Oscar Friedman's Freakish Occurrence - Part 11 by Dellani

Oscar intends to return the car to the rental company, but it has other ideas. Trapping him inside, the car takes off, evading police and leaving chaos in its wake. Oscar gets a call from Don, but has a hard time making him believe that the car really is possessed. He manages to free himself enough to get to the trunk.

"What are you doing, Oscar?"

"Nothing. Ignore me."

"You're doing something naughty, aren't you? Like you did with Jasmine last night?"

"How's that any of your business, honey? You don't even like me."

"You broke my heart," the GPS said plaintively.

"How did I do that?"

"You wanted to trade me in."

"You went nuts on me!"

"I didn't want to be ignored! Then you took up with her!"

"Jealousy is an ugly emotion," Oscar said casually. "Especially in a woman your size."

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I'm saying you're a beast, a behemoth! You are the Mount Everest of fat! You make beached whales look small. In fact," he continued, warming to his subject as his hands closed around the tire iron. "You make wooly mammoths look like cats."

Grunting, he sat up with the tire iron behind his back. Scooting forward, he raised the seat once more, positioning himself so he had the best leverage possible.

"I might go so far as to say, that they could put you on Mount Rushmore, but you'd dwarf the presidents with your ass!" He swung the tire iron at the GPS control panel. The glass cracked but didn't break.

"What are you doing?" Did he detect a note of panic?

"Something I should have done the first day when you took an hour to get to my hotel."

Whack! The glass cracked more, spider webbing across the panel.

"I did that because I love you!"

"We just met. How can you love me?"

Whack! Pieces of the console scattered on the carpet.

"Stop that right now, Oscar." The GPS spoke sternly, her voice warbling slightly as he continued slamming the tire iron into the panel.

With a satisfying crunch, it broke and the lights on the GPS dimmed. The car continued down the deserted two lane road. Oscar hit another portion of the computerized panel, hoping to do enough damage to stop the car. It shuddered, but continued at the same breakneck speed.

Flying down the road, he passed a deputy sheriff who was writing out a ticket for an old farm truck. Tossing his pad aside, the deputy ran to his car, hitting the lights and siren as he pursued Oscar's Prius.

"Why are you doing this, Oscar?" The voice was warped, slurring its speech.

His only answer was to hit the gear shift with the tire iron as he slammed on the brakes. Next, he grabbed the emergency brake, yanking sharply at it. This time, the car slowed, swinging in a crazy arc, sliding across the road and into the ditch on the side. Shuddering to halt, the motor still running, the car released the locks, flinging the door open.

Oscar knew it was the unspoken command to get out. On shaking legs, his left ankle threatening to drop him, he got out, still clutching the tire iron. Holding it in front of him like a shield, he hobbled away from the car.

The deputy pulled up in the middle of the road, jumping out with his gun drawn. "Put the weapon down," he commanded loudly.

"It's just the tire iron," Oscar explained, his hands held high. "I'm putting it down."

Once the metal bar hit the ground, the car slammed the door shut. Lights flickered, motor growled. Like an angry bull, the car snorted and smoked. Revving the engine, it sought a purchase on the damp grass. Tires spun, exhaust belched.

"What the hell?" The deputy stood beside Oscar, mouth hanging open.

"Shoot it!" Oscar yelled. "Shoot it now or it'll kill us both!"

"Who's driving?"

"The car. Dammit, give me that!"

Oscar grabbed the deputy's gun, shoving the other man aside as the Prius leaped forward. Squeezing the trigger, he prayed he killed the car before it hit him. He fired rapidly, emptying the clip into the car's grill. With a screaming howl, the hood burst open, smoke and steam spraying upward as the car shuddered and died. Dropping the weapon, Oscar collapsed against the squad car. The trooper grabbed his gun and walked over to the Prius.

"There's no one in here!"

Oscar nodded, shrugging. "Told you. The car.... Something went wrong...." The pain and stress caught up to him and he passed out.

Oscar woke up sometime later, the most delicious feeling of calm and comfort surrounding him. He felt as if he floated on a cloud. His eyes fluttered open slowly, one at a time.

"He's awake," he heard Jasmine's soft voice.

"Oscar?" It was Patrick.

The two of them hovered over him as he levitated. Pressure on his hand made him look down. Jasmine's fingers twined with his.

"Are you all right?" Her pretty face, lined with worry, made its way into his limited line of vision.

"Yeah." His throat was so dry, he could hardly speak.

A straw pressed against his lips and he drank water so cold it made him shiver.

"Thanks." He felt better after a few more sips. "Where...?" He was too groggy to finish the sentence.

"The deputy called for an ambulance," Jasmine said. "You're in the hospital. You broke your ankle."

"Car?"

"Irreparably damaged," Patrick told him gruffly. "Dammit, Oscar. What were you thinking?"

"Car—tried to kill me...."

"Nonsense, cars don't try to kill people."

"Ever see...." Oscar struggled to find the right word. "That Stephen King—about the car?"

"Christine?" Jasmine supplied.

"Yeah. Damn car was possessed. This was—another Christine."

"I've about heard everything," Patrick grumbled. "Try to talk some sense into him. I'm getting coffee." He left, slinging the door open.

"You believe me?"

Jasmine smiled. "I believe you. Sleep now, Oscar. It's over."

"Okay." His eyes drifted shut. "Hey," his eyes flickered. "Is it okay if I fall in love with you now?"

Jasmine smiled, kissing his forehead. "Yes," she giggled. "It's all right."

"Good," he mumbled. "Good."

A white Prius sat in the police impound, hood smudged, bullet holes in the bumper and grill. The moonlight glittered on the twisted chrome. Water from the radiator dripped on the ground mingling with the cool night air.

Suddenly, it seemed to shiver. Lights flickered on across the damaged control panel. The GPS cycled on once more and a red destination blip appeared. With a heavy sigh, the engine started and the white Prius rolled into the night.

THE END

© 2018 Dellani Oakes

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Oscar Friedman's Freakish Occurrence - Part 10 by Dellani

Oscar spends a very satisfactory night with Jasmine, and a good day at the book signing. When they are getting ready to leave, he spots his Prius in the parking lot. Which is odd, because Jasmine gave him a ride. He'd left the car at the hotel.

"Okay. I'll check for the paperwork just to be sure. Can I follow you there? I don't trust the GPS."

"Sure." She gave him a kiss.

Oscar found the car door open. Sitting in the driver's seat, he opened the glove compartment. Finding the rental papers, he saw that it was indeed his car, but he had no idea how it had come to be there. He leaned across to put the papers back in, pulling in his left foot which had been dangling out the door. The door slammed shut, catching him in the ankle. Cursing, he tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The locks engaged and the car started on its own.

Trying to open windows and doors with the buttons was impossible. Terrified, Oscar banged on the window. Jasmine walked toward him, hands extended. An electrical shock zapped her fingers painfully. Every time she tried to touch the car, she got another jolt.

"Help!" Oscar yelled, banging on the window. "Get Patrick!"

The other authors were coming out the door, their arms full of books. Eyes wide, they stared in horror as the car advanced on them, roaring menacingly. With a final growl, the car leaped forward, scattering his friends as he beat against the windshield.

Tires screeching, the car hurtled into traffic, leaving multiple accidents in its wake. Oscar tried to take control of the car, hitting the brake ineffectively with his right foot. The left was still painfully trapped between the door and seat. He tried to open the door, but it refused to budge. He tried the emergency brake only to have the car accelerate. The gearshift produced no results. As he careened along the road, the interstate loomed ahead.

"Stop! Damn you! Stop!"

"Freeway entrance on the right in .2 miles," The GPS said calmly.

The possessed Prius took the freeway entrance at ninety, scattering traffic in its wake. Chaos followed them as the car wove in and out of traffic. Oscar lost track of the collisions, hiding his face in his hands. Feeling helpless and responsible, he tried again to bring the car to a halt.

Alternately praying and cursing, he wrestled with the controls. Passing a state trooper, he burst into tears. This was all he needed, a speeding ticket in a car he couldn't control. Blue lights and sirens followed him down the road. That was an improvement, really, as the other traffic moved out of the way. He could see the trooper talking on his radio, fury contorting his features. The officer pulled up next to Oscar, pointing sternly at the side of the road. His lips formed the words, "Pull over!"

Oscar raised his hands helplessly, shrugging. The car accelerated, leaving the trooper in a cloud of exhaust. Moments later, his phone rang. Digging it out of his left pants pocket was no easy feat. He lay down across the seats, freeing the phone.

"Help!" He yelled into the phone.

"Mr. Friedman?"

"Help me! Who is this? Help!"

"It's Don from the car rental agency. What's wrong?"

"Your car! It's running away with me! I'm on the interstate going 110 in a Prius!"

"Mr. Friedman, just calm down."

"I can't. Don't you see? The car's possessed! It's kidnapped me!"

"Freeway exit on the right in .5 miles," the GPS said in a cold tone. "Hang onto your hat, we're in for a bumpy ride."

"Did you hear that? That was the GPS! It's talking to me!"

"That's impossible. It's your writer's imagination."

"It's not his imagination, Don," the car said.

"Did you hear that?"

"Is Jasmine with you? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"No joke, Donnie," the car replied. "You know cars don't have a sense of humor."

"Jesus H. Christ! What did you do to my car?" Don yelled.

"Me? I didn't do anything? It's possessed!"

"Freeway exit on the right," the GPS intoned calmly as it dinged.

Not slowing at all, it took the off ramp, shooting into the intersection without regard to lights. Making a hard left, it swung crazily across the lanes of traffic, scattering more cars. They were headed toward the country. Desperate now, Oscar knew he had to get free. Lying down, he had a little more room to get his leg out from between the door and seat. He sat up, wiggling his shoe off, then lowered the seat to a reclining position.

By wriggling and twisting, he pulled his foot slowly toward him. Something snapped in his ankle, but his foot finally came free. With a shuddering groan, Oscar put his shoe back on. Examining his surroundings, he started to formulate a plan. If he could get to the trunk, maybe he could find the tool kit, he might be able to damage the car enough to make it stop. Struggling against the erratic movement of the car, he opened one side, lying on it as he examined the trunk.

© 2018 Dellani Oakes

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Oscar Friedman's Freakish Occurrence - Part 9 by Dellani

Quite uncharacteristically for them both, Oscar and Jasmine end up sleeping together. The next day, he's late for his book signing. Jasmine agrees to drop him off, and asks if she should pick him up later.

"Yes, please." Leaning across the seats, he kissed her deeply. "Thanks for the ride. And thank you very much for last night."

"You're welcome—and you're very welcome. Get out now, I'm holding up traffic. Your fans await."

"Come back before six, I'll give you a signed copy."

Oscar walked in the store with the biggest smile he could remember. Patrick was stunned at how happy he looked. Oscar smiled and chatted with everyone, giving them personalized inscriptions, selling more books than he ever had at one venue before.

"What's got you so happy?" Patrick asked him as they were closing for the evening.

"I met someone yesterday."

"Really? Do I get to meet her?"

"Yeah, she's picking me up soon. There's something really special about this woman, Pat."

"She the reason you were late this morning?"

Blushing, Oscar dug his toe into the carpet, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, she was. We had an extended date last night. More than that, I'll be damned if I tell a married man."

"You lucky bastard." Patrick chucked him in the shoulder. "And you aren't the least bit proud of yourself either."

Oscar chuckled nervously. "It's been a long time since a woman made me feel like this. Maybe this the one, Pat. I've been alone a long time. Barb's been gone for six years now." His wife, Barbara, died of cancer shortly after their sixteenth wedding anniversary.

"Just be careful," Patrick said with a frown of concern. "It's easy to get carried away in the heat of the moment. Don't set yourself up for a fall, Oscar."

"If I fall, I fall. I've lived long enough in fear. Not again, not this time."

Afternoon sunshine glittered on the brass door fixtures as it opened. Jasmine stood there framed by the doorway, the golden light limned her body in an ethereal aura. Oscar's grin broadened and he waved at her from across the store.

"There she is," he told Patrick, already walking toward the door.

"Like I couldn't tell!" The older man called after him.

Oscar greeted Jasmine with a kiss. "Hi. I was just telling my publisher about you."

"Really? All good, I hope?"

"Only the best. Come meet him. Patrick's kind of intense sometimes, but he means well."

With her hand on his arm, he walked her over to where his friend stood. After polite introductions, Patrick warmed to Jasmine. Oscar could tell that he genuinely liked the woman and that made him feel good. The other authors gathered around for their chance at introductions. Jasmine was delighted to meet each of them, complimenting their work.

"I haven't had the chance to read all your books yet," she admitted with a slight blush. "However, I've read excellent reviews. The ones I have read are great. I've left reviews on several websites."

After thanking her, they drifted off. Patrick joined them, organizing their cleanup. Oscar and Jasmine were left alone in slightly awkward silence, neither knowing what to say next. Then Oscar remembered he'd promised her a book.

"Oh, I already signed it and set it aside for you. It's my most recent. Kind of a crime and romance combination. I hope you like it."

"I've enjoyed your other books very much," she admitted. "Only since you write under a different name, I didn't put it together. You don't look a lot like your photos."

Oscar blushed, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders slumped. "Well, they certainly do their best. Not like they've got a lot to work with."

"Actually, I think you look handsomer in person. The photos age you a good few years. I thought you'd be in your sixties."

"Really?" His face brightened. "I think you totally made my day."

"Good. You made mine. I brought my other books for you to sign. They're in the car."

"Oh, sweet! Let me tell the others goodbye and we can go."

Walking into the parking lot, Oscar was surprised to see a white Prius sitting in a prominent place near the store. Was it his imagination, or was there a sooty mark on the hood?

"You didn't drive the Prius here, did you?"

"No."

Oscar walked over to the car. "Does this look like my rental?"

Jasmine joined him, checking the car tag. "It's ours. I recognize the tag holder. Don had them specially made just for us."

"What's it doing here? I rode with you."

"I don't know. You really should drive it to the office. Don thought he'd have a car or two by this evening. He's still there."

© 2018 Dellani Oakes

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Oscar Friedman's Freakish Occurrence - Part 8 by Dellani

Things are getting freakier with the car. Not only does it drive him out of town, it speaks to him, shaming and threatening him. Completely freaked out, he decides to take the car back to the rental company, even if it means buying a new car for transportation. On a whim, he invites Jasmine Bond to dinner. After a little too much to drink, they decide to go dancing.

"I love to dance! Where can we go?"

"The hotel has a lounge with dancing, sir," the waitress told them in a quiet voice. "They're open until three."

"Shank of the evening!" Oscar said more loudly than he meant to.

Handing the waitress a generous tip, he walked unsteadily to the lounge with Jasmine. They danced and drank until the lounge closed. Uncertain that she could get home, Jasmine hesitated at the doorway.

"Come upstairs. I'll make coffee. Then you can call a cab."

"Okay," she agreed. "I like coffee."

Between the two of them, they got his door open. It took nearly five minutes of giggling and shushing to get the card to work. They collapsed together on the king sized bed, laughing giddily.

"You know what, Bond, Jasmine Bond?"

"Nope. What?"

"I'd really like to kiss you," Oscar said, suddenly feeling less light headed.

"I'd really like that," she replied, grabbing his coat collar.

Totally out of character, Oscar found himself not only kissing Jasmine Bond, but doing things on a first date he'd never done before. In a turn of events that caught them both by surprise, they were naked. Somehow, making love seemed like the right thing to do, so they did. Following an even more logical sequence of events, they tried it again just to make sure they had done it right the first time, only to find that they had.

It wasn't until the phone rang at 9:00 the next morning that they woke in the middle of the bed, spooning. Oscar didn't know which of them was more embarrassed, but rather suspected it was he. Even as a teenager, he'd never bedded a woman he'd known less than a day. Sure, he'd fooled around a lot in high school and college, but always with girls he'd known for awhile. As an adult, the only women he'd gone to bed with were ones he'd known for months or years, never a casual acquaintance.

Feeling wretched about his behavior, he finally realized that the phone was ringing. As Jasmine stumbled to the bathroom, he answered.

"Yeah?"

"Oscar, where are you?"

"Huh? Who is this?"

"Patrick. It's Patrick!"

"Oh, hey, Patrick. Sorry, I didn't recognize your voice."

"Have you been drinking?"

"Last night, some.... I lost track."

"You're late. You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago."

"Oh, crap!" Oscar sat up in bed, dropping the phone.

Scrambling around, he picked it up again. Patrick was in full voice, yelling angrily.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, Pat. Sorry. I overslept. I had a little bit to drink last night."

"Get your ass over here now!"

"Coming. I'm coming. I need a shower. I'll be there." He hung up.

Jasmine stood in the bathroom doorway clutching her clothing. "I'm so embarrassed. I never did anything like this before. I'm mortified."

"I'm so sorry," Oscar began. "Me either. It was just so...."

"..... Right," she finished.

"Yeah. I have a huge favor to ask."

"Sure."

"Can you drive me to today's venue? I don't trust that car. It gave me fits yesterday."

"Sure. I need a shower."

"Me too. Let's share."

Raising an eyebrow, she gave him a dubious look.

"I promise. No peeking. I'll bathe with my eyes closed."

Giggling, she tugged his hand. "You've seen me naked already."

"Which is why I'll bathe with my eyes closed. Otherwise, both of us are gonna be real late getting anywhere."

They bathed and dressed quickly, heading to the parking lot together. His car was parked right where he'd left it, looking innocent in the morning sunshine. Walking to another area of the lot, they got in her car and headed to the Barnes & Noble where the day long event was taking place. Huge banners in the windows proclaimed his presence at the store.

"Thanks," Oscar said as she pulled up in front of the store. "Jasmine, about last night...."

"Forget about it," she smiled.

"I don't want to. I know it sounds crazy, but I really don't want it to be a one night thing. I'd like to see you again. This time, I swear, I won't get you drunk and take advantage."

"I'd like that. Shall I pick you up at six?"

© 2018 Dellani Oakes

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