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Trust & Will to Live
#WritcoStoryPrompt40
The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an airplane... with what felt like the worst hangover. Not remembering much, but he knew he wasn't drinking. Repeatedly swallowing wasn't helping. He turned his head hard to the right, so not to choke. Argh. Disgusting taste. Horrible smell filled his death trap. Repulsively, it pooled around his neck. At least he didn't drown in it.
Don't panic. I'll just suck up oxygen, he thought. Focus on breathing. He was slightly relieved that some air, along with a sliver of light, slipped through the thin crack under the poorly, fitted lid of a crudely made coffin. He tried pushing but barely had room from elbow up. Two hinges separated him from escape. Think Dan, think. His coat with his cell phone were both gone. He felt his front, left pants pocket. His keys were also gone.
He remembered leaving the office early feeling strange, like the onset of a migraine. The kind he regularly experienced back in college. Last he remembered, he was walking through the parking garage. He saw his car; clicked the unlock button. Everything went black after that.
He could feel his wallet under him, still in his pocket. What, they only wanted my BMW? Right, then why am I in here? Who could I have have pissed off so badly? Ok, focus. I got to get out. My penknife! He felt his right front pocket. It was gone. Now he was pissed. His wife gave that to him.
Anger turned to panic at the thought of some one harming his family. He pushed again, barely letting in more light. What if they see or hear me? Obviously, I'm supposed to die here. Listening; nothing but the hum of the plane & occasional turbulence. Where could they be taking me?
Able to lift enough to pull his wallet from under him, he placed it in lap, pulling out a card. Driver license? Credit? Didn't matter. He slid it through the crack trying to separate the hinge. He swiped & pushed but the flimsy card couldn't seperate it. He tried pushing through a little farther & dropped it. Great. They'll know for sure I'm still alive when they find my 'calling card'. He grabbed another, repeating the same failed attempt.
Dan dug in his wallet. Why didn't I already think of it? It hadn't left its spot since placing it there two years earlier; the darkest time in his life, until now.
The yard worker walked him out back, warning, "It's not pretty. Just go in the office when you're done. Sheila will help ya."
Shocked, Dan couldn't believe this was his beautiful, Brazilian wife's car. She was on a ventilator, & in a coma. How did she survive at all? Thank God, their four year old son wasn't in there with her.
In the blood splattered interior, driver side floor, there lay her Crucifix among scattered Rosery beads that used to hang from her rearview mirror. His son's car seat was still intact, but jammed under the crushed rooftop with his favorite dinoscour laying in it. It didn't take Eli long to notice he'd forgotten it in mommy's car. Aline was on her way back to Dan's mother's house to drop it off, before leaving for a weekend in the Poconos to celebrate their fifth Anniversary.
Just before Eli was born, Dan's senior partner drew up a Will & Trust for them. Through deep conversations they both wanted the same thing. Neither wanted to be kept on life support should something happen...like this. He prayed that wasn't a decision he'd have to be making. Sadly, a month later; he respected her wishes, & said goodbye.
He retrieved the two items but didn't see her purse. Maybe it was in their office? One last glance before turning away.
Cigarette smoke, Subway sandwiches, gas, oil, body odor, & wet dog permeated the filthy waiting area. An 'out of order' sign taped over the coin entry of a beat up Coke machine set next to a couch that would swollow you alive if you dared, or was gross enough to sit on it.
A woman, who reminded him of Mimi from The Drew Carey Show, slid open a window with a blast of cheap perfume, equally offensive as the other odors. "Can I help you?" "Yes, that's my wife's Alfa Romeo out back. I was..." "Name?" she interrupted. "Aline Cogan. I was wondering if you might..." Slapping some papers down in front of him, "Here's the tow bill with current storage fees. They'll accumulate daily until paid & you pick up the vehicle. We'll be happy to tow it out for you, for additional fees, according to where you want it taken. If you wish to relinquish the vehicle to us, you'll only pay the tow fee. All storage fees will be waived," she said in a repetitively, robotic tone.
"No, I don't want the vehicle, but do you know if..." "Has your insurance company determined damages, sir?" "Yes, they said they already sent an agent out, but I..." "Oh, yes. Here's the release," she...
The noise was too loud, almost as if someone was using a drill machine in his head. He craned his head to relieve the cramp in his neck. When he couldn't move he realised where he was; in a coffin deep in the confines of an airplane... with what felt like the worst hangover. Not remembering much, but he knew he wasn't drinking. Repeatedly swallowing wasn't helping. He turned his head hard to the right, so not to choke. Argh. Disgusting taste. Horrible smell filled his death trap. Repulsively, it pooled around his neck. At least he didn't drown in it.
Don't panic. I'll just suck up oxygen, he thought. Focus on breathing. He was slightly relieved that some air, along with a sliver of light, slipped through the thin crack under the poorly, fitted lid of a crudely made coffin. He tried pushing but barely had room from elbow up. Two hinges separated him from escape. Think Dan, think. His coat with his cell phone were both gone. He felt his front, left pants pocket. His keys were also gone.
He remembered leaving the office early feeling strange, like the onset of a migraine. The kind he regularly experienced back in college. Last he remembered, he was walking through the parking garage. He saw his car; clicked the unlock button. Everything went black after that.
He could feel his wallet under him, still in his pocket. What, they only wanted my BMW? Right, then why am I in here? Who could I have have pissed off so badly? Ok, focus. I got to get out. My penknife! He felt his right front pocket. It was gone. Now he was pissed. His wife gave that to him.
Anger turned to panic at the thought of some one harming his family. He pushed again, barely letting in more light. What if they see or hear me? Obviously, I'm supposed to die here. Listening; nothing but the hum of the plane & occasional turbulence. Where could they be taking me?
Able to lift enough to pull his wallet from under him, he placed it in lap, pulling out a card. Driver license? Credit? Didn't matter. He slid it through the crack trying to separate the hinge. He swiped & pushed but the flimsy card couldn't seperate it. He tried pushing through a little farther & dropped it. Great. They'll know for sure I'm still alive when they find my 'calling card'. He grabbed another, repeating the same failed attempt.
Dan dug in his wallet. Why didn't I already think of it? It hadn't left its spot since placing it there two years earlier; the darkest time in his life, until now.
The yard worker walked him out back, warning, "It's not pretty. Just go in the office when you're done. Sheila will help ya."
Shocked, Dan couldn't believe this was his beautiful, Brazilian wife's car. She was on a ventilator, & in a coma. How did she survive at all? Thank God, their four year old son wasn't in there with her.
In the blood splattered interior, driver side floor, there lay her Crucifix among scattered Rosery beads that used to hang from her rearview mirror. His son's car seat was still intact, but jammed under the crushed rooftop with his favorite dinoscour laying in it. It didn't take Eli long to notice he'd forgotten it in mommy's car. Aline was on her way back to Dan's mother's house to drop it off, before leaving for a weekend in the Poconos to celebrate their fifth Anniversary.
Just before Eli was born, Dan's senior partner drew up a Will & Trust for them. Through deep conversations they both wanted the same thing. Neither wanted to be kept on life support should something happen...like this. He prayed that wasn't a decision he'd have to be making. Sadly, a month later; he respected her wishes, & said goodbye.
He retrieved the two items but didn't see her purse. Maybe it was in their office? One last glance before turning away.
Cigarette smoke, Subway sandwiches, gas, oil, body odor, & wet dog permeated the filthy waiting area. An 'out of order' sign taped over the coin entry of a beat up Coke machine set next to a couch that would swollow you alive if you dared, or was gross enough to sit on it.
A woman, who reminded him of Mimi from The Drew Carey Show, slid open a window with a blast of cheap perfume, equally offensive as the other odors. "Can I help you?" "Yes, that's my wife's Alfa Romeo out back. I was..." "Name?" she interrupted. "Aline Cogan. I was wondering if you might..." Slapping some papers down in front of him, "Here's the tow bill with current storage fees. They'll accumulate daily until paid & you pick up the vehicle. We'll be happy to tow it out for you, for additional fees, according to where you want it taken. If you wish to relinquish the vehicle to us, you'll only pay the tow fee. All storage fees will be waived," she said in a repetitively, robotic tone.
"No, I don't want the vehicle, but do you know if..." "Has your insurance company determined damages, sir?" "Yes, they said they already sent an agent out, but I..." "Oh, yes. Here's the release," she...
