A story about a regular guy literally ruins into trouble.
| It was a clear summer day as I drove to Denny’s to pick up my order. I cruised along without a care in the world. As I continued to drive on the street I was startled as my bumper hit a black sedan from behind causing the trunk to open. “Ah man!” I said. I was distraught over the small fender bender to say the least. Things started to run through my mind. Dang it! I don’t have the kind of money to get this fixed. Just great, I’m going to have to drive around with this embarrassing bumper all crushed!Despite my aggravation, I planned to put on a courteous attitude and speak peaceably to whoever a was about to meet. Then as soon as the individual stepped out of the car I was shocked at who I was looking at.
I spoke with a polite tone and asked his name just to make sure it was really him. “Excuse me, but are you…Samuel L. Jackson?” I was quite elated and didn’t know what to say. I walked towards him to shake his hand that was trembling a bit from my emotions. I was mortified at what I saw next. A dead body lay face up with eyes open. I swallowed and was taken aback. I looked at the body and then at my favorite actor.
“What’s shaken man? Yes it’s me in the flesh. Oh, don’t mind the body it’s just a prop for a movie I’m going to be starring in.”
Wanted to handle the body to see of was fake but I was afraid of making a confrontation with a major celebrity. It was also quite odd that he would be carrying a single prop, in his own fancy car. Okay buddy, what’s your deal? I thought. I would have said it out loud but I was afraid of what might happen next.
“Why are you sweating like that? You don’t think it’s real do you?”
“Um no; of course not.” I forced a nervous smile and was afraid he might kill me and put my own body with the other. I was not sure if such a thing was plausible but I was still in a great deal of shock.
Get in your car and call the police!” I thought anxiously. At this point I was beginning to wonder what his real story was. “Okay, nice to meet you. I don’t mean to be rude but I have to go.” I said trying not to show my fear.
“Aren’t we supposed to exchange information?” Mr. Jackson said.
There is no way I’m going to tell you my phone number or address you liar! I thought.
Then he said something that seemed to come right out of a mafia movie. “Hey would you lie to go on a short ride to the studio with me? It’s the least I could do.” He said.
At that point my legs locked and my heart raced. I found myself in a lose lose situation. Who knows what he will do if I go with him, but if I say no he’ll get curios.
Then, fortune intervened when a highway patrol car drove by us. I waved my hands and called out ‘Officer, officer! This man has a dead body in his trunk!”
The officer stepped out of his car. I felt a strong release as my stomach untightened and my mind stopped racing. When the cop was a few yards away he stopped and his eyes widened. “You’re Samuel L. Jackson!” he said.
“Look into his trunk. There’s a dead body in it!” I said.
Mr. Jackson rebuffed his explanation. “I’m sorry officer, this man thinks this prop is a real body, “he said with a laugh.
“Ha, ha, ha. These days props and what not indeed look very real. He, You really thought that such a high paid celebrity would have a reason to kill someone? Relax Mr.” the officer said. “Well, the crash barely did any damage. I just need for you to sign a few papers and you can both be on your way.”
That just about made me die right on the spot with fear. My hand was shaking as I signed the forms.
“Okay. It seems everything is in order. Mr. Jackson, may I have your autograph?
“Sure thing pal. Here you go.” He said as he handed a signed paper to the officer.
“Thank you so much. Good day to you both.” After that the officer walked away.
I did not know what to do. As frightened as I was I still had enough sense to comprehend that Mr Jackson knew that I could complicate whatever he was up to. His face changed from friendly to serious and coarse. “If you ever tell another living soul about this you’ll be joining my friend in the back. Clear?”
“Yes,” I said.
Then, without a word, he closed his trunk and drove off. Hence until this day I have lived with the secret that I could never tell. A few things baffle me. The biggest was what motivation he could have had. Did the dead man know something such as a drug addiction or thievery that he had committed? Was it a film critic that had only bad things to say? Whatever it was, I’ll take it grave and I hope I never see him again.