Hey everybody, I just thought I’d share this story due to something I read in the news recently. This really has been tormenting me all of my life and I feel the need to share it with you now.
It was 1971. My family always has a huge Thanksgiving feast where we literally invite every possible person on my side of the family as well as my wife’s side. So, as you can guess, we need tons of food. We actually have a second refrigerator down in the basement to store it all! Anyway, the day before Thanksgiving the wife asked me to run down to the store and pick up some things. I needed to pick up a bunch of Reuben ingredients because, last minute, the wife decided she wanted to serve sandwiches for lunch. This was late in the day, mind you, and the market was packed wall-to-wall with people who were there for the exact same reason I was. Long story short, I got the food, and got back in my old ’66 Ford pickup to bring it all back to my lady.
I live a little ways out of Vancouver, Washington, kind of in the backwoods. It’s a quiet place to live and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But there’s a series of backroads I have to take to get back there. It was getting pretty late, and there weren’t a whole lot of cars out on the road. I was used to it. Around eight thirty, I noticed a man on the side of the road with his thumb out.
“Some bum hitchhiker,” I thought to myself. I saw hitchhikers all the time around here, but I never picked anyone up. But as I got close to him, I noticed he was holding his right hand over his right eye, and there was a stream of blood running down it. I immediately pulled the car over to see what the hell was wrong with him. He looked pretty tattered up, like he had been out there for days. He was putting a lot of weight on his right leg, as if something was wrong with his left one. He was dressed in a rather nice suit, (although it was all tore up) nice pants, and nice shoes. He seemed extremely calm, almost unaware that he was bleeding out of his right eye. Other than that, I couldn’t make out much about him in the dark. He was holding some kind of knapsack in this left hand. I pulled close and rolled the window down.
“You alright partner?” I asked.
“I need you to take me away from here, please. I’ll pay for whatever gas you burn.” he replied.
“Well, I’m heading home now, I just picked up a bunch of Thanksgiving food and need to take it back. You’re welcome to join me, we can get you patched up, too. Please come with me sir, you don’t look well.” I stated.
The man looked all around him.
“I can’t stay anywhere. I’ll tell you where to go. I’ll pay you.” he said again.
“Well, that’s nice sir, but I have to get home, and you don’t look well. You need help.” I replied.
“Listen, sir,” he started. He reached for the knapsack, uncovering his eye.
Or, where his eye was. All that was left was a gaping bloody hole that was still dripping with deep red blood.
"Holy...sh...sh..." I stammered. I felt sick to my stomach.
“Sir, please calm down. I can offer you full assurance that I am alright. Please, look here.” he stammered. He limped over to my truck and held up the open knapsack to my window. Inside were many stacks of twenty-dollar bills, all neatly organized.
“If you take me where I need to go, I’ll give you one thousand dollars cash.” he said.
My mind raced. Who the hell was this guy? Where did he get all of that money? If I let him in, would he hurt me? But, I realised that a man in his shape probably wasn’t interested in hurting me. He seemed more concerned about his money and getting away from where he was now than beating up some poor nobody.
“Sir, please. There are men looking for me and I need to leave this area immediately.” he said.
“Alright, get in.” I told him. The man breathed a huge sigh of relief and entered my truck, placing the knapsack on his lap.
“Sir, there are no words to describe how much I am thankful for what you are doing. Now please, listen to me. I need you to drive me into the town of Ariel. You know where that is, right?” he asked.
“Well, it’s a little out of the way, but yes.” I replied.
“Good. When we get there, I need you to drop me off at a particular location. It won’t seem like there’s anything there, but I need to be there very soon. Can you do that?” he said.
All the while, with his entire right eye missing, he seemed to have an almost otherworldly level of calmness to him. He wasn’t scared, he didn’t seem to be in pain, his expression was just, blank.
I pulled back into the road and began to drive.
“Please go exactly the speed limit,” the man said, when he noticed I was going five over.
“Alright,” I replied. “You know my wife is going to kill me for this, right?”
“Then I’ll give you an extra five hundred to give to her. You know women, you give them money and they’ll forgive anything.” he said.
I found the statement to be a little sexist, but I didn’t question him. We just kept driving. He simply remained silent the entire time. I ignored him the best I could. Sure, I was helping a poor man in need, but something just felt....menacing...about him.
“It should be around five minutes now,” he suddenly said. I jumped a little in my seat.
“Don’t scare me like that!” I exclaimed.
“Apologies,” he said, bowing his head slightly.
“Don’t worry about it. But, that eye of yours, you need to get to a hospital. I know one around here, oh, please, let me turn around and get you help!” I stammered.
The man suddenly turned around to face me. In the same monotone voice, he said:
“Sir, please do not take me to a hospital. If you do, they will find me and take me away. And when I get out, I will make you wish you never stopped to pick me up. And you will not be able to run from me. I never forget a face, and I have my ways of finding faces.”
After he stated that, he turned around to face forward again.
“Shouldn’t be much longer now.” he said.
Now I was scared. This man had just threatened me. Should I dump him here and tell him to walk to where he needed to go? All these thoughts were pushed back by the simple fact that this man was now dangerous to me. And I know not to piss off dangerous individuals.
Right about four minutes later we began to drive into the town.
“Do you see the black Chevy Impala sitting on the left side of the road?” the man asked.
I looked out. Sure enough, there it was. A black Impala just sitting there under a big pine tree. There was someone in the driver’s seat, but I couldn’t make them out. I stopped right in front of it.
“Thank you sir. There are no words to describe how thankful I am. I apologise for threating you in the manner that I did, however, I am not supposed to be in this year and I cannot stay any longer. I would have been no harm to you, even if I was taken away. Thank you.” the man said. He reached into the knapsack and quickly counted out fifteen stacks of twenties and handed them to me.
“One thousand and five hundred United States Dollars. Don’t forget to give the extra five hundred to the missis, now.” he said. For the first time, he smiled. He then turned, and exited my car. He ran up to the Impala, and seated himself in the passenger seat. The driver started up the car, and began to drive into town, without the headlights on. He eventually turned down a side street.
I blinked. What the hell had happened? How could a person be missing his entire eye and seem unfazed about it? And what did he mean by “not supposed to be in this year”? All things I pondered on the way back home. When I got back, I told came in and told my wife that there had been an extra-long line at the market. She believed me, and hey, I got fifteen hundred bucks, which I promptly put away in the bank a couple days after Thanksgiving.
Because of all of my family being there, I didn’t get any time to watch TV or read the paper. But after everyone left, I began to catch myself up to the news.
On the front page of the paper was an article saying how somebody hijacked an airplane that came out of Seattle, then bailed out of the back of the plane with two hundred thousand dollars cash somewhere near Ariel.
Of course I told the police.
After a while, Mr. D. B. Cooper, as they called him, more or less faded into memory. Sure, they still talked about him from time to time, and hell, they even found some of the ransom money. They could never track down the money I gave to my bank, I heard it all got handed out within a few days. God knows where those bills are now.
A few days ago, I read an interesting article saying the FBI had finally closed the case on D. B. Cooper. I guess they’ll never find him, but I sure found him alright. I only hope the son of a bitch is happy now.
Submitted July 16, 2016 at 04:35AM by mamaluigi2016 http://ift.tt/29ZCuPc nosleep
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