The Mover

Serial killers have always held a fascination for me. I watched all the movies, devoured the novels, and followed the news faithfully when reported. I have a horrid fascination for the Ted Bundys of the world. I have no desire to ever met one, yet they seem to pop up in my stories from time to time. Having given a massive spoiler in the introduction, I will stop here. I hope you enjoy my short story - The Mover.

It was a lovely move across three states. The weather cooperated, and the lady could not have been more pleasant. She paid all in cash. Rare these days. It was a shame she was number 73 moves.

The next four do not count. The next four do not count. Ten more didn't qualify. It will take forever to get to 73, but that is just part of the game. Miles’ Dad used to hit dogs while driving in his 73 Ford. He would beg his Dad to hit the people instead. His Dad just laughed and said that was not in the rules of the game.

The 73 Ford blew up one day with his Dad in it when he was eight. The police said it was a combination of bizarre things that started with a fuel system leak and a battery issue. Whatever the cause, his Dad was gone, and he was the man of the house now. He always loved that 73 Ford. He sometimes wondered if his old man would be proud of him for carrying on the family traditions in his way.

His Mom told him that coyotes were carrying off cats in the neighborhood, so he needed to shoot the coyotes. One cat. Two. Three. Fifty. Seventy-One. Seventy-two. Seventy-three. Bam. The gunshot echoed through the neighborhood. “Mom, I shot the coyote and threw him in the canyon.” He often wandered over to smile at the mound of cat carcasses he was slowly building. Coyotes made a worthwhile villain for missing cats, and the canyon contained hazardous waste. The locals avoided the place. Useless creatures. Not like dogs who blindly followed orders. As he grew older, though, shooting cats held less joy.

A couple wanted a move and did not qualify. It was amazing how many single women were moving across the country for work, online romance, or being closer to family or friends. Some just wanted to escape a dreary life. Seven. Twelve. Eighteen. He moved multiple families and a few single women. Twenty-three. Whew. Fifty-five. He was itching for his next 73, but he set the game's rules and followed them patiently. Seventy-one. Seventy-two. Seventy-three.

Finally! A cute little blonde hired him to move her apartment from New York to San Antonio. After the apartment was packed, she came and asked him why there was a large empty box left in the empty apartment. In a quick minute, an experienced mover had her taped up in the box and loaded on the truck. He smothered her somewhere in Kansas, and the box dropped off the truck on a deserted road in Oklahoma. Her remains quickly baked in the hot summer sun, and weeks passed before a random farmer saw the crumbled box in his field with a Jane Doe inside. Miles faithfully delivered all her belongings to San Antonio as scheduled. Her family realized she had never arrived and filed a missing report, but Jane Doe in Oklahoma did not match the missing person claim filed in New York. One. Three. Twelve. Twenty-five. Fifty. Seventy-two.

“Ma’am, do you need an experienced mover? I have hundreds of references.”