Nurse the Hate: The End of Steve Stephens

I saw the news in a small diner where I stopped for a quick bite.  I liked eating at the counter there.  It was a good place to blend in and disappear.  We stared at the TV screen where the news ran a recurring montage of social video from the murderer prior to his being apprehended.  In the end, it went like all murders of this type go, with the killer shooting himself in the head as police closed in.  The cops will call it “eating his gun” back at the station talking amongst themselves.  The police had haphazardly placed a yellow tarp over the suicide scene of the driver’s side of the car, which was a great annoyance to the news crew struggling to provide an image to drive “clicks” on the website.  A head blown open would certainly go viral and result in many pageviews.  The news helicopter hovered overhead hoping a gust of wind would expose the body.

Most of the people at the diner counter looked on at the video.  We were all strangers, but this type of excitement brought people together.  Everyone had an opinion.  The man to my left dipped his fries in ketchup and shifted in his stool.  “I’ll tell you what man…  I bet a dude shoots himself in the head in his car, nobody wants that fucking car.  I’m gonna offer that family $500 for that car to see if they take it.”   You aren’t freaked out by a bunch of blood soaked into a car seat and the carpet?  “Fuck no man.  I can call a buddy of mine at a wrecking yard, get a used front seat, rip the fucking carpet out and I’m good to go.”

Now at this point I’m fascinated that a man looks at a suicide after a short police chase and thinks, “This is a terrific used car buying opportunity!”.  I must delve into it further so I ask more questions.  So, let’s say the family, despite seeing their kin shoot himself right after committing a random murder on social media even wants to sell you the car… which I think is a big “if” by the way…  Aren’t you worried about bad karma or spirits?  “No way man!  Ghosts don’t live in cars.  They live in houses.”  I hadn't even considered the concept of a "haunted car".  So, you’re saying that if the ghost of Steven Stevie Steve Stephens even exists, you’re not concerned because he won’t stay in the car?

“Look man…  All you got to do is open the window and that ghost flies out.  Winds of the natural world move them around.  That’s why they live in houses, so the fucking wind doesn’t blow them out of there.  You just get on the highway and open it up.  No way a ghost can stay in that car.”  OK, so with this logic you are saying that if you have a haunted house, all you need to do to get rid of them is wait for some gale force winds or a hurricane, open all the windows, and then the spirits get blown out?  “That’s right man.  You get it.”  Well what about if you brought in some monster industrial fans?  “Nah.  That shit isn’t winds of nature.  They see the fans and float into a closet or shit.”  Yes, but isn’t wind from a fan going to move the air regardless?  “I don’t know man.  You hear about ghosts and shit on the East Coast and around here, but you ever hear of one in Oklahoma or Kansas where they have those fucking tornados all the time?  I don't know about any Florida ghosts.  That wind blows them outta there!”

So, you are saying ghosts float around if they get knocked out of a car or a house and then look for a place to shield them from the wind?  “Yeah.  They float about 15-20 mph.  Some are probably faster.  You know how they say cheetah run 50 mph?  How do we know that they didn’t time the one cheetah that was the LeBron James cheetah, and most of those cheetah only run about 40 mph?  I mean, you are a human and LeBron James is a human but I know that he can outrun you!  So maybe some ghosts can go 23 mph, but most are about 15-20.  They can’t catch a car.”  How come I’ve never seen a ghost floating down the sidewalk looking for a house to find shelter in then?  “I don’t know.  How the hell would I know where you drive?”  You see ghosts where you drive?  "Nah man.  I ain't never seen a ghost."

I took a bite of my omelet and wheat toast and thought it over carefully.  This guy had considered every option.  With the right amount of “willing suspension of disbelief”, he had a point.  I had lost him to his own thoughts.  He kept looking at the TV and the helicopter shot of the car.  He put his napkin down on the counter with a swift motion while shaking his head.  “Man, that car is way nicer than mine.  $500.  I bet they’d take it too.”