One Secret

Would you dare to tell you deepest, darkest secret to a total stranger?

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This short story is presented for personal entertainment only. Commercial and all other use is expressly prohibited.

(c) 2011-2017 Robert Horseman, All rights reserved.

The voice of her parents muttered in Erica’s subconscious, What are you doing? You know it’s dangerous to pick up hitchhikers. They are all greasy hillbillies. Sweetie, we know what’s best for you. Right, so why was her foot pressing on the brake pedal? It was a man, of course. Hitchhikers were rare these days, and hitchhiking women were almost unheard of. As she slowed the car she took a mental inventory of him. He wore a long grey trench coat, and the falling drizzle dripped off the front of a khaki colored baseball cap. A duffle was tossed over his shoulder, and several days of beard growth shadowed his face. She should just drive on, she knew, but there was something about the man, and her intuition was rarely wrong. She fought back a moment of panic as she pulled to a stop beside him, and rolled down the passenger window a few inches. “Where are you headed, mister?” “Goldendale, ma’am. Goin’ to visit my sister.” This stretch of highway 97 between Toppenish and Goldendale was a two-lane undivided highway through mountain wilderness, with little more than old logging roads branching off at random intervals. She could hardly refuse now by saying she wasn’t headed that way, as the main road went right through Goldendale. Erica hesitated, battling with her trepidation. “Ma’am, don’t fret about me. I’ll either hike it or there’ll be another car along before long. If you’re worried, just go on your way. I’ll be fine.” He’s right, I should just drive away. Instead, she leaned across the passenger seat and pushed the door open. “Hop in, mister. You’re at least forty miles from Goldendale, and that’s a hell of a hike.” “Thank you ma’am. Mighty nice of you. It’s a lousy day for a hike.” He climbed in and threw his duffle into the back seat. Extending his hand, he said, “Grady Johnson, at your service.” She looked at the hand for a moment, then reached out and shook it. “Nice to meet you Grady, I’m Erica.” As she accelerated off the apron, she said, “Just so you know, this ride isn’t free.” Grady started in surprise, then said, “Uh, well okay, I suppose that’s fair. What’s the fare?” “One secret.” “Excuse me?” “We’re complete strangers, and the likelihood that we’ll see each other again is extremely remote. We’ll each unburden ourselves by telling one deep dark personal secret. The other will not judge in any way; just listen.” “I see. What if I have no deep dark secret?” She slowed the car. “It’s a long walk to Goldendale, and the price isn’t that steep, is it? Trust me, I’ve done this before. It’s very liberating.” He swallowed hard. “I suppose I do have one. Will you go first?” “Sorry, that’s not how it works. This is my car, so you have to go first. But I promise to tell a secret that’s at least on par with yours, if I can. Start whenever you’re ready.” He stared at her for a long moment, then said, “Fine, but what I will tell you will sound a bit scary. It’s not what you think, so don’t be alarmed. I’ll explain after.” She took her eyes off the road briefly, looked over at him, and smiled. “Sounds intriguing; you’re giving me goose bumps.” She could feel his stare as he began speaking, but she kept her eyes firmly on the road in front of her. “You are recently divorced, about three months ago. Your ex-husband’s name is Steven, and this was his car before the divorce. You have one child, a toddler girl, whom you have left with a relative. Her name is Sara. You moved out of your former home, and now live in an apartment. You haven’t met any men worthy of your interest since your divorce. You are presently a bit strapped for cash, but expect that to be short lived.” Erica slowed the car. “What kind of secret is that? You’re just totally freaking me out. Are you some kind of stalker?” “Not at all. You’re perfectly safe from me, and like you said, you’ll never see me again after today.” She tipped her head as though listening to something no one else could hear, and replied, “I believe you. Now tell me how you know all that and why it’s a deep dark secret.” He sighed. “I have a gift for intense observation. I learned all that since I first saw your car on the highway. It’s not something I ever share, as it tends to push people away. They get scared of me. And because of what I learn that way, I don’t tend to interact well with people.” “Can you just not use it?” “I wish it was that easy. It’s so in-grained in me it’s become second nature. It’s like a flood I can’t turn off.” “Are you going to tell me how you knew all that stuff? A lot of it is very personal.” “Sure. First off, you have a faint indentation on your ring finger. You don’t get an indentation unless you wear a ring a long time, and it takes a few months to fade after you stop. Therefore, you recently got divorced. Your ex-husband’s name is Steven and this was his car because that’s the name on your ignition key ring. The right side back seatbelt is cinched quite short, which is what is done to hold a car-seat. The other is not, so you have one child of toddler age. The name Sara is printed on the pink hair clip sitting in the back seat, obviously a girl. The bit about her staying with a relative was a high probability guess. The house key on your keychain is stamped with a number, so it’s an apartment key. Therefore, you have moved out of the house you shared with your ex-husband. You car’s exhaust smoke is a bit blue, indicating that the car is burning oil. Since you haven’t had it fixed, I surmise you are strapped for cash. With a small child you should get child support payments, so your financial condition should improve. Was I correct?” “Pretty good, but I’m divorced four months, not three.” He chuckled, “I stand corrected.” “But how did you determine that I haven’t met any interesting men since the divorce? You certainly can’t get that by observation.” “Sure I can; in fact that was the easiest one. You haven’t met any interesting men because you picked me up, a total stranger, on the highway.” He looked over and studied her again. “You weren’t really scared like you said, were you? You faked surprise.” She smiled. “Perhaps.” “Why?” “You’ll figure it out. In any case, that’s the most intriguing secret I’ve heard since I started doing this. And now it’s my turn.” “Yes, and it has to be at least as intriguing as mine. You promised.” “Well, there is something, but it’s going to freak you out.” He straightened. “Really? It’s been a long time since that has happened.” He rubbed his hands together and grinned. “I’m all ears.” “Your name isn’t Grady Johnson, it’s Reginald Van Buren. You’ve hated that name all your life and swore to change it one day, but never have. Grady was the name of your best friend in high school.” He sat back, his jaw dropping open in utter astonishment. She glanced over at him, and smiled in satisfaction. “Was I correct?” His words came out slowly. “That’s not possible. You--- you can’t know that. I couldn’t pick up something like that. How?” “I prefer to demonstrate. Are you game?” “I’m not sure; you’re giving me the creeps.” “No, you’re intrigued. I’ll play fair, just innocuous stuff. I’ll ask you questions, and you may tell the truth or deliberately lie. You don’t have to answer at all if you don’t want to.” He paused, staring out past the swinging wiper blades at the passing landscape. “Okay, go ahead.” “Where did you go to college?” “UCLA” “Lie, you went to the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. What was your major?” “Mechanical Engineering.” “Truth. Who was your first love?” He turned and stared at her, unwilling to speak. She said, “Sasha Richardson, in eighth grade. But she--- oh, I’m sorry. That must be a painful memory. Forgive me.” “That’s enough. How are you doing this? Are you a mind reader or something? “Closer to or-something. I can’t dig into your head and pull out anything, and I can’t do it with just anyone. The person has to be with a leaker.” “A what?’ “A leaker, at least that’s what I call people like you. About one in five people are. Their surface thoughts leak out of them, and I seem to be able to pick them up. Let me tell you, it’s a gift I could do without. You wouldn’t believe the crap I hear, even from the most pious of people.” “Man, I thought I had it bad. You’re definitely a full level of hell above me.” “Do you think I’m pretty?” “Uh---“ She smiled and blushed. “Why Reginald, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever leaked to me.” “You’re quite a handful, Erica. So, you’re like a human lie detector?” “That’s part of it, but people lie to themselves all the time. I only get what they believe to be true. It gets even more confusing when people try out different scenarios in their minds before deciding on a course of action. The nicest people come up with the weirdest things, but that doesn’t mean that’s what they will do. In some people it sounds like several minds competing with each other. Those give me a headache.” “How does my mind sound to you?” “I sensed something unusual about you as I saw you along the road. Your mind is like a calm blue ocean. Only innocent thoughts leak out. You’re quite refreshing actually.” He grinned. “Do you think I’m handsome?” She tipped her head back and laughed as she hit the gas. He smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

•••••The End •••••