High Time It Is Done.
Just as expected, everyone was being "overly dramatic" as Simon described their excessive act of concern. The church directed all focus and interest on Simon and Jessica.
Indeed, it was a miracle for them to survive such an accident. Simon was specially praised for his courage and bravery, it wasn't an easy feat he had just pulled. It was a splendid act of bravery and love. Not everyone would be willing to take such a crash for another person, he was commended for that and it was also sermonised.
Much attention was given to Simon. The huge wound he bore on his back was not invisible. It was a terrible sight to behold. Everyone who caught sight of it would shriek in horror. Bloodied and quite deep, a lot of skin was lost due to the collision from the coal tarred road and his back at ominous speed. It was still very unbelievable and puzzling that he wasn't feeling any pain. His mother, Jeanette, was troubled about her son's wellbeing. Jessica was left with not a single scratch, much concern but for the shock, Yes. They were all glad that she was safe in one piece but Simon, he was badly injured.
Steve, Simon's father, a young man in his early forties, quite tall and hunky. Simon must have gotten his tall and hunky stature from his Dad. He was a blonde with a light blue eyes. He sure was a fine man. He pulled up the sleeves of his white T-shirt. He wore a brown monkey jacket and a grey striped tie to complement the T-shirt. His fine pair of neatly pressed plain black trouser was a match with the smartly polished black Grenson he wore on his feet.
They both sat on a long bench with Simon facing the door and Steve behind him tending to his injury. He had already taken Simon to the church's cellar, away from the crowd to get his injury dressed. He was tending to Simon's injury with the church's first aid kit. He had pulled off the blue T-shirt Simon wore, which was already stained with blood, cleaned up the injured area.
Simon wasn't wincing in pain, it was very unusual. Could it be that Simon had the rare disorder of not feeling pain? Congenital insensitivity to pain? Just no, Simon is sensitive to pain but Steve didn't seem very surprised, he was just puzzled. It seems as if there was something else disturbing him. What more could be greater than his injured son?
"Does it hurt?" His very deep voice echoed in the old cellar. He paused his movement awaiting Simon's response before he proceeds any further.
"No Dad." He responded. His voice very strong and vibrant. He wasn't in pain at all.
"Not even a pinch?" Steve asked. Simon tried lifting his back to turn to his father.
"No don't! You'd hurt yourself son!" Steve quickly held onto Simon's shoulders to stop his movement. It was an involuntary act. He had just heard his son say he doesn't feel a ting but he based his act on what ifs.
"You'd be fine son, in no time you'd be healed." Steve continued with the first aid treatment.
"Thanks Dad." Simon didn't find the whole situation overwhelming. The overwhelming moment had already passed. Seems like everyone still finds the whole situation overwhelming.
Steve tried hard to keep a calm emotionless face. He was trying to act all cool and express less but deep down he was fighting with himself, he felt it was his fault.
Just if he brought everyone along when he left very early this morning, this wouldn't have happened. He was troubled and distressed, he kept berating himself internally. He felt he wasn't performing the fatherly duty very perfectly. He was being too uneasy and Simon began to sense it. His tough looks had already turned to a worried frown.
"Thank you!" A gentle pat fell on his shoulders which jounced him from pondering deep. He turned to see who it was, it was Fr. Nicholas. He was on a black tab collar shirt tucked in a black jean and a dark tan Clarks. He should be around his mid forties. He has a vibrant looking face. His blonde hair had a brushed up Taper cut. His beards was neatly cut just around his jaw. He was a good looking man for his age. He was calm, intuitive and never lost his cool. A very supportive friend to all.
Fr. Nicholas stood at the entrance of the cellar observing them. Though Simon's face was downwards, he had already seen Fr. Nicholas from his shoe.
Slightly, he raised his head and smiled at Fr. Nicholas. He returned a smile as he walked pass him to his father. He observed that Steve was spacing out. He left his right hand on his shoulder as he stood elegantly before him.
On seeing Fr. Nicholas, Steve got a little relieved from his worries.
"How's it going?" Fr. Nicholas' gentle voice rang into their ears. Fr. Nicholas took few steps back, folded his arms around clearly scrutinising the whole situation with his blue eyes. He was quick to observe. It was just the bandages that was left for Steve to be done.
"All cleaned up." He responded as he unrolled the bandages.
"Let me take it from here, I'd continue from here." He stretched forth his hands, gesturing Steve to hand over the bandage.
"Yeah, sure. I'd see to Jeanette now. Thank you Father." He stood, handed over the bandage, took off his monkey jacket and went for the door.
Fr. Nicholas bent over to Simon and began wrapping his back with the bandages. He was tender and calm while doing it. He wore a smile on his face. It was a natural. Simon was quiet all this while, it seemed he was trying to say something to break the oddly quiet room.
"Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. still don't feel pain?" His gentle voice broke the silence.
"No." Simon immediately answered. Simon was baffled by his words. He was struggling to understand the context of his words in this present situation. Did he make a mistake by saving Jessica? Should he have left her for the ghost truck? He thought to himself.
'Ahaa! The ghost truck.' He still hadn't told anyone about that. It's very unbelievable even to him but he was certain that no one was there. He saw it very vividly. Fortunately, he was on his glasses when he looked into the truck. He would have doubted his vision if he saw off glasses that very period. But no, he saw clearly that no one was there.
"Do you happen to know how..." he paused so as to recollect his words to make sure he wasn't sounding insane. His incomplete question no had already piqued Fr. Nicholas' interest.
"Go on son. What were you going to say?" His gentle voice was so placid and composed. It was luring. He didn't stop what he was doing, he continued bandaging Simon. He gestured Simon to turn towards him so as he could get what he was doing very well.
"The truck had no driver." He spat these words quickly and very snappy. Knowing Fr. Nicholas was an intuitive person, he was not sure how Fr. Nicholas would take it.
Fr. Nicholas laughed very softly, both his statement and how he passed it was very funny. He stopped what he was doing to laugh.
"I'm sorry son, what a joke." Fr. Nicholas answered to what Simon had just said as got back to tying him up.
Just as Simon had thought, it was very unbelievable. He sighed in exasperation and decided to give up on it. Fr. Nicholas wasn't asking any further questions. It appeared he wasn't really interested in the conversation. He kept his cool.
"All done now." Fr. Nicholas was done with wounding him up in bandages. He proceeded to packing up the kit.
"Thank you Fr." Simon said to him as he stood up. He took a proper look at himself. It was very discomforting for him but he had to be on bandages.
Fr. Nicholas replied with a "Mmhm." He stood up from where he sat to place the first aid kit where it belonged.
"Do you happen to know why and what a 16-wheeler truck would be doing in town. It's a little town though." Simon asked another snappy question.
Fr. Nicholas paused in his motion, looked up to Simon and replied.
"No, I don't. I am also curious to know why!" He paused and observed Simon's face for a little bit.
"What was the driver like and do you remember it's plate number?" Fr. Nicholas asked ignoring Simon's very first statement about a ghost driver.
Simon gave him a face that expressed, 'Seriously Father?' accompanied by a frustrated sigh as well.
"No one was driving the truck. I know it's very unbelievable and sound very insane to say but.. that's basically what it was Father and about the plate number, It didn't occur to me go check. I doubt if it had too!" Simon was clearly trying to prove a point. He wasn't sure if Fr. Nicholas would believe him. He was the only person whom he thought would understand this. It was really hampering that he wasn't getting him.
"Hmm. I see!" Fr. Nicholas took a thinking stance with his hands beneath his jaw. He began thinking on the possibilities of such occurrence. Well Simon wouldn't be making such things up.
"I'd look more into this. Glad you're alright. Here!" He stretched forth his right hand, handed him the monkey jacket Steve had left him to wear. Simon kindly took the jacket from him.
"About your transfer to the city..."
"I still have the whole week before I report to the city. I'm still here." He cut Simon very quickly with a soft chuckle.
"I won't be far!" Fr. Nicholas added.
He joined in the chuckle, it was a relieving statement though but that wasn't all he wanted to say.
"I'd love to visit you in the city." He continued with a smile on his face.
The very cheerful face of Fr. Nicholas was now replaced with a black look. It was clear, Fr. Nicholas wasn't cool with that idea. His face was arid of cheerfulness and happiness.
Simon was confused with the outcome of things. He cross checked his statement in his head to make sure he didn't say a mistake or anything to trigger Fr. Nicholas.
It was very rare to see Fr. Nicholas on furrowed brows. The first and last time he remembered seeing Fr. Nicholas on a black look was when Simon was very little and he asked to join his mum to the city. Everyone shunned him for asking that. He felt he was still a little child and wasn't old enough to go to the city then. They all warned him never to step a foot in the city. They made him feel the city was a very dangerous place. He listened. Such an obedient child is. But right now, he doesn't understand the gloom on fr. Nicholas' face. He's 17 years old, soon to be 18 in few days.
"Did I say something offensive, Father?" He politely asked. What he said can't be the reason for such a black look.
"No. You didn't. Your mum must be worried about you. Why don't we go and meet her." He said in a very gentle tone with a feigned smile. He led the way as he walked out of the cellar. That wasn't enough for Simon. Well, he joined him out of the cellar.
They got up to the church, no one had left. Everyone was waiting to see Simon to make sure he was okay. They were so lovely, kind and tender-hearted. A community anyone would wish to be a member.
Fr. Nicholas had gestured for Steve to join him. They both walked out of the church to have a quick conversation. Simon was observing them before they left, the aura they gave off wasn't a very nice one. It wasn't the usuals. They were tensed and anxious. He couldn't just stand up to join them. No one called him in the first place and right now, he was the centre of attraction in the church. He really wanted to know what the problem was. It was nearly impossible for him to wade the congregation away.
"This is very serious. All thanks to God he wasn't intercepted." Fr. Nicholas broke the silence.
They were walking where Fr. Nicholas' car was parked, not far from the main church building.
"Intercept?" Steve asked out of curiosity to know the context of the word 'intercept.'
Fr. Nicholas paused in his pace and turned towards Steve. Steve halted too, his face was so relaxed and all calm. There wasn't any expression of worry on his face. His voice earlier was what gave him out.
"He mentioned a ghost driver." Fr. Nicholas' uneasy voice broke gently. Steve's eyes widen on hearing this. A worried look began creeping on his calm face, the worried face deepened. That was the least news he ever expected.
"A ghost driver?" Fear could be heard from Steve's voice. Could it be they had a clue on what's going on.
"Could it be..." Fr. Nicholas grabbed him by the shoulder to cut him short. Steve was very scared. His voice was very shaky and unstable.
"She spoke of this day, she mentioned she was growing weak." Fr. Nicholas said in an encouraging tone. Steve lifted his eyes, they came in contact with Fr. Nicholas'. Fr. Nicholas' eyes were filed with hope and positivity. Steve's eyes were the very opposite. It seemed like he was reassuring Steve with these words. He tapped him twice on his back and continued in his pace towards. Steve was still rooted unmoving and anxious. He was lost in thought.
"Does she needs extra hands?" He spoke in a hurry. He had his resolve. Seemed like he had found a solution.
"That, I don't know." Fr. Nicholas grabbed onto the handle of his door. He pulled the door and settled in the car.
"What do we do now?" Steve asked curiously. He wanted to know what Fr. Nicholas was up to. He was sure Fr. Nicholas already had a planned mapped out.
"I'd be leaving the town now, I'm going to see her." He replied with another reassuring look.
"To see who?" Simon's voice startled them. Simon had managed to avert the crowd and direct their attention to Jessica. He had left the church building not long after they had left.
He stood with a questioning eyes just few meters away from Fr. Nicholas' car. He felt the sudden change in atmosphere between. It wasn't a welcoming one. It lurked with secrets and mysteries. He took few steps to approach them.
Fortunately for Steve, he has himself composed, it would have been way worse of Simon had walked in on him in that trembling state. 'How much did he hear?' They weren't expecting anyone to follow them out. He left Fr. Nicholas and began walking towards Simon.
He was quick to speak to avoid any further pry into their conversation.
"Come, tell me about this ghost driver." He took Simon by the shoulder giving Fr. Nicholas enough space to drive out to prevent Simon from meeting him. Any further time wasted would result to more questions, Fr. Nicholas quickly drove off.
"What's going on, Where's he going to?" Simon asked ignoring his father's question. He was really keen on knowing what his father and Fr. Nicholas were up to.
"The city. He wants to make some investigations about the ghost truck. It can only be from the city. Hmm." He gave him a cheerful smile to get his mind away from it. He was avoiding lies. He didn't lie anyways, he was just painting the truth in another way.
"Now why don't you tell me what you remember from the ghost truck. Yeah? What do you say?" He asked again. His son, Simon was a very curious person. He knew his answers weren't satisfactory to Simon but he was avoiding speaking of who they were talking about.
"Alright." He sighed as they walked back into the church to join everyone.
******
Fr. Nicholas was going at a very high speed. The road was bleak, unfrequented and wide. From the road, it was obvious that it rarely had passers by. The trees by the right were systematically planted, one after each, abundantly green and full of foliage, indicating health and vitality. It was a beautiful sight to gawp at. By the left was a majestic mountainous terrain standing silently, glaring down at the road with admiration.
The Devil Went Down To Georgia by The Charlie Daniels Band was playing over the radio. The radio, which had been playing music moments before, suddenly began to crackle and hiss. The music was distorted and warped, as if something was interfering with the signal. Then, the radio began to emit an eerie, high-pitched screech that could make your skin crawl. As the noise grew louder and more intense, it felt like the car was growing darker and colder, and the Fr. Nicholas was on the edge of feeling a sense of dread.
He tried tuning the radio to get a better signal. All stations were making high-pitched disturbing screech. He turned off the radio for some peace and quiet.
Just as he took his hands off the tuner, the radio turned back on this time the screeching sound was louder and loudening.
As the screeching sound reached its peak, a deep, raspy voice suddenly emanated from the radio, sending chills down the Fr. Nicholas' spine.
"We are coming for him." The voice whispered, its tone sinister and full of malice. Fr. Nicholas' heart pounded in his chest as he backed away from the radio, a sense of terror gripped him. He knew that whatever was coming, it wasn't good.