“I mean it, they are all going to die this time! DIE! DIE YOU BLASTED INSUFFERABLE LITTLE CHILDREN!” screamed Big Joe as blue-green glowin’ smoke streamed out of his eyes. I struggled to free myself from my seatbelt. Luckily, Little Joe had woken up and I expected he was fixin’ to use his mental-type powers to save the poor little retards.
“Stop this madness now, Big Joe! I will not allow you to do this!” shouted Little Joe into my mind. I assumed Big Joe was hearin’ it too, cause he was now lookin’ back all concerned-like at the space dog.
“You can’t stop me, Little Joe! I am in full control of this vehicle! I AM IN CONTROL!!” His trucker cap was hovering a full six inches above his head, a-glow and vibratin’ with ghost power.
“You look kinda outta control to me, bud,” I said, using my unique gift of humor to try and lighten up the situation. I find this works on occasion when dealing with a psycho.
It didn’t work this time.
“You want to find out about control, Red? I’ll show you CONTROL!” said Big Joe. He clenched his fist in the air in front of my face, and it felt like his hand was on my throat. I couldn’t breathe and my face felt real hot. I saw myself turning blue in the rear-view mirror.
“Any-time-you-want-to-go-ahead-and-stop-this-is-fine-with-me,” I gurgled out to Little Joe as my throat closed up real tight.
The kids was getting close now. I swore could hear ‘em singin’ a song about peanut butter, or else I was on the verge of faintin’ and I was just rememberin’ my own bus rides.
Then I noticed Little Joe had assumed one of them lotus positions you see in the karate pictures, or as close to it as you could get to in a dog body. He started glowing and rose above his seat a few inches. The truck started to shake, as Big Joe fought for control of his ghostly big rig against Little Joe’s powers.
“NO!” screamed Big Joe as he struggled with Little Joe’s mind over control of the steering wheel. “I will run over that bus! I will run…over…those…damned…kids,” he said as he slumped over the steering wheel, trembling, and the big Mack slowly pulled over to the right shoulder.
The short bus safely passed us goin’ the opposite direction, and I heard the little kids’ singin’ fade away. They was safe from this crazy phantom, thanks to Little Joe.
“Big Joe,” said Little Joe, “we have been over this before. It is your duty and your burden to haunt these highways until you have atoned for your crimes. All three hundred and nine of them. You know of what I speak.” Little Joe looked forcefully at the ghost-driver, who was kinda huddled up and, it kinda looked like he was sobbin’.
“Oh yeah?” said Big Joe. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it! You’ll hear from me again, Little One. You will! HAHAHAHA!” There was blue-green flash of firework-type deals, and with that, we went flyin’ from the cab, just like last time I rode with this nutcase.
“Dadgummit!” I said as I picked myself up from the ground. “You said no tricks this time!” I was in the process of shaking my fist at him when a dime hit me square in the forehead.
“Buy yourself a cup of joe on me!” he said. “And tell them Big Joe sent ya! HAHAHAHA!!”
The big Mack pulled away from the shoulder, and kind of disappeared into a greenish smoke. Suddenly, I could see some headlights comin' towards me.
“Not again, Big Joe! Get outta here, ya dadgum stinkin’ ghost driver! Ya hear me!” I shouted as I wandered to the middle of the road.
“Red!” shouted Little Joe into my mind. “That’s not our friend Big Joe. It’s the ranchers coming to check on their goats, and probably wondering what caused the blazing inferno. If they find you, they will throw you in jail. Quick, jump in the ditch!”
I did what he said and jumped in the ditch. As I hunkered down, Little Joe crouched down beside me. A mess of pickup trucks, Sheriff’s cruisers, and volunteer fire trucks sped past us on the way to the old shack. I expected they would be giving me chase once they got a load of the damage I caused.
“Red, you did good work tonight, but I’m afraid you’ve caused quite a bit more destruction than the ranchers were expecting. You’ll have to leave these parts for awhile, until the heat dies down a bit.”
“But what about my special big rig? Am I a Protector now?” I asked, fearing my dream was about to be snatched away.
“Red, you passed the test, but not quite how we were expecting. It will take time for the Council to evaluate your status – you showed us things tonight that baffled, appalled, and, well, exhilarated us – to an equal degree. We honestly don’t quite know what to do with a man of your unique… abilities.”
I took that as a compliment. That’s pretty much what everybody’s been telling me for years, except with fewer big-type words.
“Uh, okay. What do I do now?” I asked.
“Your first priority is to leave this place. We have arranged for transportation to a new location. I’d advise you to lay low there for awhile, until we can contact you with further instructions. Now sleep, sleep Red, until another day…”
His eyes turned back into them spinning vortex-type dealies and I felt myself falling, falling down into a deep sleep. Hopefully, when I woke up, I would be far from Oklahoma.
Hopefully, they’ll be plenty of chorizo and eggs there too.
Little Rosa, Lotsa Trouble -- Part 1
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