"It is Friday the 13th. Write a chain of events that happen to the main character."

 

Approx 2,889 words

 

 

 

HEXED

©2003 by W. E. Lopez

 

Jerry Henning noted the clock on the television read 10:45 just before he unplugged it and carried it to the bedroom.  He set it upon the chest of drawers across from his bed and the digital numbers began flashing the moment he plugged it into the wall socket.  He glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside his bed, 10:47, and set the time, then the alarm for 6:10 in the morning.

He went to his nightstand and set the alarm for 6:00 in the morning.  “There,” he said to himself.  Ain’t no way I’m gonna over sleep and miss my flight in the morning.”

The bachelor party his office chums insisted on throwing for him was still going strong when Jerry left Boobies a Go-Go, but Jerry pleaded the need to get some sleep before getting up in the morning.  His flight to Las Vegas was set to take off at 10:00, and Jerry intended to be at the airport by 7:00 to get through the elaborate security check-in.  He certainly didn’t want to be late for his wedding!

With both alarms set, Jerry slipped out of his clothes and between the covers.  Helped by the few drinks at the party, he was asleep in just a few moments.

*     *     *

The clock on the nightstand read 3:18 when the face suddenly went blank.  The clock across the room winked out as well.  Four blocks down Lemon and two blocks over on Grove, a green SUV failed to make the turn in an effort to outrun the police cruiser with blaring siren and flashing lights.  Skidding on two wheels, the SUV managed to cross the street at a forty-five degree angle before smashing into a telephone pole, sending the pole, transformer and lines crashing to the ground.

Screeching to a halt just yards from the scene of the crash, the police radioed for an ambulance, as well as a repair crew from PG&E.  The fleeing suspect was arrested and taken to the Emergency Room at Valley Memorial where his minor injuries were attended to before he was released to the custody of the Hawthorne Police Department.

Power was restored to Jerry Henning’s home at 6:23 and the two digital clocks powered up and began flashing 12:00, over and over, waiting to be reset.

*     *     *

Awakened by a repeated pounding on his door, Jerry immediately noticed the sunlight streaming through his bedroom window.  He glanced first at one clock and then the other and was dismayed to see them both flashing 12:00.

Kee-rist!” Jerry swore.  He slipped from the bed and threw a robe on as he staggered to the door and opened it.

“Come on, Jerry!  You didn’t stay that long at the party!  It’s after eight and I don’t see how you can make your flight.”  Patrick Sorensen had agreed to be Jerry’s best man and they planned to take the flight together.

“Eight?  No way can I make it… I’ve still got to shower, shave, and get dressed.  Do you think I can catch a later flight, Pat?”

 “On a Friday?  I think you have two chances, Jerry, slim and none.  Probably every flight from southern California to Las Vegas has been booked at least a week.  The fastest way for you and I to get to Vegas will be to drive.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.  Let me catch a quick shower, will you?  Ya’ want to take your car or mine?”

“That Toyota of yours is economical, Jerry, it’s also slow.  If we expect to make any time, we better take my ‘Vette.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.  I’ll be out of the shower in a shake, Pat.”

As good as his word, Jerry reappeared in less than ten minutes.  He wore casual charcoal slacks, a powder blue polo shirt, and suede loafers.  Over his shoulder he carried a garment bag with his freshly pressed suit, shirt, and tie, while in the other hand he carried a small over-night case with the essentials for a brief honeymoon in the Bahamas.

Pat looked up from a sports report on ESPN news and said, “I tried to call Stacey while you were in the shower, but I guess she’s still in the air.”

“Probably, Pat, although I always get confused with the time changes, I can’t imagine how she keeps them straight.  She left Stuttgart at 8:00 this morning and should arrive in Atlanta at 11:00 because of the time change.  From there, she connects to Vegas at 2:00 this afternoon, and we planned the wedding for 3:00.  At 4:00, it’s back to Atlanta and then to the Bahamas for 9 days.”

“Lucky guy, Jerry, not only marrying one of the prettiest stews working for Delta, but getting away from Beta-Soft while we work our tails off on the new server firewall.”

“Very lucky, Pat.  Walters didn’t want to let me go, but I convinced him that 16 months without a vacation should put me at the top of the list, and my own wedding is more important to me than his firewall project.”

“Come on,” Pat said.  “Let’s quit gabbing and make tracks.  Let me have your suit and I’ll lay it out in the back for you.  We wouldn’t want it to get wrinkled, would we?”

Shortly they were headed east on the 91, intending to catch I-15 at San Bernardino.  Pat held the speedometer at 75 when traffic allowed, reasonably certain he could get away with driving just a few miles over the speed limit.  Jerry kept up polite conversation, not wanting to brag about his fabulous fiancée, but wanting to avoid any shop talk at the same time.  Occasionally, when traffic crowded in and their pace slacked off, he made a few choice comments about the ancestors and breeding habits of other drivers sharing the freeway.

By 9:30 they were beginning the climb at Cajon Pass.  Pat eased the speed up to 80 and they soon drove through Victorville and Barstow.  On that sixty mile stretch between Barstow and Baker, Pat pushed the ‘Vette up to 90.  Twelve miles south of Baker a highway patrol cruiser gave chase, with lights flashing, and Jerry immediately pulled over.

“Just my luck,” Pat said.  “As if the insurance on a ‘Vette isn’t bad enough, another speeding ticket will jump my rates at least two-fifty per year.”  Jerry commiserated with his buddy, but sat silent while the officer slowly wrote out the ticket and went to his cruiser to verify the license and registration and check for wants and warrants.

“You might want to take it just a little easier on your way to Vegas, Mr. Sorensen.  Lots of accidents on that stretch of highway and emergency facilities are few and far between.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be careful.  Thank you, officer.”  As the officer walked back to the cruiser, Pat switched on the engine and sedately entered traffic again.  “We’ve only 86 miles to go, Jerry, and it’s just twenty past one.  I told you I’d get you there buddy!  Why don’t you try your cell phone and see if you can get hold of Stacey?”

Jerry did try, but the drop-out rate along that hundred mile stretch of highway is quite high.  No sooner would Stacey’s phone begin to ring than they would round a curve and the connection would be lost as Jerry’s phone indicated “No Service.”

“No luck, Pat.  Perhaps when we’re over Mountain Pass and have a straight shot at Vegas, perhaps it’ll be better.”

Pat pushed the ‘Vette up to 85 again as they began that long climb to the summit.  Jerry, a little anxious, said, “Pat, pushing the car that hard is sure to overheat the engine before we get to the top.  Why don’t you shut off the air conditioning, or at least slow down a little and down shift to a lower gear?”

“Slow down a Corvette, Jerry?  You’ve got to be kidding.  The needle has barely creeped up a notch anyway.”

Ten minutes later, Pat couldn’t help but pull the car to the side of the road when the needle went dangerously into the red zone.  “That will teach me to mouth off at you, Jerry.  I’m sorry; it looks like we’ll be delayed again.”

“It can’t be more than a mile before we reach the top, Pat.  Are you game to try pushing this buggy?”

“Okay, okay, it’s my fault anyway.  I’ll give it a try if you’ll put your back into it.”  Under the glaring sun, they pushed and pushed the ‘Vette up the hill.  By the time they had barely made it to the down-grade, both men were soaked with perspiration and dead tired from the exertion.

“Hop in,” Pat yelled.  “When we start coasting, the air flowing through the engine compartment will cool it down quickly.”

“But, isn’t it illegal to coast with the engine off, Jerry?”

“You want to make it in time for your wedding, don’t you?  Don’t try to teach your grandmother to suck eggs!”

The car picked up speed slowly, but soon they were doing almost sixty as they hurtled down the long down-grade.  Pat kept the key on to keep the dash instruments live.  As soon as the temperature needle dropped below the warning mark he started the engine.  The well tuned machine began purring like a tiger and he turned on the air conditioning again.

Sheesh!  I thought I was gonna die with that heat, Jerry.  Next time you decide to get married, I hope it will be some where north of the Arctic Circle.”

Jerry was about to make a reply when he heard a sound like a gunshot and Pat began fighting the wheel.

“Damn!” Pat said.  “We must have blown a tire!  Jerry, this wedding is certainly turning out to be a jinx for the both of us.  For two cents, I’d turn us around and save you a lot of grief for the rest of your life…, but before I can do that, we’ve got a tire to change.”

Pat found an off-ramp, fortunately nearby, and they got the car off the heavily traveled freeway where they could change the tire in safety.  They found the right rear had blown, and the rim had been slightly damaged when the steel hit the asphalt.  “Damn!  It looks like I’m gonna have to spend four hundred bucks for a new wheel, Jerry.  Let’s get the spare on this puppy, and we’ll be on our way again before you can shake a stick.”

Pat retrieved the jack from the luggage compartment and handed it to Jerry who began the task of loosening the lug-nuts before jacking the car up.  “Sorry again, Jerry, but you can save yourself the trouble.  This toy-doughnut is flatter than last year’s pancake batter.  I’m sorry, I’ve never needed to use it and I guess I sort of forgot to check it.”

“Well, that just about tears it, Pat, but I can’t blame you because I missed my flight.  What the heck can we do now?”

“If you’re dead certain you want to go through with this wedding, Jerry, why don’t you hitch-hike the rest of the way.  It’s less than fifty miles and I’m sure you’ll make it on time.  Do me a favor when you go through Jeane, won’t you?  Stop at a garage and send a tow-truck back for me.”

“That will be the least I can do, chum.  You sure you won’t mind my leaving you here?”

“Go on, mule-head.  Get yourself to the church on time and marry that girl.”

Jerry didn’t need to be told twice.  He began walking down the on-ramp and stuck out his thumb as soon as he hit the road way.  As luck would have it, he caught a ride in just a few moments.

Jerry was mildly surprised to see an attractive young woman driving the Volvo, while her boyfriend (husband?) sat in the back seat.  Perhaps the man had been napping while the lady drove?

Jerry was not as pleasantly surprised ten minutes later when he found himself walking along the highway again, after having been relieved of his wallet, cell phone and the wedding ring he was carrying when the man pulled a Saturday night special on him.  Should he dare try to hitch another ride?  He could see the casinos at Stateline just a few miles ahead of him, why not play it safe and just keep walking?

Jerry heard the brief ‘whoop’ of a siren and glanced behind him to see a highway patrol cruiser pulling to the side of the road and the officer motioning him to the passenger door.  What luck!  He would be safe riding with this fellow as far as Stateline anyway.

“Get in,” the officer told him gruffly.  “You got any ID?”

“I’m sorry, officer, I was just robbed by a couple who gave me a ride.  I’m on my way to Vegas to get married.”

“And I guess you don’t know it’s against the law to hitch hike on a freeway in this state?  I’m sorry, but I’ll have to write you up.”

“But it’s the truth, officer!  My buddy was driving me when we blew a tire just a little ways back.  Surely you must have passed a red Corvette?”  He realized, with Pat pulled off the highway at the off-ramp, the officer couldn’t have seen the car.  “I was walking because our spare was flat, and planned to call a tow-truck as soon as possible.  Then this couple in a Volvo picked me up, but then they robbed me.”

“Look, I’ll give you a break, buddy.  We’ll turn around and if you can show me where your buddy is parked, I’ll call a tow-truck for you and let you go.  Has your buddy got any money to pay the bill?”

“Of course, he’s gonna be my best-man and probably plans to spend a few hours gambling after the wedding before he drives back to Hawthorne.”

The officer put the car in gear and crossed the highway during a lull in the traffic, then raised a cloud of dust as he made a tire-spinning U-turn on the gravel median between the lanes.  “Okay, we’ll check out your story.  You don’t suppose this could be fate’s way of advising against this marriage?  What’s your lady doing in Vegas anyway?”

“She’s an airline hostess who just returned from a European hop,” Jerry said.  “She was gonna dead-head from Atlanta to Vegas, and after the wedding we’re headed for the Caribbean for our honeymoon.  There!” he pointed.  “That’s the bridge where Pat pulled off the highway.”

The officer quickly took the off-ramp and then the bridge across the highway where they found Pat sitting in the scarce shade next to his Corvette.

“You know this fellow?” the officer asked as he and Jerry stepped out of the police cruiser.

“What have you done now, Jerry?  Sure I do, officer.  As you can see, we had a blowout and the spare is flat.  Jerry was headed down the road to see if we could get a tow-truck.”

“Okay, Jerry, I guess that verifies your story.  Now, if you’ll give me a description of the car and the couple that robbed you, I’ll radio it ahead and we’ll alert the Nevada authorities.”

Jerry told the officer all he could remember, not forgetting to remind the officer about calling for a tow-truck.  For once, Lady Luck smiled at them today, when the tow-truck operator offered to bring them a new tire, although the price he was asking was un-armed robbery!

“Any port in a storm,” Pat sighed.  “Ask him if he’ll take VISA,” he said to the officer.

They did, they would, at 4:27 Jerry was standing in front of The Blue Bell Wedding Chapel making a long distance call using Pat’s AT&T calling card.  Stacey answered right away.

“I’ve had a few problems, Stacey.  I’ve had one delay after another, but I’m at the wedding chapel now.  Where are you?”

“Jerry, I’m stuck in Atlanta.  There’s been a bomb scare and they’ve evacuated the terminal.  I hope to be back in the air in another hour or so, but it’s still a four hour flight to Vegas.”

“I guess our luck has been running the same course, honey.  You sure you still want to go through with this wedding?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, Jerry.  I’ll be there in five or six more hours and I still want to get married.  But you better book us a hotel room, because it’s highly doubtful we’ll be able to make a flight to Atlanta and connect with our flight to the Bahamas tonight.”

“You betcha, honey.  I’ll call you again as soon as I book us into a hotel.”

“I’ll be waiting, Jer.  Kiss-kiss!”

“Kiss back,” he said before disconnecting.

“We’re still on,” he relayed to Pat, “but I hope you’ll advance me the cost of a hotel room on your credit card.  Bonnie and Clyde got mine.”

“Of course I will, Jerry.  I plan to be the only man in line to kiss the bride, but let this be a warning to you in the future.”

“Eh?  A warning?  About what?”

“Don’t plan your next wedding for Friday the Thirteenth.”

 

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