The Devil´s driver
I don't know how I
started that job, if it could be said it was a job.
It was a morning when I didn’t sleep at all discussing nonsense and drinking bottles of strong liquor in company of people of the worst kind. Some of them were confessed murderers, others unscrupulous drug traffickers when it came to defending a territory or when securing a cocaine shipment; others, women of dubious life and even a dwarf who played a broken tambourine. The truth is that at daybreak, still in the darkness of night, I left that canteen, which was rather a hidden pigsty.
As I crossed the entrance
door, I stumbled over a misplaced empty soda box. Falling down I almost broke
my forehead and cut my face with one of the glass pieces of one of the broken
bottles. I was lucky, I only hit my lip when I bit myself with my teeth and the
edge of the sidewalk; the hot blood reminded me that it was already daylight,
and made me realize I was completely drunk.
As I got up, a raggedy
man with a scraggly beard, leaning against a gold Aston Martin — a gold Aston
Martin. What a stupid thing! —; Looking at me pitifully, said: I want you to be
my driver for three days. If you comply, I will give you for a month all the
dollars you want, all the wine that exist in the world and stunning women that
you would think they do not exist, twenty of them for every night you hold the
wheel of this car.
Of course, I didn't
believe him! I was drunk, but I was not an asshole! How could a homeless in such
deplorable condition have a car like that and offer me the pearls of life? He
insisted by giving me the car key, evidently made of gold. I pressed a button,
and the driver´s door opened. Then in my drunkenness I managed to nod with a
repetitive movement of the neck, opening at the same time the back door for
him.
The Aston in the back had
a little canteen with the most expensive bottles I'd ever seen in my battered
life. The raggedy man began to pour himself a drink and handed a half-filled
one to me, stretching out his hand. The cold drink brought my breath back and I
settled down at ease holding the wheel like a pro; Not for nothing I’d been an
assistant on a race track, where they throw me out when I crashed against a
pole an expensive prototype. I accelerated and we drove away, the tires
grinding on the pavement.
As I turned on a curve,
I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the homeless had become a classy handsome
guy in a black suit. Smiling at me with a mocking grimace, inside my head I
heard him say: I am the Devil, by getting in this car you already agreed to
sell me your soul for these three days. As payment you will have for a month all
the alcohol, the money that I promised you and super beautiful women, but your
will will be subject to what mine dictates. Words will not be necessary,
because no one said the devil needs to speak.
For three days I was
his driver and I witnessed the worst evils that human beings could commit. In
fact, the devil did not persuade them to commit atrocities, murders or rapes;
he simply showed up when they were already happening and without being seeing
he approached them and incited them to be more heartless, to hit without mercy.
After three days he
kept his word and set me free. Then for a month I enjoyed unimaginable
pleasures surrounded by beautiful girls, friends who grew like mushrooms in
canteens or in exclusive restaurants, and my wallet was pouring five hundred
dollar bills every time I took a good wad of it.
After a month
everything disappeared. That day I returned to my drunk life, to the same
pigsty and to drink with men and women of the worst kind. The next morning,
stumbling, I encountered the same raggedy man again; this time leaning in a
silver Maserati. Inside my head I heard him tell me. I want you to be my driver
for a week. This time I slightly nodded my head from side to side.
The only thing I felt
was a strong punch in my face that threw me on the sidewalk.
Wiping the blood from
my teeth with my right fist, I could only see that he got into the car and,
skidding the tires, he disappeared away in an instant. I was stuck with rage
and just stammered: Son of a bitch...!
ɷɷɷɷ …. ∞∞∞∞…. ɷɷɷɷ …. ϰϰϰϰ …. ɷɷɷɷ…. ∞∞∞∞ …. ɷɷɷɷ
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