Better Off Quiet

The inside of the car smelled like an old gym sock, and the dingy yellow headlights were no match for the ink-black night.

Greg wondered how the man behind the wheel could even see the road. But at least it was a ride.

“It’s really dark tonight!” Greg said. The stranger hadn’t said a word since he picked Greg up on the side of the road.

“Uh-huh,” the driver grunted.

Greg fidgeted in his seat. One of the springs popped into his back.

The silence was making him nervous. Then he remembered something.

“Say,” Greg said. “Seeing as how it’s Halloween, let’s tell ghost stories to pass the time. What say?”

“Really?” the driver asked.

“Sure, it’s the perfect night.” Greg was relieved the man could talk.

“OK if I go first? I have a real doozy,” the driver said.

“No problem,” Greg said.

“You sure you can handle it?”

“Try me.”

“Alright, then,” the driver said. “It happened on a night so dark you couldn’t see two feet in front of your face, on a road so isolated no one could hear you scream.”

Then he paused. Greg waited.

After a minute or so, Greg said, “Are you going to finish the story?”.

Silence.

“Hello?” Greg prodded.

But the man didn’t answer.

“Listen, if you don’t know a story, I can go first,” Greg said.

Still nothing.

Greg squinted across the bench seat toward the driver, but it was like trying to look through a can of motor oil.

Finally, Greg fumbled overhead with his fingers and switched on the domelight. It was as bright as a birthday candle. It was enough.

The driver’s seat was empty, but the steering wheel rocked gently back and forth. The car accelerated into the night as Greg screamed.

No one heard him.