Dads old chevy

John was letting out a little steam, power shifting the gears in his dad’s old Chevy pickup. He took the backroad off of highway 63. Clouds of dust filled the air, as the tires dug into the dirt road. The motor growled, as he revved the engine and slammed the stick into 3rd gear. John’s father had passed away 6 months ago. The only thing he left behind was his prize Chevy.

“You are going to break my god damn tranny. I’m the only one who can power shift my truck”.

“Screw you, you old bastard. The smell of sweat and old spice filled the cab. His father’s old shirt was still tucked behind the driver’s seat. In all this time, John just couldn’t bring himself to clean out the truck. “If you showered more often you wouldn’t need all that cologne” The motor roared again as he slammed the stick into 4th gear. “Fuck Fuck Fuuuuk!“

He screamed over the roar of the motor until his throat burned. “Man it was good to get that out”. John cracked a small smile. He had barely finished wiping the tears from his eyes when he saw the cow. His right hand gripped tightly on the shifter as he downshifted 3rd gear. It didn’t want to go in at first but he forced it in. His left hand cranked the wheel is desperation. He slammed on the brakes with both feet. “Shit I’m not going to make it”. The transmission whined in protest. The truck starting sliding sideways. There was a sharp crackle of blue light and then everything went black.

John awoke, still behind the wheel. His foot slipped in a puddle of oil as soon as he stepped out of the truck. He steadied himself as he made his way up to the front. “No damage hmm.” There was a cornfield on the left side with some dried corn ready to be harvested, and a fenced-in field to his right that housed several pigs. The air smelled of pig manure and burnt metal. “What in damn hell?” He tried to start the truck. Click. Click. He pulled the hood cable. “I told you dumbass. You can’t handle my truck”. He banged on the hood, partly in frustration, and partly to release the latch. The motor was mangled, covered in oil. “What in damn hell? John searched the area once again. Where was that freaking cow?” He must have hit it. There was no way he could have stopped in time, yet there wasn’t a scratch on the truck. John pulled out his cell phone to call Lisa. Hopefully, she would be able to pick him up. If not it would mean a five-mile walk home.

Over an hour had gone by when Lisa’s truck came into view. She was always late. She was even late for their wedding. She pulled the truck up and rolled down the window “Are you ok. I got here as soon as I could.”

“Well, it took you long enough, god damn it”. Lisa’s face clenched, but she didn’t respond. He knew she didn’t deserve that. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. On the way back to the farm he told her the story about the cow in the road, and how he broke his dad’s truck. “Thank God you didn’t get hurt and you didn’t hurt anything else either. Who cares about the truck?” Lisa always had a positive way to look at things. It’s one of the things that he loved about her. “Let’s just get home, you’ll take a nice hot shower and I will have dinner ready by the time you get out.”

John stood in the shower letting the steaming hot water wash over him. He had a hard time processing the events that had taken place. He heard a rough knock on the door. “How long are you going to run that water Dumbass? You’re going to drown if you stay in there much longer.”

“Great, now I am hearing things”. Nervously he shut off the water, dried himself off and put some clothes on. He slowly opened the door and stepped out into the dining room. He used the wall to hold himself up as his knees started to buckle. Sitting at the head of the table was his father, stuffing a biscuit into his mouth. John just stood there staring at his father. He wanted to speak but the words got caught in the base of his throat.

“Why are you acting so strange? Go sit down and eat with your father.” He glared at Lisa. She was there, standing right next to him when they lowered his father’s casket into the ground. “What in Damn hell? There is no way I could have missed that cow.”

“Daddy come sit down”. He didn’t even see her there. He was so distracted by the sight of his father that he didn’t notice the little girl sitting at the other end of the table. “Daddy?” The doctor told him that it was impossible for them to have children. The room started to spin. “Daddy?” No longer able to hold himself up he collapsed to the floor.

Ned was finishing up his shift at Kronos Inc. There had not been an anomaly in over 180 resets. He was daydreaming when the warning alert snapped him back into the moment. Someone had been outside of the barrier during the reset. Due to the paradox of time travel, time lines would often be reset due to changes made in the past. Most time travelers were careful not to change anything but, sometimes they made mistakes. Most people were not even aware of these changes in their reality. At best they retained glimpses of their former realities. Anyone outside of the barrier, at the time of the reset, would fully retain all the memories of their last reality. Ned identified the person as John Baker. He collected all the information and forwarded it over to the special ops. Ned didn’t know the details but he knew that they would handle the situation. It was not in Kronos Inc.’s best interest to have people running around who could guess the truth.

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This story was an entry into a contest hosted by @originalworks and @Thewritersblock. The story is based on some aspect of " The Mandela Effect" The original post was posted by @rhondak . The Details of the post can be found here https://steemit.com/fiction/@rhondak/writing-contest-mandela-effect-usd30-sbd-in-total-prizes

Animation by @malos10