Lie To Me: One Off.

This is going to be a one off story that is connected to the overall story, but this plays no significant role in personal growth, the story’s narrative, nor does it include Posey Jones. However, this story has stuck with me in the darkest nights and in my most solitude moments. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this.

The night was calm, the stars in the sky were bright, lighting my way back home as I bike down the main street. I had spent the day at work, the day was great, great business, the tips were bountiful, it was like one of those days were everything was just aligned. No difficult customers, all the orders were on time and correct, no call outs, it was a golden day. Biking home was just as amazing, the roads were practically empty, since I was riding a bike back and fourth to work it was dangerous at certain times of the day, I have been hit by cars on my bike before and I remember each time and where I was when I did get hit.

It has left me with a slight fear of being behind the wheel.

Picture this, riding home, the cool night makes it easy to pedal so your speed is peaking, turning down your street you are gaining speed as the only thing standing in the way between you and your bed is a small hill. Your pedaling is steady, your breathing is deep, your brain is swimming in endorphins. Then it hits. An overwhelming stink, the type of stink that offends your senses and cannot escape.

It was the sickening stench of iron and chemicals.

It was powerful, so powerful that my stride was broken mid-hill and almost had to get off and walk the rest of it. The smell was getting stronger and stronger and stronger, so I was close to the source.

Barely noticing the small white sheet that I have passed, then another…and then another. Finally, I get up the hill and see it. The circling lights of cops and ambulances are whirling. The section of the road was closed off, didn’t matter, no one was around. Some of the white sheets were bigger now, others were small or medium sized, scattered across the road and sidewalks. There are signs of crash, glass and plastic littering the road, however there was no sign of the vehicles involved. Gosh, the stink was too much. Not even breathing through my mouth was helping. I tasted iron.

I could barely see two officers, one of them looked like he was holding back tears, and the other was trying to console him. I continued to ride home. Getting home I was almost instantly assaulted by the feeling of being watched. You know what I mean. The hairs on your body stand on end, the back of head is tingling, your breathing becomes rapid and shallow. I turn around… nothing but the dark. I look around, the world is sleeping. I cannot shake this feeling, I’m being watched. I get into my house that I was renting; it is still. The feeling didn’t go away, I just wanted to sleep, I didn’t shower, I didn’t make a sound. I went straight to bed.

Lying down in my bed, I couldn’t sleep at all. I’m looking around my small room. The window is closed, and the blinds are shut but I cannot shake the feeling that someone is watching me!

Finally, I give in, and drift off.

The next morning comes rapidly, it was as if I just blinked, and it was day already. I had to get to work as soon as I could, I did my best to not think about what I saw last night. After a quick shower, shit, and shave I am out the door. The downhill is coming, and I eagerly look around to see if anything was left behind from last night, I cannot believe that it was all gone, almost as if it never happened. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I didn’t find small pieces of plastic and glass that has been scooted near the roads edge. The smell was gone.

Getting to work my Boss knew something was on my mind (since I have not come up with his name lets just call him Boss for now, but since he does play a massive role in this story as well as my mentor Boss will come back) I tell him about what I had saw last night, Boss looks at me in a serious fashion.

He tells me…

“Thudd, that was the smell of death. Officers use the white sheets to cover up dead bodies”.

I remember how many of them I had seen, most importantly I remember seeing the small ones, ones that looked like they were meant for a child. Then… the stink came back, the smell of iron and chemicals branded into my subconscious. I could taste it.

For the sake of this one off I will skip a few days.

My coworker comes in to work excitedly showing me her phone. She remembers the story I had told her and, since she lived near the area at the time, on her phone is an article of a hit and run that had occurred in the late night hours not to long ago, on the street I had used to get home. The family that was hit were all killed, with some of their bodies being ejected from the vehicle. There were two children in the car.

It comes back, the smell, the taste.

I had ridden my bike through the scene of a deadly hit and run right as the cleanup was happening. I never told anyone until this post about the feeling of being watched, how it followed me into my house, how it stopped when I woke up. You (the reader) are the only ones who know.

The stink has never left me, even to this day as I sit here typing this story... I can smell it, I can taste it.

Chemicals and Iron.

Chemicals and Iron.

CHEMICALS AND IRON!

- Thudd Walker.