The Tale of Tobias Fletcher and the Highway Demon (1011 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: one-part_stories red_right_hand
Rating: 2 on 36 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Stagger Lee (View user info) at 2006-04-12 13:00:47 EDT
The sunset is nothing but a thin orange line above the horizon. Dusk has claimed the landscape. Shadows deepen in the scrub on either side of the highway as twilight spreads its inky fingers across the hills and trees. Stars are just beginning to appear in the sky.
I'm staring down the road; pray to god I see headlights. But there is nothing. Nothing but endless miles of unbending highway. My legs are beginning to give way, they burn and they tremble and they don't seem to want to do any more walking. If my phone would just work, none of this would be necessary, but it seems that reception is an alien concept out here.
My left arm is hanging uselessly by my side, and I hope that it's not broken. The pain has subsided to a constant throb, reminding me of the low-grade static you always get on motel TVs out here even if the channel is clear. My right arm remains held out desperately to the side, thumb jutting into the uncaring sky. I'm still thumbing my way, even though I can see clearly that there is nobody within miles.
It wasn't supposed to be this way.
With that thought, my legs decide that this is far enough, thank you kindly, and they deposit me ungracefully onto the shoulder of the highway. My left arm becomes pinned under my fallen body, and the pain flares and writhes through my muscles. I let out an involuntary yelp and desperately scrabble for some purchase in the dirt with my right hand. I finally push myself off my offending left arm and I am left staring into what is rapidly becoming the night sky.
Then I hear a noise. It strikes me, because it is so commonplace, yet so out of place for my current surroundings. Out in the middle of nowhere, where the only sounds are the infrequent cries of birds and the rustlings of the crickets. It's the sound of someone flipping a coin.
I lift my head and see him. I sit up quickly, startled. He flips the coin again and grins. He is a man of indeterminate age, standing a mere half a dozen paces away from me, in the road. His skin is smooth, perfectly tanned; yet he doesn't look young, not exactly. I cannot see his eyes in the gloom. He wears an exceedingly well-cut suit and his teeth flash in the gathering dark.
"Hello, Tobias," he says, and his voice is a pleasant, almost singsong tenor. "You seem to be in a spot of trouble."
Aware that my eyes are bulging and my mouth is agape, I don't reply for a moment. Then I regain some paltry measure of composure and answer. "I...well, yes, you could say that," I manage.
"Indeed." His tone possesses an astonishing amount of camaraderie and goodwill. He moves closer. Two paces. He leans down and says, "Are you not curious as to how I came by your name, Tobias?"
I stare at him, mute. He chuckles. I still can't see his eyes. Shadows seem to pool around his eyes unnaturally.
"It's quite simple, dear Tobias," he says. "I know everyone. Everywhere. I'm positively a people person. My boy, I'm here to offer you a deal. It's the oldest deal in the world, a fair swap."
Too stunned to think of any other question, I ask, "What deal?" I curse myself for a fool even as I say it.
"You have no idea how happy I am that you asked!" He exclaims. He takes two more steps towards me and sits down, cross-legged, on the edge of the highway. "But don't you want to know the name of the man you are about to do business with?"
I don't, really. For some reason, the thought of asking him his name makes my skin crawl, and I fancy that the pain in my left arm intensifies.
But something prompts to say, "What's your name, then?"
He grins. He flips the coin, catches it and says, "Fisk, my dear boy! Roger Fisk, at your service! Yours and anyone else's! I live but to serve!" His eyes are still invisible, but there is a dancing, maniacal glee in his tone.
"Now," he continues, and the grin disappears like a magician's trick. "I'm quite sure you're anxious to hear my proposal. But first let me address some salient points that may interest you. First, that arm is broken. I'm sure you suspect this anyway, but wishing it weren't won't make it not so. Secondly, you've got no food or water. Thirdly, you're beat; you're out of energy, luck and time. And especially saved for last, you are going to die out here, my son."
I hear the truth in his voice, the urgency of his points. I can hear the essential reality of what he's saying. But I refuse to accept it. I can't accept it.
Even though I don't speak, he reads my expression without any trouble. Just like that, his grin reappears, though his eyes remain enshrouded. He springs to his feet and steps back, just one step. He waves his arms in the air.
"Nothing up my sleeves!" he proclaims, both to the deepening night and myself. He traces in the air with his fingers, a complicated gesture that my eyes have no hope of following in the near dark. He follows that complex gesture with a very simple one: his fingers draw a square in the darkness, and where his fingers lead, a glowing contrail follows, brilliant in the gloom. Yet the shadows do not leave his eyes.
Within the frame he has traced, a picture suddenly appears, full-colour and, at first, blinding in the dark. Then, for a wonder, the picture begins to move. It is at this point that I decide what I am experiencing cannot be real.
The picture he shows me is of myself, crawling along the shoulder of the highway. In the scene he portrays, I am ragged and broken. My skin and clothing is smeared with dirt from head to foot. My left arm trails uselessly and I drag myself awkwardly with my right.
I wince and turn away, and find my gaze pulled helplessly downward to my left arm.
I look up, and Fisk chuckles and snaps his fingers. The image vanishes. He springs towards me and crouches down once more. "You see?" he says. "This is what awaits you! The wilderness will claim you and chew you and spit you out. You're not built for survival, Mr Fletcher." The last sentence is spoken with a condescending sneer.
My gaze is drawn inexorably to the deep pools of shadow where his eyes should be.
"But you know what, Tobias? It doesn't have to happen that way. Not a bit of it! This is where my deal and I come in. Like it said, it's the oldest deal in the world; a barter, a straight swap." His grin is at its widest. "Your life. You get to keep it. But you pledge another life to me. Perfect! A clean trade! Nothing hidden, no catches, no inequality. One for one."
I stare at him. He is completely serious.
"This..." I stammer a little. "This can't be real. It can't be."
He strides across the dusty shoulder and slaps me across the face. The force of his swing knocks my head to the side and it stings, but there is something else, too. My skin burns where he touched it.
"Is the pain real?" he asked, as though it were a mere social enquiry, maybe asking me if I would care to join him for a game of golf or a round of drinks.
I nod, in silence, one hand pressed to my burning cheek.
"Good," he says. "A little pain now and then reminds you you're alive, Tobias. Remember that." Fisk leans back and then sprawls into a sitting position in the dust. "Now, regarding my deal. It won't be anyone you know. Not a bit of it. Why, it'd be positively criminal of me to even suggest such a thing, would it not? No, all I ask is that you pledge one life to me, in exchange for yours."
"But...but why?"
He waved one finger at me. "That's not important. What is important that I am offering you my help in exchange for something that doesn't cost you a single thing."
"Why, why can't you just help me?" There is a tremor in my voice that I hate, but I am powerless to stop. "Why?"
"Oh, come now. What would I gain from that? A better question would be: why would I offer something for nothing?" He smiles, and continues, "This gets us nowhere. Do or die time, Mr Fletcher. Make the deal, or don't."
I look at him. At his ageless face and shadowed eyes. I think of the image of myself, crawling along the desolate highway with only my death for company. I reach deep into the pit of my weakness and inadequacy and speak.
"Deal," I say, and with the words I am suddenly, terribly afraid.
Fisk springs to his feet and claps his hands. "Excellent!" he cries. "If I may trot out an old chestnut, Tobias, it has been an absolute pleasure doing business with you. Perhaps I'll see you around. But for your sake, I hope not."
Then, just like that, he is gone. I can't understand how, and I can't bring my mind to bear on the moment when he left. I sit in silence on the shoulder of the road, unable to summon the will to move. Sleep eventually comes to claim me.
Dawn. The sun blazes over the horizon. Already the sunlight is almost unbearably hot, and I shudder to think what it will be like when noon hits me in the open. I struggle to my feet, and I jar my broken arm and it sends an unmistakable message of pain shooting through me.
I cannot decide if last night's events were real.
I begin to walk slowly down the road, my good arm giving the thumbing hail.
Then, like a miracle, off in the distance, I see sunlight reflecting off the metallic roof of a car, approaching me at some speed. I cast my mind back to last night. It's not possible, I tell myself. I resolve to put it out of my mind.
Still, I wonder.
User Reviews
Submitted by DasHeer (user info) at 2007-05-24 09:34:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
kind of reminds me of neil gaiman
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-05-24 09:13:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sometimes you write almost-clichés. You're good at it and with it. But even though it isn't the same, it feels the same as something else I read sometime.
And I would have liked "ungracefully" to have been "ungraciously" - in keeping with the personification of his legs. Frankly, ungracefully is not a graceful word.
I'm not intending to insult. And as I said, it is not exactly a cliché, you just have a... polish? that feels borrowed.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-21 02:12:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't like you, but Orgasmatron does.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-18 12:14:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-18 05:14:22 (#)
Ranking: 2
I've got the haunting feeling that somebody is going to do something horrible to my teeth all morning. That and I can't stop pulling the skin off the back of my head. I think I'm nervous about something but I can't think what.
I'll ask the boss to make more coffee, that'll help me find the answer.
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Cheers Berty...I think.
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Submitted by tarnation (user info) at 2006-04-18 05:02:06 (#)
Ranking: 0
its good but you are no georgemichael
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Haha, get out of it.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-04-18 05:14:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I've got the haunting feeling that somebody is going to do something horrible to my teeth all morning. That and I can't stop pulling the skin off the back of my head. I think I'm nervous about something but I can't think what.
I'll ask the boss to make more coffee, that'll help me find the answer.
Submitted by tarnation (user info) at 2006-04-18 05:02:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
its good but you are no georgemichael
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-17 20:28:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks, you two.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-04-17 14:51:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2006-04-14 18:21:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Cool.
Submitted by Rocktsrgn (user info) at 2006-04-13 17:31:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 22:15:52 (#)
Ranking: 0
Rock: Thanks. No, I've never heard of them. If I didn't have so much new music to listen to at the moment I'd give them a go. Maybe later if I remember.
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He's old school blues - "Stagger Lee" is one of my favorites.
"Talking 'bout that bad man, cool old Stagger Lee"
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-13 10:15:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-04-13 08:01:12 (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good. It's like proper writing and spelling and everyfink.
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Yeah, geezer, spelling's well my thing, innit?
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Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2006-04-13 06:18:38 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:14:18 (#)
Ranking: 2
damn you I just flipped a coin to see if there was really a sound
there isn't
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Ha ha, everyone knows girls can't toss a coin.
This was really good. Just needed a little Robert Johnson playing in the background...
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Indeed. The sound of a flipping coin is one of my favourites.
Cheers. Yeah, it could do with Devil Went Down To Georgia, or even Up Jumped the Devil.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-04-13 08:01:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very good. It's like proper writing and spelling and everyfink.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2006-04-13 06:18:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:14:18 (#)
Ranking: 2
damn you I just flipped a coin to see if there was really a sound
there isn't
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Ha ha, everyone knows girls can't toss a coin.
This was really good. Just needed a little Robert Johnson playing in the background...
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 22:15:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
extacy: Thanks.
Bubba: Cheers. Sort of, yeah. Wasn't really supposed to be him, but the name was a tribute.
Coyote: Thank you. Using an alias for my demon that had the initials RF was just a homage to Stephen King's character Randall Flagg, who always used various aliases, but they always had the initials RF. My character wasn't supposed to be Flagg, but I wanted to give him RF initials (as I said above to Bubba) as a tribute.
GLALL: Thanks. Haven't seen the movie, I'll have to check it out now.
AshK: Glad someone liked the ending. I love an open-ended story.
MyTeeOne: Cheers. Haha, sorry about that. I wouldn't worry too much about changing it if I were you - I mean, it was hardly an original idea of mine to have a man offered a deal like this.
ghola: Um, ok. Good.
Rock: Thanks. No, I've never heard of them. If I didn't have so much new music to listen to at the moment I'd give them a go. Maybe later if I remember.
Yellow_Dart: Thanks.
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-04-12 21:18:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-04-12 20:10:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Randall Flagg all over again.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2006-04-12 17:28:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this-- well-written and content to let the reader fill in the gaps for themselves. Does the name Fisk have an infernal connotation that I'm too ignorant to know about?
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2006-04-12 16:37:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good. Overall, I liked it. Almost a little too meandering at times, but just when I was starting to lose interest the story explained itself a little more. Felt like I was watching the movie "Crossroads" with Ralph Macchio. I have no idea why, other than the stranger offering a deal bit, that must be what it is. Awesome movie, by the way.
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2006-04-12 15:57:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I liked this alot. I remember reading something similar here that was not handled as well.
I liked the ending, we need fewer stories that lead the reader around by the nose.
Submitted by MyTeeOne (user info) at 2006-04-12 15:44:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice - you captured the feel really well.
On a related note, damn you...I had just put The Receiver in a similar scenario. Now I have to rewrite it. (Walks away grumbling and kicking puppies).
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-04-12 14:39:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i'm waiting on my pie today.
o yes i am.
i am in a good mood.
o yes i am.
lalalalallalala.
Submitted by Rocktsrgn (user info) at 2006-04-12 14:28:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice story.
Are you a Taj Mahal fan? Fun songs all around.
Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart (user info) at 2006-04-12 14:23:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
cool
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:38:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by MonkeyingAround (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:35:17 (#)
Ranking: 2
nice... I wish you would continue it though. It has potential for much more... keep 'em coming.
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Thanks. I don't think I can continue it though, this is all there was, really. Maybe I'll pick it up again some day.
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Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:34:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
i love your shit. where's the rest of the monster story? i want that one.
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Thanks. And to answer your question, right here: http://www.ubersite.com/u/Stagger_Lee/l/monster
Submitted by MonkeyingAround (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:35:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nice... I wish you would continue it though. It has potential for much more... keep 'em coming.
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:34:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i love your shit. where's the rest of the monster story? i want that one.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:18:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Cheers everyone so far.
Saccy, yeah, I wasn't sure how this was going to end...decided to go with ambiguity. I was going to draw the ending out a bit more, but it felt a bit like I was stalling, so I just decided to suck it up and close it out.
Oh, and no series, it's over.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:17:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:16:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. I felt like I was right there with your character the whole time..really felt it. Fucking great imagery. I feel like the end was lacking somehow..I expected something more, even though I often like an ambiguous ending. Series or no? Either way, it works well enough.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:15:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No, there is, I swear. You gotta catch it just right with your thumbnail. It goes "ting".
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:14:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by loki (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:14:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
damn you I just flipped a coin to see if there was really a sound
there isn't
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:08:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sorry but you just can't compete with GeorgeMichaels masterful storytelling!
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:08:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
You're right. Australian folk tales don't go down like this.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:05:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
He can't be in Australia though - because he hasn't been set upon by duck billed platypi and bastard snakes before Old Nick turned up.
Submitted by redskieslookfake (user info) at 2006-04-12 13:03:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Faustian