Gladys hated riding in Vern's old truck down the back roads around Tupelo, nothing but pothole after pothole. "Slow down, for heaven's sake," she shouted at her husband.
He grinned at her. Vern loved going fast over these roads, with his next greatest love involved seeing how afraid Gladys would get, especially when the truck fishtailed around a corner making her squeal. A big plume of dust billowed behind them coating the trees that seemed to hang over the road like a wall of green. Vern spotted a corner that he liked approaching, and floored the pedal. "Don't you dare," Gladys shouted at him over the loud engine, but she knew her protests only encouraged him.
The wild side of Vern something that she cherished in him. He could seem so quiet and shy sometimes, that it could be painful to watch. However, when he cut loose in moments like these, it aroused her.
"Hold on, sweet pea," he yelled as the truck rounded the corner at full speed.
"VERRRRRRRRRRRRNNN!" Gladys yelled as the truck began to sashay across the road.
As the ride began to smooth out again, at the skilful hand of Vern, something silvery flashed from the side of the road. "Watch out!" Gladys called out too late.
A figure stepped on the road a few feet in front of them, too close for Vern to do anything about it, and in a moment that ran in slow motion, the truck hit the man. Gladys watched helplessly as the man turned and looked right at her, his eyes wide with fright, followed by the bone jarring thud as the front of the truck hit the soft body. His body rolled onto the hood and hit the windshield, and cracking it severely, then disappeared over the back of the truck into the dust cloud that swallowed him whole, like some merciless monster.
Vern hit the brakes when he saw the man, but the old drum brakes needed pumping before they did any good. They pulled up one-hundred feet away, at a stop that made Gladys hang onto the dashboard for grim life, to stop herself hitting the windshield. "What have you done?" She shouted at Vern, tears already rolling down her cheek.
"What chance did I have? He stepped out of thin air!" Vern said, visibly shaking.
They climbed out and ran through the dust still hanging in the hot humid air of the Mississippi summer. The man lay on the ground before them, not moving.
Please be all right, please Lord Jesus, help him
, Gladys thought as she ran. They reached the body lying on his back, his clothes bloody and torn.
Squatting next to him, Vern shook his shoulder shouting, "Mister? Mister? Can you hear me?"
"Is he alive?" Gladys asked, standing back fearfully.
Vern looked at the man's chest that still rose and fell. "Yep, he's breathin'," he said.
"We gotta get him to Doc Jones," Gladys said.
"Hmm... OK, I'll back the truck up and we'll take him," Vern said, stood, and ran back toward the truck.
The stranger moaned. Gladys fell to her knees next to him and took his hand. "It's OK, we're gonna take you to Doc Jones," she tried to reassure the man.
Looking down his body she could see bone sticking out of his leg, and wondered what other injuries he had. The man opened his eyes and turned his head toward her, blinking rapidly. "Kwala bon mesa?" he mumbled.
"What?"
"Kwala bon mesa?" he repeated.
Maybe he hit his head
, she thought. The man gripped her hand tightly, and as she was about to try to comfort him again, he started to glow. Her eyes fixed on his, they looked large, impossibly large. A pain began to grow in her head that became unbearable in seconds. She tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but couldn't. His eyes suddenly turned black. She screamed and collapsed unconscious next to the injured man.
As Vern backed his pickup truck down the road, he didn't see what happened to Gladys, he seen her lying on the road next to the stranger, and it frightened him. Once he had stopped, he jumped out of the truck in a hurry, and knelt next to her taking her hand. "Gladys? Gladys, can you hear me?" he shouted at her with a deep frown.
He waited, rubbing her hand and calling out to her for several minutes but she didn't wake. "Oh fuck it," he spat. He stood and opened the tailgate of the truck, then he scooped up Gladys into his arms and gently laid her out in the back. After that, he did the same to the stranger he had run over.
Once he was satisfied that the two were secure, he jumped into the truck and sped off back down the bumpy road.
*****
Gladys opened her eyes to find Vern, and her brother Travis, sitting near her. She looked around, and recognised Doc Jones waiting room with its strange posters of the human body, worn-out chairs, and grey walls. The air had a hint of cloves and antiseptic to its smell. Vern noticed she had woken, and jumped out of his chair and rushed to her side. "Sweet pea, are ya all right?" he asked with big eyes full of concern.
It comforted her seeing how much he worried for her. "Yeah, what happened?" she asked.
"I was hoping you'd tell me. You plumb fainted as I was backin' the truck up, for some reason?" Vern said.
She thought for a moment, but remembered nothing. "I don't know? One moment I was with that stranger, and the next I'm here," she said and sat up and spotted Travis. "Oh, hey Trav, don't tell me Vern's gone made a fuss over this," she said to him.
Travis walked up and kissed her forehead. "You know Vern," he said with a brash grin.
"You can talk," Vern said to Travis, "The moment you heard you were blubbering like baby."
Watching the two making a fuss made her smile. "What about the stranger? Is he OK?" She asked, remembering why they were here to begin with.
Vern shrugged. "Don't know. My business is with you first. Figure Doc Jones will tell us when he's ready to."
"Help me up," Gladys ordered.
"You sure? I mean we don't know wha..." Vern began.
"Come on, I feel fine," Gladys insisted.
They left the sitting room to look for Doc Jones and the stranger they ran over. They came to the door to his surgery and knocked. "Doc Jones? May we come in?" Gladys shouted.
The door swung open to reveal a portly man in his fifties, wearing glasses that hung low on his nose, and a suit vest over his white shirt with sweat stains under his armpits, and a gold watch chain going from a button to a pocket. "Gladys? How are you feeling?"
She shrugged. "I'm fine, Doc, but what about that man?" she asked, trying to look around him in the office.
"He seems all right," the Doc said with a nod.
"Where is he?" Vern asked.
"He's in the guest room, come on, I was about to go check on him anyway," Doc Jones said.
They followed down a corridor toward the back of the house and entered a room to find the stranger lying on a double bed covered in a sheet. His clothes lying on the table, all torn and bloody. He looked strange, his face slightly longer than normal, so he had a pointy chin with a high forehead that seemed to jut-out over his eyes. His pale-white skin contrasted with black hair. He had a darkness under his eyes, like someone who hadn't slept well for weeks, but no bags.
"Is he dead?" Travis asked, thinking the man looked like a corpse.
"No, he's alive. Blood pressure and heart rate is low, though," Doc Johnson said.
"How's his leg?" Gladys asked.
