β Itβs none of my business.β LeZaza was calmly unfazed however and when he answered it acted as incentive for Grant to ask even more.
βIβm a debt collector.βΒ That made senseβ¦kind of.Β Β βAnd you donβt have to apologize.Β Curiosity is human nature.β
βSo if youβre a debt collector,β Grant verbalized his string of thought as it came.Β βWhy arenβt you driving your own car?Β Wouldnβt that be easier?β
βNot really,β LeZaza replied.Β βMy car is a little ostentatious; a one-of-a-kind actually.Β Very easily recognized.Β Iβve found that if I use a different driver with a different car every day then itβs harder for them to see me coming.βΒ That was a little weird but it probably made sense that people would avoid paying their debts.
βOhβ¦I see.Β So,β Grant continued while David Lee Roth crooned in the background, βI guess you work for the government then?βΒ LeZaza smiled oddly and, while it looked like something one would see in an ad for menβs cologne or something, Grant found it a little unnerving.
βNot exactly,β was all he replied and Grant let it go for the time being.Β Forty minutes later, when they reached the gate of the academy the guard, much like the one from Milton Estates, merely nodded in recognition and opened the electric metal bars for them to drive through. Β Β Grant pulled right up front where LeZaza told him he would only be a few minutes before grabbing a case and heading inside.
Grant turned off the radio again and rubbed his temples.Β He was starting to get a real humdinger.Β Probably his allergies.Β In the fifteen minutes he had to wait, his mind began to wander to places it probably shouldnβt.Β βNot exactlyβ;Β what in the world did that mean?Β Β What kind of debt collector was this guy?Β Was he carting around some kind of mobster or something?Β Sure there were legitimate collections jobs where people avoided you but they werenβt grabbing cars so he wasnβt a repo-man, and they werenβt taking in any new passengers, so he wasnβt a bounty-hunter.
βYou watch too much reality T.V.,β he muttered to himself as he tried not to look at the remaining case in the back seat.Β Even he knew that would have been beyond the bounds of proper behaviorβ¦butβ¦what the hell was in there?Β Fortunately his passenger returned before the impulse became too strong.Β Same as before he put the case in the back, settled in and referred to his cell phone for the next address.Β HeΒ didΒ have to feed that one into his GPS, however and was somewhat shocked when the directions came up.
βThis is in the lower-east side!β he exclaimed.Β βI canβt go there.βΒ Still stoic, LeZaza turned to him.
βWhy is that?β he asked in deep voice.
βLook at me.βΒ It seemed obvious, but maybe this guy was somewhat new to the area.Β βYou see that Iβm whiteβ¦right?βΒ Grant didnβt consider himself racist in the least but there were certain things that just fell under the umbrella of common sense.Β One didnβt go into the hood unless they had a damn good reason and one didnβt use the N-word no matter how tight they were with their black crew or how much they wanted to be one of them.Β βThey would kill me in Tremont Heightsβ¦especially if you leave me in the car alone.β
LeZaza seemed to give it some serious contemplation and was about to reply when his cell phone buzzed.Β He put one finger in the air, essentially putting the conversation on pause, and answered the call.
βYes sirβ¦Iβm heading to the thirdβ¦noβ¦not at allβ¦I have an excellent driver, yesβ¦twoβ¦I donβt know; Iβll ask him.βΒ He turned his attention back to Grant.Β βCan you take me to two more locations after this next one?βΒ Grant wasnβt even sure he wanted to go to the next one.Β The whole situation was starting to feel a little sketchy for reasons he couldnβt quite put his finger on and he was practically on the verge of declining the offer when LeZaza pulled a golden money clip holding an indeterminable amount of cash from his coat pocket.Β Grant could tell that the top bill was a hundred and if they all were then the guy was easily carrying fifty grand.Β Β Guess the answered the question as to what was being collected.
βHow about this,β LeZaza continued, sensing his sudden apprehension.Β βHow about, in addition to the initial one-hundred dollar tip, we add anotherβ¦oh, I donβt knowβ¦thousand?βΒ Β One thousand?Β This guy was going to give him eleven hundred dollars for three more stops?Β Β Was he insane?Β There was no way this could be on the up and up.
βWhat about Tremont?Β I mean, seriously manβ¦have you ever been there before?βΒ LeZaza turned his attention back to his phone call, essentially tuning the driver out in the process.
βYes sir, heβll do itβ¦yes sirβ¦yes sirβ¦I appreciate that sirβ¦as always I live to serve your word.βΒ Β Live to serve your word?Β This was bizarre on a level Grant had never anticipated, but that being said, the weirdo was rightβ¦he needed that money.Β Grant put the car in gear and pulled out of the school.Β Thirty minutes later, he brought up the fact that his discomfort with the ghetto was more than just white-privilege paranoia.Β There were news stories, practically every day, of someone being shot in that neighborhood and for reasons a lot less trivial than just being a white guy.
βYou donβt have to worry; Iβll keep you safe.βΒ Grant wasnβt so sure.
βThatβs easy for you to sayβ¦youβre a big, jacked-up black dude.Β No offense.βΒ He didnβt seem offended and Grant gathered that was something the other man didnβt give into often.Β βWhat happens when you go inside and Iβm left all alone?Β How are you going to watch my back then?βΒ LeZaza flipped on the radio as a reply.Β The late Michael Hutchence was singing about his inner demons and Grant just sighed.Β Β He needed the money.
A little under an hour later they were pulling into another neighborhood that, much like Milton Estates, Grant never dreamed he would be going into; although for entirely different reasons.Β The address led them to a hovel of a home, maybe two rooms at most.Β The tiny, fenced-in yard hadnβt been mowed in any number of years.Β Young, African-American teens milled about on the various porches and loitered in the street.
Further down, little girls could be seen playing hop-scotch and the entire environment felt free of any tension.Β Up until the second Grantβs G6 pulled up, that was.Β He could feel the heat from all the stares that fell upon him and he hoped that the sight of a large, well-dressed, black man getting out of his car would be enough to discourage any interaction.
LeZaza jumped out without a word, grabbed his case and headed inside as if he owned the place.Β Grant looked around nervously.Β The number of glares thrown in his direction became more than he could count; he had never felt so out of place in his entire life.Β He had also never been anywhere where he had to worry aboutΒ losingΒ his life.Β Β Relax manβ¦youβre getting yourself worked up for no reason.Β He hoped it really was paranoia run amuck but when three kids in typical gansta-gear, complete with gold chains and baggy pants that came nowhere near their waists, started towards the car he wasnβt so sure.
Grant tried not to make eye contact as he clocked them peripherally and, to his utmost dread, they were coming right to him.Β The image of his mother at his funeral saying, βI told him not to work for Uber,β flashed through his mind.Β What didnβt occur to him in time to do anything about it without being seen, was to take off his fatherβs watch, which was a family heirloom and worth more than everything else he owned combined.Β Grant hated himself for being socially engineered to even think that way but when they came up to the open window it was the first thing they said.
βNice watch, white-boy,β one of them started, the aggression thinly veiled.
βMmm-hmm,β the second agreed with him, βthat shit would look tight on my wrist.βΒ The third thug had a different opinion.
βNahβ¦thatβs gonna be all me, G-mo.β Β He looked directly as Grant and patted his hip, insinuated that some type of firearm was tucked in beneath the baggy tee-shirt.Β Grant doubted that was the case since it would have had to been held in place by the kidβs boxers, but it wasnβt exactly something he wanted to call a bluff.Β βWhy donβt you go ahead and pass that watch over here.Β This is what you call a βtoll-roadβ and that thereβs your toll.β
Sweat beading up on his forehead, Grant was actually frozen with indecisive fear.Β That watch meant the world to him; he would have rather given up his car, but was it worth the possibility of losing his life over.Β His father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great, great-grandfather would probably have said no, but he didnβt want to be the one responsible for letting it slip out of the family.Β Β It was supposed to go to his son, for Peteβs sake.Β He didnβt know what to say and, fortunately, didnβt have to.
βThere some kind of problem here, gentlemen?βΒ It was LeZaza.Β Grant hadnβt noticed him coming back out and, obviously, neither had his visitors as they all took a step back upon seeing the big guy.Β The hoodlums shared a look with each other as if to underpin that they had each otherβs backs, and then turned back to the car with a reinforced determination.Β This was their hood and they were going to take what they wanted.
βWeβre gonna get that watch, my brother, and I would stand down if I were you,β the first one spoke again.Β βYou a big boy and all but you donβt want to fuck with our crew; Iβm tellin you right now.βΒ LeZaza began to walk around the front of the car and the boys took a defensive position; ready to jump him with the slightest provocation.Β When he reached the other side he reached into his blazerβs outer pocket and pulled out a gold watch.
Obviously it couldnβt be verified from the angle or the distance but Grant would have sworn that it was identical to his fatherβs watch.Β Of course, that couldnβt be possible; his was a very rare, classic model that was difficult, if not impossible, to find anymoreβ¦but it sure looked like it.Β When the wanna-be gangstas saw the gold, their body language changed immediately and the situation went from being a probable robbery to a possible business deal of some type.
LeZaza led them away from the car to the other side of the street, continuing to pull various pieces of gold and jewelry out of his pockets the whole way.Β Within minutes the boys were covered in more watches, chains and ice than even they were safe to carry around with and LeZaza was handing them his cell phone.Β One at a time, in turn, they held their thumbs to the screen as if it were recording their prints, but Grant knew better; or at least thought he did.Β Β That wasnβt how cell phones workedβ¦was it?
A few minutes later, LeZaza was climbing back into his Uber and the teens were rushing away, much quicker than they had approached, hooting and hollering as they went.Β They, seemingly, were pleased with the way things worked out.Β Grant got his directions and peeled out, drawing more unintended looks from the squealing tires, but not caring in the least.Β The quicker they were out of that area, the better.
The next address was in a neighborhood that seemed filled with retirees and the elderly barely able to still care for themselvesβ¦and cats; there were a lot of cats running around.Β Much as he had become accustomed to, Grant pulled right into the driveway of the well-maintained little home that looked like a ginger-bread house come to life.Β Wordlessly, LeZaza got out, grabbed his second case this time and headed into the home.
Grant was grateful for the reprieve and the opportunity to turn the radio off again.Β He couldnβt remember ever finding music thatβ¦irritatingΒ before.Β Even Charlie Danielβs classic βDevil Went Down to Georgiaβ was making him grit his teeth and he loved that song as a child.Β The average ten to fifteen minutes passed before his passenger came back out again but this time he wasnβt alone.Β The windows were down, but it was still difficult to hear exactly what was going on.
An elderly, black lady was cryingβ¦sobbingβ¦grabbing his hands; trying to keep him from leaving.Β Falling to her knees, she began to passionately beg him for something.Β LeZaza turned to her.Β He didnβt seem terribly fazed by her emotional display but his demeanor was one of compassion.Β He put his hand on the top of her head as she was doubled over, nearly to the point of hysterics.Β He said something to her.Β Grant couldnβt make it out at all but he recognized the deep timbre of LeZazaβs voice.Β Whatever it was seemed to calm the old woman somewhat.
She looked back up into his eyes and emphatically nodded her head up and down, the tears suddenly subsiding.Β LeZaza looked back at the car and held up his finger again as if to say βone more minuteβ, helped up the lady and handed her his cell phone.Β Similarly to Grantβs would-be robbers, the woman held her thumb to screen for a moment and then LeZaza, case in hand, followed her back inside.Β It ended up being a little longer than one minute but Grant was beyond the point of complaining now.Β Any time a disparaging thought came up he just said,Β eleven-hundred dollarsΒ to himself.
LeZaza returned and they were off to their last destination.Β Grant tried to initiate conversation before the other man realized that the radio was off again.Β He would have killed for an Ibuprofen.
βSo what was that all about?βΒ A long enough period of silence passed that Grant figured he wasnβt going to receive and answer when LeZaza finally spoke.
βSometimes the family of people I collect from do not react well.Β Sometimes they offer to pay the price in their place.Β There are penalties for this, of course, but itβs not something we donβt allow.βΒ Grant mulled this over.
βSo the old lady paid for the debt?βΒ LeZaza nodded in agreement.
βYesβ¦and her husband paid the penalties, but now her sonβs debt has been paid and he wonβt have to worry about seeing me again.Β Unless he decides to make another deal with us, that is.βΒ Β This guy was spooky.Β Β Grant couldnβt tell if he liked the guy or not but, for the time being, he was happy to be on his good side.
βSo you guys are like loan-sharks then?βΒ LeZaza, gazing out the window, didnβt answer this time.Β Grant pressed.Β βWhatβs in the briefcasesβ¦money?βΒ The passenger finally turned to look back at him.
βWhat happened to βitβs none of my businessβ?βΒ While he had a point, after the oddities he had witnesses so far, Grant was starting to think that itΒ wasΒ his business.Β If everything was as it should be why did he get so damn nervous every time they passed a cop car?Β If this guy carried a bank vault and jewelry store in his coat pockets,Β what on Earth could be in the mega briefcases?Β Grant had a hard enough time keeping his mouth in check that he didnβt even try to contain his thoughts.
βYeaβ¦youβre right.Β Itβs justβ¦I donβt knowβ¦with all the valuables you seem to be carrying, arenβt you concerned at all?Β I mean, what if those kids had pulled a gun on you?β
βThey would have regretted it.βΒ It sounded like a clichΓ©, action-movie line but LeZaza said it with a calm conviction that belied a menacing level of self-confidence.Β Grant was starting to believe that there probably werenβt many situations that the man couldnβt handle so, for the moment, he let it go.Β They were on their way to the last stop all the way on the other side of town again.Β Realizing that more gas was going to be needed, Grant pulled the Pontiac into an Exxon and got out to pump it.
His passenger was nodding his head to the Beatles βDevil in her Heartβ while he was standing there, watching the digits tick by, when LeZaza received another call from his apparent supervisor and turned the music off. Β Grant couldnβt tell what he was saying but it didnβt matter because he found out the moment he got back behind the driverβs seat.
βWe have a change of plans,β LeZaza started.Β βStill going to be our last stop but I need to head to a different location.βΒ Grant just shrugged; it didnβt seem like a big deal at this point.
βOkay,β he said as he pulled the Garmin GPS unit off its mount in the window.Β βWhere we headed?βΒ Once again, the GPS became unnecessary because he knew exactly where his passenger wanted to goβ¦all too well.
βFour-hundred Mountain Crest Lane?Β Why do you need to go there?βΒ LeZaza didnβt seem to understand.
βI thought we already determined that,β the rider replied indifferently.Β βI need to collect a debt.βΒ Grant knew he was probably being irrationally worried but he had to know.
βItβs an apartment complexβ¦which apartment to you need to go to?β
βYou donβt need to concern yourself with that.Β Just park in the front as weβve been doing.βΒ Grant shook his head.Β They werenβt going another inch until he had the information he wanted.
βLook buddy,β Grantβs tone was much harsher than was probably wise to use.Β βI know someone that lives in that complex and until I know that it isnβt themβ¦well, youβll need to find another ride.βΒ LeZaza pulled his phone back out and looked at the screen.
βGrant,β he began coolly, βUnless your friend is named Tracy Masters, you have nothing to worry about.βΒ The color drained from Grantβs face when he heard the name of the girl he had been dating seriously for the last six months.Β Β This is crazy.Β It made no sense at all and Grant felt frozen in his seat.Β The next several seconds passed like minutes while his mind desperately tried to come to terms with this new information.
βWhyβ¦β he stammered, βIβ¦I donβt understand.βΒ Tracy didnβt need money; she came from a wealthy family and even if she hadnβt she was hands down the single most talented person Grant had ever met.Β She was an amazing musician who, in addition to her stunning voice, had already mastered more instruments than the fingers he had on one hand, and that was only the beginning.Β Tracy was an artist; painting, sculpting and creating mind-blowing abstract pieces.Β She wrote beautiful poetry and insightful short stories and all these things combined left Grant baffled at to what she could have possibly ever needed from the loan-shark he had been carting around all day.Β It felt like he had been punched in the gut.Β βWhyβ¦why would she come to you?β
βI can tell youβre very close to this person and that is unfortunate,β LeZaza tried to console. Β βYou should not have been put in this situation, but the fates of destiny are fickle bitches at best.βΒ Grant was getting pissed.
βI really donβt need your Confucius bullshit right now, LeZaza.Β Tell me what you gave her.Β How much does she owe you?βΒ Grant had already decided that he wasnβt taking this shady bastard to his girlfriendβs apartment but even if he didnβt, the guy would still find his way to her.Β He needed to figure out how to put this to bedβ¦here and now; even if it cost him eleven hundred dollars.
βHow long have you been seeing Tracy Masters?βΒ It wasnβt exactly on topic but it was close enough that Grant would continue down that avenue; it would be unwise to alienate the man before some type of resolution could be reached.
Grant shook his head.Β βSix months or soβ¦why?β
βIt helps me to determine your point of view.βΒ Β What does that mean?Β Β LeZaza continued, βIf you had known Tracy five years ago, you would have known an entirely different person.βΒ Β Of course she was a different person; we all were.Β βAll of the wonderful things she is able to do usually come from lifetimes of practice and dedicationβ¦correct?βΒ Β This had better be going somewhere!
βShe has natural talent.βΒ Grantβs voice was barely a whisper but the comment brought about another round of raucous Darth Vader laughter.Β Β He was really starting to dislike this guy.
βNo one has that much βnatural talentβ.Β Your girlfriendβs magnificent gifts are just thatβ¦gifts.βΒ LeZaza paused to correct himself.Β βNoβ¦thatβs not exactly accurate.Β Gifts are given for free, whereas, her abilities came with a price.βΒ Β Was the crazy son-of-a-bitch trying to say what he thought he was?Β That somehowΒ heΒ or at least his organization was responsible for Tracyβsβ¦abilities; it was ludicrous thing to claim.
βPrice?β Grant muttered, his anger slowly shifting to anxiety then fear.Β βWhat is the price?β
βThatβs between she and I, Iβm afraid.β
βBut,β Grant wouldnβt be dissuaded that easily, βyou said the debt could be paid by othersβ¦family.Β She is practically family; I hope sheβll be my wife one day.βΒ LeZaza put his phone back in his jacket and sighed.
βYou could cover her debtβ¦yes, but there is a penalty.Β You cannot pay the penalty; it will have to come from someone else.βΒ Β It didnβt make any sense at all.Β How would LeZaza know he could cover the debt; he knew nothing about him.Β Furthermore, the large man had to have already come to an assumption regarding his financial state given Grantβs eagerness to be of assistance when the wad of cash was offered.
βSomeone else?Β For the love of monkeys, can you please just tell me in plain English what the hell weβre talking about here?Β Iβm getting a little sick of your zen-budda, bullshit, Yoda answers.Β Just tell me what I need to do.βΒ The fear was shifting back to anger; his meter in a state of constant fluctuation.Β LeZaza sighed again before turned his full attention towards Grant.
βVery well, Grant.Β I will give you the basic pitch as it regards to you.Β You tell me what you want.Β It can be just about anything in the world, minus a few minor scenarios.Β I will grant your wish and you will have five years to enjoy the fruits of whatever it is you would ask for.Β When one-thousand, eight-hundred and twenty-five days have passed, I will return for the payment of your desires:Β your soul.βΒ Β Was this guy for real?Β Grant couldnβt help but to chuckle but the other man just continued on.
βWe will be willing to exchange the payment of your soul for that of Tracy Masters, however, there is the penalty of one additional soul which will, of course, also receive a five-year period of the blessings of their own choosing.Β If you know someone who would be willing to agree to this deal as well then we will release the contract of Tracy as well as allow her to retain her desires.Β Are these conditions that you can agree to?β
Grant didnβt know at what point he had stepped into βThe Twilight Zoneβ, but, crazy or not, this guy was dead serious.Β Β Maybe this was a prankβ¦maybe he was being set up?Β He hadnβt see any television cameras but what he had seen was enough oddities to collaborate the nutβs story that Grant really didnβt know if he should believe him or not.Β It was obviously insane but Grant had always believed in an entire world of existence beyond what regular people could see or hear on a daily basis.
Call it heaven, another dimension or the spirit-realm, Grant had a strong faith that humankind would never get the full picture until deathβ¦and maybe not even then; it would have been foolish to assume otherwise.Β So he was Ubering either a crazy man or demonic soul-collector; neither prospect seemed terribly desirable.Β If LeZaza were a mad-man, what would he do to Tracy?Β Would what he considered to be retrieving her soul, actually result in her death?Β Β Had he been killing people all day?
Then there was the alternative.Β If he had actually stepped into a moment outside the bounds of rational reality, could he really let Tracy lose her soul?Β Grant didnβt consider himself a particularly religious man, but he did believe in the existence of the soulβ¦believed it to the degree of having no doubt.Β So following that natural course he had to ask himself:Β would he be willing to trade his soul for hers?Β Grant had never pondered such a metaphysical question before and was surprised by the speed at which he received his answer:Β Β yes.Β He loved Tracy more than anything.Β He loved her more than he loved himself and that was really the bottom line.
That being said, he had no idea who else would be willing to make such a sacrifice.Β Her parentβs lived in France and he wouldnβt have a clue how to get in touch with them.Β From the stories she had told about her family, they werenβt really the self-sacrificing types anyway.Β Grant wracked his brain but couldnβt come up with a single person he would even begin to approach with this kind of request.
βWell?βΒ LeZaza prompted after minutes of silence.
βOk,β Grant said with gloomy conviction.Β βIβll do it.β
βAnd for the penaltyβ¦you have someone in mind for that?β
βYea,β Grant lied, βI got someone.Β Weβll go there now.β
βWell,β LeZaza commented with a degree of surprise Grant had yet to hear in his voice.Β βThis is definitely an unexpected turn of events.Β A very fortunate turn Miss Masters at that.βΒ Grant put the G6 in gear and pulled out of the gas station with absolutely no destination in mind but hoping to buy enough time to figure something outβ¦anything.
βWhat is your wish then,β LeZaza asked when they got in the interstate.Β Grant had no idea; he hadnβt even thought about that.Β Then, with a sudden burst of inspiration, it came to him.
βI wish that no one else has to give up their soul to settle thisβ¦noβ¦wait.Β I wish that not only will no one else have to give up their soul, but then I wonβt have to either.Β Yeaβ¦thatβs my wish.βΒ Grant got a smug, got-cha smile on his face which the other man matched with his own sarcastic smirk.
βWell, I suppose those rare scenarios that I described arenβt actually that rare after all.Β That, Iβm afraid, is one of the things I cannot do; that or to extend your payment period.Β These things are beyond my control, unfortunately.Β But you continue to think about it.Β Thereβs no hurry for your wishβ¦not as far as Iβm concerned.Β Just know that the clock it about to start ticking.β
He reached into his blazer and pulled out the cell phone which Grant had tried so hard to get a look at earlier but now wanted nothing to do with.Β Keeping his eyes on the road, Grant tried to pretend he didnβt notice.Β It didnβt matter as LeZaza held the phone before the steering wheel.
βI need for you to place your thumb in the center of the screen for approximately two or three seconds, if you donβt mind.βΒ Β Like hell,Β Grant thought.Β His sanity was beginning to teeter into unknown regions.
βWhyβ¦β Grant asked, βWhatβs the purpose for that?β
βItβs your contract.Β Your print will act as your markβ¦theyβre one-of-a-kind, you know.βΒ LeZaza kept the blank video screen before him.
βI thought you guys were supposed to haveβ¦I donβt knowβ¦leather scrolls signed in blood or something like that.βΒ LeZaza laughed again.
βOnce upon a time, perhaps, but youβre talking about ancient history.Β This is the age of technology, my friend, as you well know.Β It behooves no one to fall behind the timesβ¦right?Β Maybe what you would like is your very own replica of the latest, most high-tech devices to exist in the world today?Β Iβve noticed your appreciation for my cell phone but Iβm here to tell you that its nothing compared with whatβs out there.Β Weβre talking anti-gravity, sonic weapons, weather manipulationβ¦you name it and itβs yours.βΒ He shook the phone as if to draw Grantβs attention.
βBut before any of thatβ¦you need to place your thumb on the pad.βΒ Grant realized that he had stalled about as long as he could and took one hand off the wheel to place his thumb on the pad; mind racing for some solutionβ¦anything at all.Β Then something did come.Β It started as an inkling of an idea in the back of his mind and grew to the point where Grant couldnβt actually think of anything else.
It scared the hell out of him but at the same time he was able to keep himself detached from the reality that he was considering the end of his mortality.Β The overwhelming feelings of love that he had for Tracy acted as his biggest motivating factor and any time he felt cold feet creeping up his pictured her faceβ¦her neckβ¦her lips; the way her skin felt under his hand.
LeZaza pulled the phone away.Β Β Did he really just sell his soul?Β Was that even possible?Β Grant forged forward with the plan; the moment he placed his thumb on that hellish gadget he had gone too far to turn back anyway.Β He knew it to be true.Β It was going to have to be now or never.
The Pontiac was just passing the forty-third mile marker and driving onto the Carrick Bridge which, at its peak, extended somewhere around four or five hundred yards above the empty ravine below.Β When they reached the center of the bridge Grant slammed on the brakes, sending the briefcases crashing into the back of their seats.
With his usual calm LeZaza asked, βWhat are we doing here Grant?βΒ Grant took three very large breaths before turning to the passenger from hell.
βAny wish?βΒ LeZaza nodded.Β βOkayβ¦I wish the Carrick Bridge was gone.βΒ LeZaza smiled a sly, βI know what you just didβ, smileβ¦but only for a second; and then they were falling.Β The sudden tug of gravity wrenched Grant upward, crushing him against the seatbelt.Β He grabbed the steering wheel in a death grip and closed his eyes.Β He didnβt want the last thing he saw in this world to be that demon next to him.Β Instead, he was reliving the sweetest, most gentle kiss he and Tracy ever shared when the G6 made violent contact with the ground; exploding into an enormous ball of fire.
* * * * * *
It was a beautiful day for driving.Β Laquisha had only been with Uber for a week but she had already met so many cool people; the whole experience being a lot more positive than her family warned it would be.Β Seventy-five degrees out, it was a windows down type of day and she was enjoying the warm breezes against her face as she pulled up to the cemetery.Β When she saw her first ride for the day her heart began to pound double-time and she became flush, hoping it wouldnβt turn into the dreaded embarrassing perspiration stains.
It had to be the finest brother she had ever seen in her life.Β Laquisha knew she had it going on; boys were always trying to get with her, butβ¦damn.Β There was no way she would be in this guyβs league.Β He was gorgeous.
βYou my Uber?β he asked through the open window; his voice deep and smooth like dark chocolate.Β She could have melted into her seat then and there, and it took her brain several long seconds to find the simple words she needed.
βUh-huhβ¦β that and a head nod was all she could manage.
βFront seat or back?βΒ Her mind threw up a split-second image of Don Cornelius of βSoul Trainβ fame.Β It was that kind of voice. Β She found the words much quicker this time putting on her sexiest smile.
βOh babyβ¦Iβm gonna say front.βΒ She patted the seat next to her and prayed he wasnβt gay.Β The guy was huge and when he smiled back Laquisha was pretty sure she was already in love. Β He put some kind of luggage in the back seat but she only saw it from the corner of her eye, unable to take her gaze off his perfectly sculpted face and body.Β He was a super-tight dresser as well with his P-Diddy black suit and tie, basically looking like he stepped out of a ritzy rap video.
The man pointed at the radio as they pulled into traffic and Laquisha nodded.Β βYou the deejay, brother.βΒ He found a rap channel she had never seen before, which was unusual since she thought she knew them all.Β Immortal Techniqueβs βDance with the Devilβ blasted out and she raised a hand in the air to dance with the beat.
βWhere to baby doll,β she asked after they were already on the road, seeming to have forgotten what was listed on the app; her brains scrambled by his hotness.Β Β The passenger pulled out a sweet cell phone and relayed the address.
βFour hundred Mountain Crest Lane.Β Itβs an apartment complex.βΒ Laquisha couldnβt get rid of her perm-grin.Β Β This was going to be a fun day.
βYea handsome,β she beamed.Β βI know where it is.Β Buckle up.β
π§ Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by Shannon Higdon Edited by N/A Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/Aπ More stories from author: Shannon Higdon
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