Escort Service
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 Jon Beight
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 Jon Beight
Escort Service
by Jon Beight  FollowFollow
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Jon Beight lives, works, and plays in Western New York. He would much rather fish, ride his Harley, or play baseball, than do chores. His fiction...read more and photography can be found in The Tishman Review, Literally Stories, Typehouse Magazine, Fabula Argentea, and other fine magazines.
Escort Service
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Escort Service

Steve tries to piece together how it happened. Late for a date. Speeding. A bend in the road. A deer. A swerve. A tree. A gasp. Silence.

He swears it feels like it occurred a week ago, and he can’t remember how he got to the curb. There is no blood on him and he doesn’t feel injured, but his car is another story. It’s now something unrecognizable, wrapped around a tree that doesn't seem to be any worse for the wear. A light breeze wafts the smells of steam, gasoline, and smoke into his lungs and he chokes.

A car pulls up and stops. The headlights shine so bright he can’t make out what sort of vehicle it might be. The engine is humming quietly and a car door opens. Hard soles crunch gravel as the footsteps approach. A female voice speaks, "Are you alright? Do you need help?"

Steve tries to shield his eyes from the lights to see who owns the voice, but to no avail. "I'm fine I think. A fucking deer ran in front of me.” Then after feeling his pockets, “I can't find my phone. Can I use yours to call my date?"

"Sorry, I don't have one. Were you in a hurry or something?"

He tries to construct a face and body that matches her voice. Blonde, shoulder length hair, parted in the middle. Blue…no green eyes, nicely carved nose, thin lips. Sort of Peggy Lipton-ish cheeks. Thin body with tight patent leather pants. He notices the fragrance of her perfume mixes well with the fumes coming from his car. He leans into it and takes it in.

"I had a date with a girl I met last week and I was running late."

“You must like the girl if you’re thinking about her after this.”

“Not really. Something to do on a Saturday night. Does it matter?”

“Not to me. Does she know that’s what you think?

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe she should. You know, Steve, I’d say your car is a total. Do you have insurance?”

“No. I let it lapse.”

“That wasn’t too smart. So how will you get to work?”

Steve begins to think she is sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.

“I don’t exactly go to my job.”

“What is it you do then?”

He doesn’t understand it but he realizes that at this moment he is incapable of lying to this stranger.

“Well, if you must know, I’m a drug dealer. Whatever you want…”

“That’s a great waste of an education. Oh, that’s right. You quit school, didn’t you?”

“I can make more doing this than at any job an education can give me.”

“Easy money for someone’s misery, eh Steve. That’s how you play it?”

He can feel some anger beginning to boil.

“What’s it to you? That’s pretty much my business, and besides, who are you to pass judgement on me?”

“I’m not passing judgement. That’s already been done.”

He ponders that for a moment before thinking he’s heard enough. He gets up to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I don’t know. Away from you at least. I’m not so sure I like you and--. It just occurred to me, how do you know my name? Who the hell are you anyway?”

 “Let’s just say that I’m your escort and your ride and leave it at that.”

“An escort service?”

“Something like that.”

He hears the mechanical clicks of the car’s passenger door opening.

“Go ahead Steve. Get in.”

He stares at her silhouette, straining to get a look at her face, before finally giving up. He slowly makes his way to the car and climbs in.

She walks to the driver’s side and slides in behind the wheel.

There he finally gets a look at her and discovers she is exactly how he imagined her to be. He notices her perfume has changed to something that has more of an earthy, sulfurous aroma. He finds it intoxicating.

“Hey, why don’t you and I go out for some drinks and something to eat? Or we could go to my place and I--.”

"Um, you're not where you think you are. We should be going."

Steve looks at her and for a brief moment sees her eyes glow red. He thinks he should feel surprise or terror, but instead he feels calm. The car rapidly accelerates past the wreckage, now engulfed in fire, and they leave the scene impassively. A parade of emergency vehicles head the other way. He leaves his seat belt unbuckled, relaxes, and loses himself in her scent.

 

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