At the Crossroads

Hubert Michael Todd had never been a special man. He had not been a special child. Not once in his life had Hubert ever been called anything more than ordinary, mediocre, and plain.

Hubert was a simple man of 5'10 inches. His body was not as fit as it had been in his youth, but he retained a fit and comfortable physique. His deep auburn hairline had started to recede, but he was not balding to any extent. His eyes were as plain as him, grey leaning towards blue, but nothing special. Hubert lived in room number fourteen of the Spring Creek Apartments in the city of Bloomsdale, a small suburb of Chicago, Illinois. He worked in a small manufacturing plant just inside Chicago, called Marvelous White, which produced dental supplies. Hubert operated the machine that put holes in the end of the toothbrushes and made sure all the holes matched. He received a free toothbrush every two months and used that one until he received another, along with the free toothpaste he also received. He shopped at Dinkle's Grocer which was halfway between his apartment and the Marvelous White manufacturing plant. There he bought TV dinners and bottles of root beer which he ate for dinner every night but Tuesday. Tuesday, being Hubert's day off, he would go to eat at Smith's Steak House which resided around the corner from Spring Creek Apartments. Also on his free Tuesdays, Hubert would walk around his entire neighborhood, a thirty-two minute walk, to keep up his health.

Hubert Todd was thirty-seven years old and for the past twelve years he had worked on the same machine, in the same manufacturing plant, drove the same ocean blue '90 Ford Aspire, lived in the same one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and ate the same TV dinners and root beer every day, for all of them.

And this day, the sixth of June, was no different. Hubert woke in his apartment, brushed his teeth with a lime green complimentary tooth brush, dressed in a plain grey suit, and drove to work. For the next eight hours, minus a lunch hour, he pushed a small red button over and over again, before getting of at 5:30pm. Then he drove to Dinkle's Grocer and picked up a meatloaf TV dinner with peas, carrots, and a small brownie that would bake in the plastic tray, and a bottle of A&W root beer. He bought these items, seven dollars and twenty-four cents, and then started driving home. That was when this day became different.

A broken glass bottle, dropped from a car speeding along the road the night before, pierced and damaged the right front tire of Hubert's Aspire, causing a flat. He pulled to the side of the road, ten minutes from the Spring Creek Apartment Complex. Hubert didn't have a cell phone, he had never needed one, and the same could be said about a spare tire. So he sat in his passenger seat, door open and legs out, watching the blue sky and waiting for someone to drive by who could help him.

It was several minutes later when the wind began to blow. It came from the South-West and gained power quickly so in just a few moments Hubert could see dark clouds gathering overhead. Rain looked imminent, and Hubert was keen to not be on the side of the road when it started, for he had no umbrella. Bright light from behind Hubert startled him and he turned to find himself staring into the headlights of a very glossy black car. Hubert drew a hand up over his eyes to shield them from the light, and then walked toward the car, glad that someone had come along to help him.

The back door closest to Hubert opened and a black shoe, as shiny as the car, slipped out onto the ground. A man emerged from the sleek car. He was tall, taller than Hubert which put him at about 6'3, and very slender. His skin was a pale ivory accented by striking black hair in a style that looked like Clark Gable come back to life. His suit was fine, tailored to his body, and a dark grey pinstripe. He looked like he should have been in a fancy 50's club somewhere, not on the side of the road helping Hubert Todd.

The man smiled at Hubert, showing perfect white teeth. "Evening Sir." His voice was warm and soft like something you could touch, something you could wrap around you to keep warm. "Having a little car trouble?"

Hubert swallowed and nodded, the man's finery making him a bit nervous. "I got a flat tire, and no spare." He gave a weak chuckle, but then was silent. The man didn't seem to notice his discomfort, but went on smiling.

"I see, would you like some assistance, Hubert?" He seemed very eager to help and Hubert lost a little of his discomfort, and started to nod. Then he realized he hadn't given the strange man his name. Hubert took a step back, suddenly a little freighted of the clean cut man.

"How did you know my name is Hubert?" He asked, unable to keep the shaking from his voice.

The man laughed, sending shivers down Hubert's back, then his face returned to a smile, but it looked malicious in the strange lighting. "I know much more than that about you Hubert Michael Todd. I've been watching you." Hubert was ready to bolt, sweat beaded on his forehead and his muscles were tight. "I'd like to help you,"

"Help me?" Hubert swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat wouldn't go away. "What do you mean?"

The man snapped and the black car's headlights went out. Hubert was left blinking in the sudden shadow, trying to regain his bearings. When he could see again the man in the pinstripe suit was still smiling at him. "I know all about you Hubert. I know your parents, Roger and Malinda Todd, didn't have a lot of money to send you to school, but being a smart boy you got into Illinois State on a full scholarship. I know that college was the best time of your life, and I know that you fell in love." Hubert had almost stopped breathing. Who was this man, and how did he know all this about him?

"Who are you?" Hubert's voice was breathy as if he had been running for miles. The man didn't seem dissuaded by Hubert's unnerve, almost seeming fueled by it.

"You can call me Mr. Applegate, but we're still talking about you Hubert." Hubert wanted to take another step back, but wasn't able to. He was stuck, and very afraid. "You fell in love with the young Miss Alberta Cook. You were engaged to that young woman in fact, but then she went to Europe to see her dying uncle." He sighed. Hubert had lost some of his fright, a stronger emotion taking over, sorrow. "When did you see her again?"

Hubert choked. "Never. I never saw her after that." He had really loved Alberta, but then she had just gotten on a plane and never came back. It had broken Hubert's heart, and was the reason a psychology major like him was pushing a red button for a living.

But although this was becoming harder for Hubert, Mr. Applegate seemed to glow in his self pity and sorrow. "Would you like to have her back?" He asked voice like honey, sticky and sweet, so you never want to stop listening.

Hubert looked up at the man, eyes blank. "What do you mean?" How could this man say something so hurtful, and then mock him? It was almost too much for Hubert to bear.

"What if I could give her back to you, the way you had her all those years ago?" Applegate's eyes seemed to glow with some inner light, but it may just have been Hubert's imagination. "What would you give for that?"

Hubert blinked at him. What would he give to have Alberta back? The real question was what wouldn't he give? "I'd give anything, anything to have her back."

Mr. Applegate smiled wider, the look becoming malicious again, but only for a moment. "Splendid," He pulled a paper from the coat and a red fountain pen, holding the pen out to Hubert. "Sign here, if you will." He said, pointing to a line on the paper.

Hubert took the pen, but was confused. "What for?" He asked, even as he signed his name: Hubert Michael Todd, on the paper in red ink.

"Security purposes, that's all." Applegate said, taking the pen back and tucking both into his coat. He snapped again and the sound of the Aspire's engine starting on it's own spun Hubert around. He ran to the car, finding the tire repaired. He was amazed, and knew it must have been Applegate.

"Hey thanks…" he said as he turned, but his words dropped off as he found the road empty. No sleek black car, no man with a Clark Gable hair style, not even tire tracks in the loose dust.

I'd like to continue this, see what happens to Hubert after his little, deal with the devil.

Evil laugh

Anyway, read and review and such!

Vicktoria