The Terror #wattys2017 #TNTHorrorContest

Sun Shiney Day

I heard Johnny Nash singing "Sun Shiney Day," through the rolled down windows of a car as it drew nearer. Worm was already running back my direction yelling,

 "DALE, speak of the Devil and here he comes." 

I should have known, if I'm seeing one ghost why not all of them. I hesitated to turn, I didn't want to know how many ghoulies and in what sort of condition they were going to be in this time. Worm was going on and on about how glad he was to see Dale and I could actually smell the leaky oil burning on the exhaust manifolds as that big fucking Merc sat and idled next to me at the curb. I closed my eyes and wished it to go away, just disappear like Worm in the donut shop. That's when Dale rapped those noisy fucking pipes, startling me out of my reverie, making me take notice.

There it sat, idling at the curb as if it belonged, as if it was an actuality but, there was a certain anomaly, not something you would notice at first glance. The surfaces did not refract the sunlight correctly, as if it were from another setting or stage perhaps, like a prop. Fortunately, it seemed to be empty of passengers, only Dale looking fresh as a daisy, ready for a night of cruising. 

He turned down the radio and leaned over to talk out the curbside window,

"Wanna ride?"

He had on those junky shades with a Kool hanging from his lip, the pack rolled up in his sleeve, displaying a tattoo I never noticed before, an anchor with a pin-up girl, under which it said "Navy." I just had to ask.

"Were you in the Navy Dale?" 

"Yeah!" He said as if I should have known that. "Did two years, got booted for being a shithead."

Worm's crawling through the window into the back seat, can't open the doo0r because the car is too low, but then I thought, sure you could, it's a fucking ghost car, it's not really here, couldn't give me a ride if I wanted one. So I reached for the rusty chrome door handle and pushed the button and just as I thought, my hand passed through it.

"That is a problem," said Dale, 

"So if you were in the Navy before I knew you, you must be older than I thought. How fucking old are you Dale?"

He thought about that for about a second and said,

"That's a damn good question there buddy, gonna have to give that some thought. Heather's gonna be where we're going, if you're interested, I know you always had a thing for her. Picking her up and gonna cruise Van Nuys, gonna check out all the Vato's shorts at Joe Ellens, wish you could come along holmes."

'I'll take a raincheck, maybe next time."

"Alright bud, you snooze you loose."

With that, he grabbed the big dice shifter, ground a little jamming it in low and peeled out, leaving two rubber lines on the street behind him. He drove right into the traffic, or should I say "through" traffic. Burning rubber down Foothill blvd. just like the old days, radio blaring, dodging through traffic and leaving me standing, longing to be with them, sweating in the Southern California heat watching those rubber marks fade away.