I’m starting to think calling an Uber to move the body was a mistake. The body stinks. It smells like my grandmother’s house… but soggier. Adam insists it’s a good idea.
“They can’t judge us. What are they going to say? ‘Hey. Why does your bag smell so bad?’ That would be an instant 1-star rating.”
We lug the oversized duffle bag out of the warehouse and drop it on the side of the gravel road. The bag is the size of myself.
“Their job is to get people from point A to point B,” Adam continues. “Not to ask questions… Look. Balinda is arriving.”
We watch as our Uber rumbles down the road and into the abandoned lot. It's a teal-ish 2008 Toyota Camry with a frizzy-haired woman sitting in the driver’s seat. She rolls down her window and pokes out her head.
“Are you Adam?” she says.
Great. She knows his real name.
“Yep,” Adam says. “And this is my friend George.” And now she knows mine. “Could you open the trunk?”
The trunk pops open and we drag the body bag around to the back. On three, we lift it up and drop it in the trunk with a thud. Adam climbs into the front seat and I slide into the back. I hope Balinda doesn’t get a good look at me.
“Thanks for picking us up,” Adam says. “Busy day so far?”
“You’re actually my first pick-up,” she says. She adjusts her rearview mirror and we make eye contact. “I thought there was an error on my maps when it showed me this location. I didn’t know this was out here.”
I look out at the lonely warehouse standing in the middle of the abandoned lot. Most people don’t know about it. It’s perfectly tucked between trailer parks and the white picket fence communities. Right between people who no one cares about it and people who don’t want to be bothered. It’s the perfect place for the mob to make business deals and cleaners to clean things when business deals get messy. Cleaners like Adam and me.
Balinda pulls out of the lot and slams on the brakes. A car honks as it zips around her. The body bag slides in the trunk and slams against the walls.
“Yikes. Was that your bag?” Balinda says.
“Oh no. That was nothing,” I say.
“Should we stop?” she continues.
“Oh, definitely not,” Adam says. “That bag is fine. You see, George back there is an aspiring filmmaker. Thinks he’s a Scorsese-type. That’s his camera equipment in the bag and he pads it all up with cushions. It should be totally fine. Shoot, that’s why we were at the warehouse. He swears it's the perfect place to get shots and stuff. We were out filming this morning and then after, wouldn’t you know it, my car wouldn’t start.”
I respect how in one swoop Adam comes up with a reason for the unusual bag and an alibi for the warehouse location. He’s good at this. Enjoys it even. With a dead body in the car, I would think to keep a low profile, but he feeds Balinda false information.
“Well, that’s awesome,” Balinda says. She glances back at me. “What’s your favorite movie?”
I’m no Adam. “Uh.” I think for a second. “You know, that one movie where people go inside that guy’s head? He’s an actor or something. It has that bald guy in it.”
“Being John Malkovich?” Adam says. “That’s your favorite movie?”
“That’s the one. I don’t think I’ve ever finished it, but I like it a lot.”
“I don’t think I have seen that—”
Balinda slams on the brakes again. We all jerk forward and the body bag clangs and bangs in the trunk.
Poor body.
“Sorry. Red light.” She points up. “But, as I was saying, if you want to be director or something, I say go for it. I think too many people play it safe and never pursue what they really want to do.”
I nod my head. I just want to make it out of the car alive without Balinda finding out she’s moving a dead body.
Adam continues small-talking her, as she drives onto the interstate. She takes a route that we normally never take. We usually stick to the back roads, but I wasn’t about to tell Balinda how to drive.
“So how much do you like being an Uber driver?” Adam says to her. “I’ve been thinking about becoming one myself. I obviously need a more reliable car, though.”
“Oh. I love it. It’s the greatest job I’ve ever had.”
“Really?” Adam says.
“Oh yes. I used to work at a big firm downtown, for fifteen years or so, but I don’t know. It just… It just never really clicked with me. Never felt like the place I wanted to be. I was content, but I wasn’t happy. Does that make sense? It was like I was waking up every day, not wanting to go to my job, ya know? And so I quit one day. Just came in and quit. I had to search for a new job for a while, but one day I heard about Uber and thought I would give it a try. I have been Uber-ing ever since.”
I lean forward in my seat.
“So, you just quit one day?” Adam continues.
“Yep. I had been thinking about it for a while, but one day I just woke up, and made a decision. I said, ‘Today’s the day. I’m not doing this anymore.’”
“Wow,” Adam says. “And you didn’t know exactly what you were going to do next?”
Balinda laughs. “Not at all. It was kind of crazy, and I struggled for a little bit. But it was worth it. I think being lost is underrated. I think it's better to be lost than to be somewhere you don’t want to be.”
I slowly fall back in my seat.
“Well that’s awesome,” Adam says.
“Yeah,” Balinda says. “I like to think that I’m a people person. I enjoy meeting new people. I like talking to people. I like hearing their stories and their problems. I like listening. You know, Uber just seemed perfect for me.”
Balinda honks her horn at a car trying to get over.
She shakes her head. “So many bad drivers out today.”
Adam looks back at me and then turns back to Balinda. “Well, you know what, when I get home, I think I’m going to sign up to be an Uber driver. You’ve inspired me.”
Balinda smiles. “I can’t remember if they ask for recommendations, but if you need one, I’ll give you — oh, wait.”
Balinda swerves over three lanes and cuts off a car, just in time to make an exit. A car’s horn drowns out the sound of the body bag bouncing in the back. Noise or not, I feel it bump up against my seat.
“I’ll give you one.” Balinda smiles again.
She takes us off the interstate and slows the car down. She puts the car in park at an empty pier on the river.
“This is it,” she says. She clicks a button on her Uber phone. “More filming?” Her door opens. “Let me help you boys out.”
“Oh no, we got it.” Adam shuffles out the car and scurries to the back. “It’s very delicate equipment. I think we got it. Help me out, man.”
I grab one end and we lift it onto the sidewalk. It lands with a thud.
Balinda smiles again. “Well, you boys stay safe. Good luck with becoming a director and good luck with becoming an Uber driver.”
“Thanks Balinda,” Adam says. He waves as she drives away. Then his smile drops. “Damn. She could talk.”
Adam pulls two masks out of his back pocket and tosses me one. We cover our face and carry the body bag through the empty pier and to the edge of the river. Adam unzips the bag and the stench rushes out like a geyser. I put my finger under my nose and turn away.
“Let’s fill her up,” he says.
We grab a couple cinder blocks to pack the bag and help it sink faster. I turn my face every time I get close to the bag and try to pack the blocks without looking. I assume the beating the bag took has probably left the body in pieces. I get one block in fine, but as I place the second block, it gets caught in the bag straps. I try to plop the bag upright and have it drop in — and it works — but I catch a glimpse of the face. The face is perfectly fine. The face looks untouched. It lies in the bag with its eyes closed.
The face is mine.
I rip off my mask and touch my own face on my own body. It's there. And in the bag. I’m alive. And dead.
“That should be good,” Adam says. He zips up the bag.
I don’t move. I can’t hear anything. I can’t hear the words Adam are saying or the river in the distance.
“Why the hell you got your mask off?” Adam says. “There could be cameras around here.”
I blink twice.
“You alright?” Adam says.
I find my breath. “Adam, I… ” I lose it again.
“What?”
“I think… I think I’m done. I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”
“Done?”
“Yeah. I think I’m done. I think I’m out.”
“Out? You serious?”
“Yeah. I think so.” I take a step back. “I just… I just don’t think this is what I want.”
Adam glances around and then glares at me. He pulls a gun out of his waist and puts the barrel right in my line of vision. The long black abysmal chamber seems to get wider the longer he holds it up. “I can’t let you out man. You know, I can’t do this alone.”
“Adam—”
“Don’t Adam, me! You ain’t goin nowhere man. We came in this together and we’re leaving this together. Either that, or you end up in a body bag, like our friend here.” He nudges the bag. “You can’t be out. I can’t let you.”
“Adam, I just think—”
“Stop talking and move the fuckin’ body. Pick it up and toss it in the river.”
The sound of the drifting river flows into my ear. I look at the bag and back at Adam.
“No. I won’t. I won’t do it. Sorry Adam, but I am done.”
The gun shakes in Adam’s hand, but his glare remains still. I close my eyes.
Then, I hear laughter.
“Got cha,” Adam says and laughs harder. “Had you fooled for a second there. Bro, you don’t gotta do this if you don’t want to. Moving dead bodies is weird as shit. I don’t know why you were doing it with me in the first place. If you want out, that’s totally cool.” He tucks his gun away.
I shake my head. “You’re not mad?”
“Fuck no man. I’ve been waiting for this day. That Santiago kid has been begging me to go on assignments for damn near a year now. I’m sure he’ll be happy to take your spot. Might learn a thing or two.”
“Well, cool. Thanks man. Thanks for understanding.”
We grasp hands and he wraps his arm around me.
“You sure you don’t want to do one last toss?” he says.
I let go of the embrace and let out a breath. “Naw. I’m not doing this anymore.”
Adam nods his head. “I respect that man. I’m happy for ya. You want me to call you an Uber?”
I look around. I have no idea where I am at or where I am going. “You know what, I’m alright. I’m just going to walk.”
“Well, good luck man. I don’t know what you got planned, but if you need a recommendation, I’ll give you one.”
I smile and nod my head. As I walk away, I hear Adam lift the bag up and down. There is no thud sound, just the sound of cinder blocks colliding with the ground. I hear the bag unzip and Adam say, “Finally.”
This article appears in Mar 28 – Apr 4, 2019.