The Printer's Passenger

It's never been hard for me to find a stable job, but one that pays well or that's close by is usually a problem. I had recently been fired from "The Ink Well" which was a small print shop, I'm not sure if it's still open. Anyway, my wife was very concerned I wouldn't find a job. But I rested easy knowing I could find one in a day. There was no way I'd let my child go without food or toys and he had his eye on a Crash Bandicoot toy. I did find a job, it'd pay well too, but it was an hour and 15 minutes from home. It was to be my first day at West Camp Press and I was on the long stretch of road from Chillicothe to Columbus when I saw a man hitchhiking.

Let me back up. I don't know that he was hitchhiking. In fact, now, something makes me think I was hitchhiking. I know that sounds crazy. I had the car, I was driving, the lease on the Hyundai and the car insurance; I should have been giving him a ride. But when I think about him quietly getting into the car and not responding to my greeting, it makes me think HE was taking me somewhere. I didn't think I was in danger, well maybe initially. But a few minutes in, I realize that if he was a serial killer, he would have done the deed by now. I guessed he was a man, so down on his luck, that he had nothing to say. He was dressed in all black, he didn't look homeless, but he did have an unkempt beard. Glancing at his face, I realized he must have been middle eastern, but the kind of middle eastern that isn't immediately observable to white people if you know what I mean. Like Lebanese or something. I was content there for a while. And for a while, I mean that day.

Somewhere along the line, he got out. I can't remember how or where, but he did. I got to work, standard print job, good pay, long drive home, and I was happy. Although I had nagging thought about the man I let into my car. I'd like to play it off like I'm a kind guy, but that's not like me. When I got home, my son was playing with that new toy he wanted. My wife wasted no time getting it for him when she heard I got this job. She had somethin' for me as well.

I was driving to work the day after that, and there he was again, right were I picked him up the first day. I rolled down the window and asked how he got back down there. He got and rolled up the window, and I drove to work. Again, he left at some point and I was off my game at work, which was bad, I was trying to leave a good impression. All my coworkers looked at me with confusion. Confusion at my confusion. When I got home, I was still out of it. My wife didn't notice, but my son did. He said 'are you okay dad?' and I said I was fine. Seeing my son happy is very reassuring.

It was the third day and you can guess most of it. It came to break time at work and a friend I had made pulled me aside. I asked if I smelled like shit or if I was doing a bad job.

He said "naw naw, I think you're doin' fine. But I just wanted to talk to ya about a problem I've been havin'. See, I've been givin' this guy a lift everyday, a hitchhiker." He went on to explain an experience similar to what I'd been experiencing. He thought I was making fun of him when I first explained I'd been going through the same thing. When we enter the break room, we found out everyone in there without exception had been experiencing the same thing. All of the staff that worked in the printing room.

When we started working again, we tried to laugh it off, like it was just a tale we were all telling to spice up a standard work day. But things fell silent soon as we all knew the truth. It hadn't been like that before, he'd chat and rib each other, I'd take most of the ribbing as the new guy. But now, we were all unsure of what the future held. When we clocked out, we all said 'have a safe trip home' like that's what we were afraid of.

It was Friday and the fourth day the man hitchhiked with me. But this time, I stopped at a gas station before going into work. Not to refuel, or get a snack, not because the man told me to drop him off, I just kinda stopped there. The man got out, but not before telling me the only thing he ever said to me, "Your son will have a bright future." He shut the door calmly and I drove away, feeling like I had just been judged. When I got to work. I said what had happened. People started chiming in, saying the same thing happened to them. But my friend said "That's not what he told me." Later that day, I met the owner of the company, later that day, the owner fired my friend.