Chapter 3: Close To Home

Abraham Ford walked into the living room of their suburban home. His wife Maria was in the living room. Tears rolled from her eyes as a song that was somehow both melancholic, yet up-tempo serenaded her from the television. Her dinner laying untouched on the side.

“You listening to that Madame Tone again?” Abraham gruffly asked his wife, adjusting his half-moon spectacles.

“Her songs bring me some comfort... pretty much the only thing that does since our boy was...” her tears intensified as the final words caught in her throat.

Abraham pulled his wife into a hug, “I know darling, it's been tough since we lost Wheeler” he paused briefly, noticing her uneaten meal “But darling you must eat something.

“I’m not hungry.” she protested weakly, as her tears intensified.

Abraham held his distraught wife even tighter.

“He was still young.” sniffed Maria though her sobs. She then looked up at her husband. “Do you think there is an afterlife?”

“I’m honestly not sure darling” Abraham confessed, as he uncoiled his arms from around her and made his way to the liquor cabinet.

Maria was still sobbing, although less intensely. “Madame Tone says she channels the tones of the dead in her songs. That they are the laments of spirits of those who passed.”.

“I wouldn’t have expected the laments of spirits to be so... upbeat” admitted Abraham. “You could probably raise the dead with that racket”.

“You do believe in spirits right dear?” Maria asked her husband.

“I've been known consort with spirits.” he chuckled, as he poured out a glass of gin, downing it in one before pouring another.

“You’ll be one if you keep drinking at that rate” his wife complained.

“You’ve got your coping mechanism, and I got mine.” he grunted, wiping his mouth.

Abraham sipped his second glass of gin more slowly as he made his way over to the window. Looking outside, he saw something blighting the usual serene view of their quiet street. “That weird truck is still out there”.

The truck in question was an extremely large one, more suited to a highway than a suburban street. It had arrived about a day after their son’s death. Since then, it had just sat there, ominous yet unmoving, for an entire week.

“Maybe I should call the police” Abraham considered.

“I admit it’s got me rattled, but would they bother to respond to something like this?” his wife wondered out loud. “It’s not exactly an emergency.”

“Remember that nice officer that informed us about Wheeler’s accident, Officer Slaw?” her husband asked.

“You mean Murphy?” Maria responded. “He seemed like a nice man, perhaps a little serious but... you know, in a nice way”.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Yes, that’s the chap. Well, he gave me his own personal number and told me to call him if anything came up”. confirmed Abraham.

“That might be a good idea then...it is rather unsettling.” Maria admitted “It keeps honking at me and flashing its headlights whenever I go outside.”

“It’s been doing the same to me! That must qualify as harassment!” Abraham slammed his now empty glass down on the windowsill. Then grabbed his old flip cell phone to make the call.

“Honestly dear you must get a smartphone.”

Abraham grumbled “I don’t need one of those fancy overcomplicated things, this does me fine thank you.” With that, he carefully keyed in the phone number

Wheeler’s parents couldn't of possibly of known it was their own son who was parked outside. That he was the very truck they were complaining about.

He’d been sat there, as a truck the whole week, yearning for the life he’d left behind. Wanting to tell his parents what became of him.

Yet any time he tried to communicate, no words came out. Only the honking sound from his horn escaped his truck body. He’d even tried flashing a message in Morse Code with his headlights.

(-- --- -- --..-- / -.. .- -.. --..-- / .. - ... / -- . / .-- .... . . .-.. . .-.)

“Mom, Dad, it’s me Wheeler”

Yet it all went seemingly unnoticed. While Wheeler was near them, the practical barriers created by him being a truck made the distance insurmountable.

Wheeler ended up simply watching his home and reminiscing. He could see the whole building, his truck windscreen, mirrors and side windows, all acting as his eyes.

Every room was a box containing a thousand memories, triggered in his mind from the tiniest glances he could steal though the houses windows.

He watched as his parents continued on without him. Able to see them but no longer able to be a part of their lives.

He wanted to tell them he loved them, to hug them tightly one last time. He was so close, yet so far.

In this form, he’d never have anyway to truly return home. Well without charging though a wall anyway. He almost considered driving even nearer. So, his bumper touched the wall.

He resisted this impulse however, the risk of accidentally damaging the house or hurting someone was too great a risk for him to take.

After some time, Wheeler was snapped out of his daze by the piercing din of a siren, accompanied by flashing blue lights as a police car pulled up in front of him.

A wiry policeman climbed out the police cruiser, making a beeline straight for the Ford families front door.

The officer gave a very firm knock. *BANG BANG BANG* “It’s Officer Slaw, I received a call from here about a suspicious vehicle?”

Abraham opened the door, shaken slightly by how vigorously the officer hammered on his door “Officer Slaw! I wasn’t expecting you to be here so soon”.

“Well, I was in the neighbourhood... plus your son was killed by a truck. Then, not long after the tragedy, an unknown truck shows up outside your house? I have suspicions that these incidents may be connected.” Officer Slaw explained.

Overhearing this, Wheeler couldn’t deny the Officer was technically correct. The events were indeed connected.

He continued to monitor the ongoing conversation between Officer Slaw and his farther.

Officer Slaw pitched a scenario, “We still haven’t caught whoever was driving the truck that caused your son’s death. For all we know, whichever sick bastard did it parked that thing outside to mock you.”

Maria came over to join the conversation, her jaw dropped at the notion anyone could be that cruel, yet it made sense. “Is that why it keeps honking and flashing it’s headlights whenever we go past?”

“Could be.” Slaw considered.

Maria was shaking, “that’s sick”.

“It’s a sick world ma’am” Slaw responded. “Anyway, you folks got nothing to worry about, Officer Murphy Slaw is on the case now. You folks go inside and rest easy. Let me deal with this.” He gave the couple a salute.

“Ok Officer, thank you.” With that, Wheeler’s parents closed the door.

Wheeler started to panic as Officer Slaw began slowly approaching him to investigate. He considered driving off, but Slaw’s Police cruiser was parked in front of him, preventing a speedy getaway. Given the sheer size of Wheeler’s truck body, reversing wasn’t exactly practical either.

Wheeler wasn’t sure of the full scope of his abilities, what could he possibly do to escape? Whatever the case, He knew someone that did. He called out in his mind.

“ABEONA! ABEONA!”

Abeona’s voice once more came crackling over the radio “Oh look who finally decided to talk to me. It’s only been a frigging week jackass...”

“Abeona, I’m sorry but...” Wheeler started

Abeona oblivious to the unfolding situation, continued her rant. “I generously give you a second chance. A shot at that sweet isekai life you dreamed of, and what you do? Ghost me! A goddess like me? Ghosted by a ghost truck...”

“Abeona seriously, we’ve got a major problem here.” The cadence of Wheeler’s internal voice was becoming more frantic as Officer Slaw drew closer and closer.

The livid goddess still wasn’t listening. “Oh, I know you’ve got a major problem, it's called a lack of gratitude you jerk!”

Wheeler snapped “ABEONA!” His horn blared loudly, causing Slaw to stumble backwards, falling ass first onto the sidewalk.

“WHAT?” yelled Abeona.

“That police officer is suspicious of me; he knows something is up.” Wheeler kept his words hushed to not accidentally trigger his horn again.

Meanwhile, Slaw was scrambling to get up. He tried to peer into the cabin of the truck, but the windows were too heavily tinted for him to see inside.

“Who’s in there? Whoever you are, I am an officer of the law. I order you to disembark the vehicle”.

“Oh, you’re concerned about that guy?” Abeona laughed. “You almost had me worried it was something serious.”

“It is serious, he’s a cop!” Wheeler insisted.

Slaw had drawn his gun, and was slowly approaching Wheeler’s driver side door, barking orders. “Final warning, get out of the truck with your hands up.”

“How the hell do I get out of the truck when I am the truck?” Wheeler’s internal voice squeaked.

“You are Truck-Kun” Abeona giggled.

‘This isn’t a time to be cracking jokes.” Wheeler huffed.

Abeona’s voice was tinged with mischief. “Don’t worry Truck-Kun... I mean Wheeler. This isn’t gonna be a problem. In fact, it's gonna be fuuuuun.”