The Car Disposal
Between feeding the wild animals, Ethel, Jose and himself, the remains would soon disappear. Bob was worried about the cars though. Both cars were in his neighborhood. He was worried about Allison’s car especially. The trio had a chat room and he was really worried that investigators might find that she chatted with him. They might even have an appointment log online somewhere. Bob became paranoid. He decided to dump the car in San Francisco somewhere. But he was scared and did not know if police had the license plate number. He cleaned the car with bleach and removed all personal effects. He decided to go park it in a different city and go abandon it in Oakland instead. At first, he thought he would take it to a junkyard, but then he didn’t want any record of him with the car-he had watched too many of those crime scene dramas and was paranoid. He decided to take his shotgun with him for protection. It was sawed off and so not very big. He knew Oakland well, as he used to live there for a few years. He found an industrial area that was not too far from houses and had a bus line a few blocks away. That area was notorious for car theft and a good car left out at night was a sitting target. It would be stolen very quickly. He had thought of sending it to a chop shop or a junkyard. But he didn’t know of any chop shops that took in strange cars without any questions. He didn’t exactly hang out in criminal circles. He decided he would park there and walk away to the bus line. That area was not very populated, although in a very rough area, but close to the bus. He would take the bus back to the BART train and then take get off and take the Golden Gate transit bus back to home.
Bob started the drive to Oakland. He was very nervous of being caught. He had followed the same procedure as Candace. So far no missing persons reports in the chatter and volunteer groups. Perhaps they were runaways and nobody missed them? He laughed and wondered if anyone would care if he went missing. Perhaps Stacey might care because of the stop in child support and alimony payments –but otherwise would anyone care? Ethel only seemed to remember the names of her horses and didn’t seem to care about humans much. Bob slowly made his way onto the bridge and reached the 80 freeway and slowly reached his desired exit. He drove a few city streets and absolutely kept under the speed limit. He didn’t want to go too slow, as that might attract attention. He hid his shotgun under the seat and threw a coat over it.
Bob arrived at this street and looked around. It was isolated. There weren’t any people there and he parked and turned off the lights. He had worn gloves, so as to not leave any evidence. Bob took a deep breath, left the window slightly open and took his coat and gun. He hid the gun under his coat and started walking. He took the keys-that would be too easy and a would-be thief might suspect something or so he thought. Bob walked away quickly and he could see the bus line. This area was bad and was a known drug and violent area. He could hear very loud music, but that was quite common in this area. But this side was less populated and then as he reached the end and turned a corner, he saw three men beating another man. The downed man was bleeding profusely and hunched over in a fetal position. Two of the assailants had gold chains on and the other was tattooed all over. A boom box on the sidewalk was blaring loud music. No wonder he did not hear the screams or perhaps the victim was gagged or unconscious. Bob’s heart skipped a beat. One of the three noticed Bob and then all three noticed Bob.
Bob was terrified. Were these drug dealers? He knew this area and usually there were not any people, except some homeless, as it was not a residential area, just close to one. Perhaps they lived in the abandoned old factory? Maybe they stashed their drugs there? Bob’s other self-started to emerge as the three men walked towards him yelling obscenities. Bob was petrified, then enraged, then angry and then he licked his lips and laughed. Something else took him over. He ducked back around the corner and took the shotgun out. He jumped back and shot the first one. The eyes of the other men turned as big as saucers. They did not expect this from a balding, grey haired middle-aged thin decent looking man. Bob shot the other one too and the third one raised his hands over his shoulders and knelt down.” Hey we were just playing with you man, chill –we didn’t mean anything” said the man. “Face the ground” yelled Bob. “Ok man, ok, don’t shoot” said the guy. As the guy faced the ground, Bob shot him in the face and the guy slumped over. The victim on the ground who was being beaten stood up and looked at Bob. Bob shot him too-he was in a frenzy. Bob then shot the other men again multiple times and made sure they were dead. He then shot at the victim and made sure he was dead too. “Good thing I bought some extra ammo” Bob thought.
Bob looked at all four and was transfixed. The adrenalin was flowing and Bob was in some strange trance like state. “Perhaps this is how the old warriors felt” Bob thought. It was a strange energy-a sort of controlled rage, primal instinct and he was ready to kill anyone who came in his way. A breeze picked up and Bob came back to his normal self. Panic struck him. He couldn’t realize if he wanted to go to the bus or go back to the car. Then he wondered if he had some blood on him and looked at himself. Yes he had a lot of blood. Bob felt a surge of panic hit his gut and his mind lost its equilibrium. He started to cry, became like a child and was terrified. Then something deeper and darker took over and he fled the scene towards the car. He could feel panic, anger, fear, terror, rage and a sense of control all at the same time. Bob reached the car and got in it. He fumbled for the keys and finally found them. His hands were shivering and he could barely put the keys in the ignition. He felt like throwing up, but then his mind swooped in and took control. He turned on the key and drove to the exit. Bob was nervous. He turned on the A/C full blast, as he felt very hot. He got on the freeway and took the exit to take the Richmond Bridge back home and then realized he would have to stop at the tollbooth and pay the toll and he was pretty sure they had cameras. What if the tollbooth operator saw his bloody clothes? “Let’s shoot him too,” a voice in his head said. Bob laughed, feeling omnipotent. For the first time in his life, he felt in control of his life and circumstances. Bob took an exit before the bridge and doubled back and rejoined the 80-freeway and then took the 37-freeway exit. That would connect him to the 101 and back home to the woods in Sonoma County.
Bob was driving along, careful not to exceed the speed limit or drive too slow. His inner state was getting a little more composed and he slowly started to relax. He turned the music on and went on to the AM news stations. “Breaking news- Four men shot dead and at this time police believe it to be gang related violence,” said the news announcer. Bob froze. It had been an hour and half after the shooting. Between the traffic and detour, he had taken some time. Bob started sweating and panicking. Did he leave any evidence behind? Did any of them survive? He shot them and made sure that they were dead, but his mind started to play tricks on him. Perhaps the police department hired a medium or a psychic like that show on TV? Was that stuff real? Perhaps advance medicine could resuscitate them if only for a minute? Bob’s mind swept into a frenzy of erratic thought. The real and the bizarre and scenes from TV all merged to form one giant nebulous reality for him-indistinguishable from each other. Bob started screaming and yelling and talking to himself. Parts of him were raging, others close to a breakdown, yet others crying and terrified and yet something was holding it all together. Then the sirens came on behind him-it was a police car, with full sirens on.
Bob’s multiple voices came to a screeching halt. Then they burst forth again. Had he been caught, did they trace him; perhaps satellites in the sky trace every person? His mind was splitting apart in so many directions. “Shut up” screamed a loud voice, “We took care of four gangsters, one cop is not going to be difficult” Bob heard a voice say in his head. Bob smirked and laughed. He felt like some wild outlaw in the West. How he wished he had a scarf that he could tie around his neck-he wanted to look like one. Bob had forgotten to hide the shotgun and it still was loaded. He pulled over, waiting for the police to come to a stop behind him. But the police-it was Highway Patrol- zoomed past him. Bob was puzzled
. Were they setting a trap for him? Did they know he was armed and dangerous and so were there a multitude of cars waiting for him ahead? Bob continued slowly behind the car. It was dark and he could see the flashing lights and just as he was about to pick up speed, another bigger vehicle with flashing lights came up behind him. Bob pulled over, with the gun ready to fire. It was an ambulance. Bob relaxed somewhat – perhaps there was an accident. He hid the gun under his coat, but kept it in the passenger seat and drove on. Nervous, but quiet. Then he could see the Highway patrol car and the ambulance stop in the distance and as he came closer, saw an SUV upside down in the gulley. It had probably veered off-it happened sometimes on this stretch. Bob slowed down and slowly passed by. The officer was directing him forward and he slowly passed by. Bob was nervous if the officer would see his blood stained clothes, but the officer was barely looking at him. Bob passed on, very relieved. He reached his home late at night and went to sleep bloody clothes and all –after parking the car in the hiding place.
Bob did not wake up till late afternoon. When he woke up, it was raining outside. Bob woke up and almost felt like he was in a dream. The events of the last night were still fresh. Bob sat in the bed for half an hour. He noticed the blood stained clothes and stared at the blood intently. He was now really worried about what was happening to him. Perhaps he should have gone to a doctor? But he couldn’t go now-what could he tell them, “Hey, I just killed close to ten people and don’t feel guilty at all-why is that doc?” Bob chuckled imagining the look on the doctor’s face. Bob went to the shower and showered and then took his blood stained clothes and tossed them onto the wood furnace. He was now worried. The rain stopped. Bob still had a few meat pies left and heated up two in the microwave and ate them. He chuckled again and realized he had just eaten human meat.
Bob freshened up and decided to head to his favorite spot- the Sonoma coast. He took his own car and drove slowly. He couldn’t understand what was going on. The faces of Allison and Candace and all the guys started to float before him. He started worrying. Now he was really worried about the killings in Oakland. He pulled over and checked the internet through his phone. The four murders were big news, but police still said it was gang violence. Bob suddenly realized he had to get rid of the shotgun, but then decided he would do it later. Something was drawing him to the coast. That was the area he always went to, to find peace. It soothed him, the wild and rugged coastline, the lack of people, and the wild waves hurtling towards the shore. He even saw a gray whale once. It was lovely, somber place where mundane human considerations almost ceased to exist. Nature in her eternal cycles was in full display.
Bob parked his car and slowly walked to the edge of a cliff. This was one of his favorite spots. It wasn’t a tall cliff, but protruded into the ocean for about hundred feet. Maybe about fifty feet above sea level. The violent, thrashing waves rushed on both sides and it made him feel part of the ocean and land. He often forgot himself and felt he was part of something bigger. The rains had stopped, but the night sky was clogged with dark clouds. It made it seem even more otherworldly. Bob lay down and started drifting away. What was happening to him? Why did he not feel guilty? He would feel guilty even if he arrived two minutes late for an appointment. He always felt guilty, even if said no to anybody. He had to come up with some white lie to make it seem like there was a genuine reason he was turning them down. He really had a problem saying no, being wrong and had this overwhelming need to be right and be a good person. Why did he not feel guilty?
Bob kept staring at the sky and listening to the waves hoping for an answer. Yet none came forth. He couldn’t muster up the guilt. He thought about the warriors of the last centuries. Brutal men who lived and died by the sword or gun. Did they feel guilty? What about the guy who dropped the bomb at Hiroshima? Did he feel guilty? Then Bob thought of the meat pies. He marveled at the similarities between humans and animals. He thought about cannibalistic societies. Did they have human meat recipes passed down the generations? Did they enjoy BBQ human ribs or steak? Perhaps they mixed it with rice in some sort of curry? Bob snapped back and sat up. Why was he thinking like this? “You just killed a bunch of folks, you fool” a voice sneered, “But I didn’t mean to, I just, I just,” “You just what” the voice sneered again. Bob became quiet as the voices took over and argued within him. Then he noticed the waves and the dark sky and became quiet again. He wondered if not eating human was merely a cultural taboo? After all in some countries eating cow or pork was taboo? But otherwise it tasted so good- not just him- Ethel and Jose loved human meat pie, even though they did not know what it was.
Bob was deeply engrossed in his inner mental ramblings. He wondered if humans are being bred like animals. Today’s factory farmed animals in no way resembled the animals of just a few generations ago. Turkeys were bred with breasts so big, that they could barely walk. Pigs were kept in tiny crates and most dairy calves barely knew their mothers, before they were removed. Animals were bred for the system, to make them most efficient and to keep them that way; any number of drugs would be used. He wondered if humans too were being bred in some unconscious way to be slaves to the big corporations. To just toil along with no feelings. To work like him for decades and then be deferential when tossed aside like a piece of garbage and actually help the person who is tossing you aside. Would primitive, tribal cultures ever agree to something like this-the ones most people called savages. Perhaps civilization slowly selected for compliant, reliable people. People with an individual streak were tossed to the fringes of society, drugged up and made into bad people. When some higher up authority asks you to kill someone-you kill them without even asking or knowing why. Yet you as an individual could not do so. Perhaps this is what society needed to be, for it to be function with millions of folks doing their jobs in the belief that some mythical all knowing leader knows everything and does everything for the common good.
Then what had happened to him, Bob wondered. Why did he feel so powerful and so normal about killing people? Why did he feel human again? Why did he feel so empowered and alive? Perhaps the animals had it better? Their cages are real and in the physical realm. Humans’ cages are mental. Ideas and beliefs, good and bad are drilled into them with constant rewards and punishments to reinforce the belief of right and wrong. By the time you grow up, the mind draws the fences. The animal on the other hand can flee if the fence falls down. Perhaps his mental fence had fallen down. Perhaps his mind had broken down because he had done everything right and yet everything wrong had happened to him. Perhaps his mental cages could not contain himself anymore? If those beliefs were not real, then what was real?? What is right and wrong? What is reality? Bob heard a noise and sat up again. He looked intently and it was skunk. Bob got up and walked away – he did not want to be sprayed. Bob walked back to the car- in a few hours the no parking hours would kick in and he did not want to attract attention. Bob’s mind kept wandering in many directions. He was angry, sad, despondent, powerful and sometimes felt all the things at the same time. But he was alive and he had never felt so alive before.
Bob suddenly remembered he had to get rid of both cars behind his cabin and rushed back to his home. As he pulled up, he saw a big pickup truck. It was Olaf Swensson. Olaf was the local plumber. A big imposing figure that was very dominating and enjoyed throwing his weight around to little men like Bob. He was married to Gertrude, who was tiny and sweet as apple pie. She barely spoke a word and was very quiet. Bob was always very deferential to Olaf and Olaf always sensed that. He always made jokes about Bob and was very rude and condescending. Bob took it meekly, always trying to please and get along and not raise a scene and appear as non-threatening as possible. Olaf came here occasionally to fix things for Ethel or his cabin. Olaf would just barge in and start guffawing and bellowing orders at Bob. He would then ask Bob to come with him and accompany him on his rounds. Bob never knew how to say no and always complied. Bob usually saw his truck and ran to the back exit and went hiking. He did t
hat a lot. Bob would then hide in the woods, waiting for Olaf to tire and go away. But some days, Olaf would catch Bob before he could flee or as he was coming in and Bob wasted half his day hanging with Olaf. Bob pretended to like Olaf and Olaf actually thought of him as a dear friend.
“Hi there boy, what ya been up to” bellowed Olaf upon seeing Bob exit. Bob would normally smile and ingratiate himself to Olaf. But this time, he could not bring himself to do it. He stared at Olaf and gave a cold icy smile. Olaf got a call from someone and he hurried along. Bob was stunned and wondered what had brought the change? Usually Olaf would shower him with insults, pretending to be joking and then dragged him along for the rest of the workday. Bob had been bothered by Olaf for a long time and did not know what to do. But now he decided he would take care of him once and for all.
Bob ran into the house and got his shotgun and his coat. It was fully loaded. Bob followed Olaf. It didn’t have too many turnoffs for a long while and Bob caught up with the truck, but it turned away from Olaf’s home. Perhaps Olaf was going to see a customer? But then Olaf made a turn into a dirt road. This was Olaf’s home too, but he usually rented it out. Olaf had bought Bob here and made him stand around while working on things. Bob could never muster the courage to say no. In a sad way, this further isolated Bob. He kept away from most people that could take a hint and dense bullies like Olaf got closer to him as they did not take subtle hints. Even if he was direct, they came up with something-they needed inner strength to make them back off and Bob decided he was going to show him how strong he was. The cabin was just a few feet from the main road, but at an angle –so you couldn’t see. Bob parked his car off road in the woods slightly hidden by branches. Bob got his coat and his shotgun and walked towards the cabin. He saw Olaf getting out and greeted by a young boy. Olaf took in runaway kids-mostly boys and he helped them get started. He was very tough on them, but he claimed this is what made them men. Olaf slapped the boy real hard. Bob was momentarily stunned. Olaf then started yelling at him about calling him without permission unless it was emergency. The boy mumbled something crying at the same time. Bob got closer through the woods and stepped on a branch that cracked. Both Olaf and the boy heard it and walked towards Bob. Bob hid behind a wide tree and got the shotgun ready. “Probably a damn raccoon” said Olaf. Yeah, said the boy. “Look you are more trouble than you are worth, I pay you, feed you and ask you to do some work and you can’t get that right?” Olaf thundered. “There is no food left,” said the boy still sobbing. The boy seemed erratic in his speech. Bob had noticed that before. On occasion, Olaf took in these runaway boys who seemed very odd acting with a glazed look in their eyes. The gossip around town was that he was sleeping with them, but Bob was never the kind to listen to gossip. Olaf hurled insults at the boy and the boy kept sobbing. Finally Olaf hugged him and started making out –Bob got the courage to peek out and was stunned. So this was his secret? Hire drug addicted runaways and molest them? Well most looked over the legal age, but they looked desperate-I guess there is no smoke without fire. Then he realized what he had seen in the boy-himself. Olaf was an expert at finding selfless boys like him and then probably slowly started out joking insults and then made that person feel worthless and finally had them submit-at least until they got the courage to run away again. Now he understood Gertrude-probably had the life sucked out of her. While Olaf had never put the moves on him, he probably took pleasure in emotionally molesting him. He was about to shoot him, when he got a different idea and Bob smiled. He carefully went back to his car and drove away.
He would take care of Olaf in a different way. This was different. Before he reacted out of panic, but now Bob was shifting into deliberative thought and action. Bob first needed to get rid of the cars. Then he realized he had Allison’s cell phone. He decided on a plan of action. He cleaned the car and bleached it and then washed it again and left it to dry. He charged up her cell phone. Bob had helped Gertrude with her email numerous times and he knew her password. Bob was very fond of photography and videotaping and had uploaded numerous nature videos onto the web. Bob tailed Olaf in Allison’s car and staked out the cabin with the boy. He knew the comings and goings of Olaf. Olaf often made out with the boy outside, as nobody could see from the road and he would hear if someone used the dirt road. Once he figured out Olaf’s schedule with the boy, Bob stealthily videotaped Olaf. He made sure he got enough footage that there would be no doubt.
Bob had got the footage and got Allison’s phone and car and drove up to Oregon on the I5. As long as you did 70 or 75mph, nobody pulled you over. Bob did 69 and went all the way into Oregon and then took the exit to go see his hometown. He barely recognized it. He drove by to a very remote camp spot he knew and then stayed there a few days. Over the course of the next few days, he set up a new email and hacked into Gertrude’s and sent back and forth emails. He pretended like Gertrude was asking some Private Investigator proof that he was cheating on him. Gertrude offered to pay $5,000 for proof. Bob posing as the P.I agreed and asked him to email cash only. Bob sent Gertrude all the photos. Bob then changed the password to Gertrude’s email address, so she couldn’t access it. Bob then dumped the phone, stomped it and made sure it was destroyed. Bob was paranoid about someone tracing him. At first, he was worried about using Allison’s cell, but then realized that all three of them had the cell and the other two were big, beefy guys who probably already had jail time. So he didn’t worry as much, as he figured the police might be on their trail and might think of them as criminal runaways. He put the remains of the cell into the fire put and the license plates as well. This campsite was very isolated and nobody came this high this time of the year-very cold, windy and rainy. Bob slowly drove the vehicle to the cliff and put it in park. He then got out, left the driver door open and released the parking brake and slipped the gear to drive and jumped away. Bob put out the campfire and removed the remains of the phone and plate and tossed them over the cliff too. The car slowly slid and fell off deep into the ravine below, with a loud explosion. The rain would put it out and mask most of the noise. This spot was a few miles to the bus line and then another bus and he could get to the train station. He paid cash for all and reached CA.
Bob was now extremely nervous. He wondered if he should have just shot Olaf. But he wanted Olaf to suffer. He knew Gertrude’s routine. Olaf worked odd hours and often got paid in cash. He was tired and usually it was Gertrude who made the deposits. She wouldn’t dare take any money without asking him first. Gertrude usually made her deposits Wednesdays and then went shopping and Olaf had a big apartment account that he spent Wednesdays on. So for half a day, nobody would notice Gertrude gone. Bob also knew that the last few Wednesdays, Olaf had been spending it with his lover boy. Gertrude would make the deposit morning and come back and wait for her friend Bertha to pick her up. Bertha was a grotesque, obese woman with sharp, yellow, broken, pointy teeth but with a surprisingly friendly demeanor. Bertha was the only friend Gertrude was allowed to have. Bertha was very traditional and laughed at all of Olaf’s jokes even if they were directed at her. She absolutely had no self worth-just the way Olaf liked it and she was married to the Sherriff’s deputy. Bob was nervous, but had his plan in motion. Before those actions were spontaneous, so he had no time to think or at least his deeper self would take over and suppress the voices. But now he felt nervous and had an upset stomach. But he willed himself to get up and forced himself to concentrate and his stomach settled down. Bob drove Candace’s car to Olaf’s house. It was a few miles and he knew the way. Olaf lived in a home set deep in the woods. He finally reached there and saw Gertrude getting ready through the window. The door was open. Bob knocked and walked in. “Oh hi Bob, it’s you” said Gertrude. “Oh hi Gertrude, Olaf said you were having computer problems?’ said Bob. “Oh really I was just working on it and it seemed fine” Gertrude said. “Ok, I will just call Olaf and say that you said it was ok.” Said Bob. “Oh no, no, silly me, sorry, what do I know, please don’t call Olaf, just chec
k for yourself” Gertrude said looking very nervous. Bob knew she was afraid of Olaf and was afraid that he would fly into one of his rages. The computer was not password protected. Olaf’s spare tool kit lay in the exact same position as it always lay. Bob opened Gertrude’s email with the new password, opened up the photos and opened them up. Then he turned to Gertrude. She was in the kitchen fixing up something for Bob. Bob took Olaf’s hammer and walked over to Gertrude.” Oh, Olaf just called, he wanted me to give you a ride for shopping-he wanted you to cook fresh salmon today.” Bob said. “Salmon, oh ok, I guess he didn’t want the old salmon I had in the freezer, uh ok lets go-they run out sometime” said Gertrude. Bob got into Gertrude’s car and drove over to his house and asked Gertrude to come in as he had got some special meat pie. Gertrude came in and Bob whacked her on the head with a hammer with full force. Gertrude fell to the floor screaming, but Bob kept whacking and whacking until she lay still. Bob whacked some more and felt her pulse. She had none. Bob already had the ax and chopped her up. He liked Gertrude, but felt sorry for her and felt Gertrude would be happy to be free from Olaf. Bob cleaned his house meticulously and bleached everything and then went and took a bath. Spread the odor neutralizers and then opened up the windows. He was getting pretty good at this.
Bertha walked in calling for Gertrude. No answer. Her car was outside. Hmm, perhaps she was in the kitchen. She searched the house and the surrounding garden for half an hour. She thought of calling Olaf, but knew Gertrude would pay dearly if Olaf knew she had gone somewhere without permission. Well maybe she was late from the bank? But her car was there. Hmm, she looked at the Internet and decided she would surf the net and post on the numerous forums she was a member of. She opened the net and was shocked, there was Olaf kissing that strange boy that had accompanied him a few times. She dug some more and was mortified by the images she saw. Then she read the emails and realized Gertrude had found out. Bertha looked up and realized there was a hammer missing in the tool kit. Bertha panicked. Did Olaf kill her and if so would she be next, now that she had seen the images too? Bertha ran to her car and drove straight to the Sherriff station. She called 911 on the way and was put through and screamed about what she had seen and the missing Gertrude. Police came swarming in. Olaf was already under probation for a bar fight and a drug bust so they did not need a warrant. They rushed in and took the photos as evidence. Gertrude was declared missing and they looked at Olaf as the prime suspect. Bertha volunteered that Olaf’s schedule was Wednesday at the complex-but he had left hours early. Bertha knew of Olaf’s other property and that the boy stayed there, the police busted in and caught Olaf in the act. Olaf was taken in along with the other boy. Police also found a stash of marijuana and some prescription medication minus the prescriptions.
The whole rural community now knew Olaf’s secret and people were enraged. Gossip grew like wildfire and Olaf had now become the two-headed monster who ate puppies and little kids for breakfast. Olaf’s missing hammer mysteriously turned up in the apartment building he was at earlier that day. It had some brain matter and it was human brain matter. The police figured he must have dropped it while in a frenzy after the killing. The DNA came back as a match for Gertrude. Olaf denied killing his wife to the very end. But eventually he was convicted of murder and the drug charges. Olaf was never getting out. Despite his big size, Olaf had a multitude of ailments. Poor, abused Gertie took care of him and made his medications and balanced his diet despite being constantly abused. Olaf would have no such thing in prison and was now surrounded with men tougher than he was. Olaf was devastated.
But Bob had long since moved on to other things before the conviction. Bob relished this new power he had. He was afraid of tripping up and was afraid of being caught, but he enjoyed it. There was one more person who had caught his fancy now.