Passport

Passport

Jerry had been looking forward to his trip for moths now. It had been his dream, as far back as he could remember to travel Europe. The culture of it was so rich in history. The history of it was so full of culture. Finally, Jerry’s dream was becoming a reality. He purchased his airline tickets last Tuesday. He was flying Jet Blue, not that it mattered to him anyways. As long as he was going, Jerry was thrilled. He was scheduled for departure at 12:00 Noon on May 21st. He could hardly believe that it was already the 20th. Jerry decided that it would probably be a good idea to get a lot of sleep tonight, that way he could sleep on the plane and be ready to sight see upon arrival. He put on his favorite pajamas and headed off for bed. On his way, he looked down where old, cracked sheetrock wall met the floor and noted a mouse hole.
“Dang rodents, the exterminator said they were gone”
With each step the decrepit old floor creaked a little more. This time of year the roaches were coming back around, and Jerry saw one skitter across his foot as he was walking. While brushing his teeth, Jerry cast a look of distain towards the slime covered shower walls and the cracked seat of the dull green toilet in the corner. It was a sad sight indeed. Jerry sighed heavily, shut off the light and went to bed. Finally, he would be going someplace he would be happy. He glanced at his passport lying on the small, oak table next to his bed. Jerry never liked passports, he never really knew why.
Jerry woke up, but he was obviously still in a dream. There was fire all around him. His clothes were ripped to pieces and the only possession he had was his passport. He glanced at his picture to make sure that it was his. It was Jerry alright, but there was something strange about it. It appeared that its lips were moving and it was talking to him. He couldn’t hear what the photograph was saying to him. It took him a minute to figure out the reason he couldn’t hear it was due to the incredibly loud music being played all around. He finally found the volume controls under a nearby rock and could understand what his passport was trying to tell him. It started out asking him about the weather, if he had talked to his ex-wife recently and if he remembered to call the plumber to take a look at the kitchen sink. Then the passport dropped a bombshell.
“You’ll die if you get on that plane tomorrow Jerry”
“What? What do you mean?”
“If you go to Europe, you’ll never come home alive”
“How do you know that? You’re just a passport”
“That’s true. Think about it, if a passport is going to talk, wouldn’t you think it would have something important to say?”
“You made a good point, but I have to go, I hear my alarm clock and if I sleep in I’ll miss my flight”
Jerry’s eyes sprang open, and the covers flew off of him as he dashed to the shower. In less then ten minutes Jerry was showered, shaved and enjoying a half decent cup of coffee that his machine very rarely made. He was pondering what his passport had said to him when he heard something coming from the back of his rundown apartment. He had almost forgotten his watch. He walked into his room at a brisk pace, searching for it. He found the golden timepiece, the one that his father gave him several years before his passing almost twenty years ago. He saw the pass port lying on the ground as well. Jerry picked it up, looked at it, making sure everything was in order.
“I hope that your not getting ready to get on that plane”
Jerry flung the passport across the room. His skin was sheet white, and his eyes were wide with terror.
“That’s impossible. Everyone knows passports can’t talk” Jerry thought.
This was the mantra he used to settle himself down as he inched his way across the cluttered room. He picked the passport, still to shocked to look at it. Eventually, Jerry got up the courage to talk back to the passport.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“What do you mean Jerry? I’m telling you what will happen if you go”
“Its, well, its not right that a passport is talking to me. Its even worse that I’m talking back to you”
“There is something strange about that, isn’t there Jerry? Why don’t you just stop talking to me?
“SHUT UP I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING! I’m going to put you in my pocket, and I’m going to drive the airport and land in London in approximately eighteen hours.”
The passport’s voice was muffled once Jerry angrily put it into his pocket. It seemed like he had everything together and was ready to go. Jerry got into his car and was on his way to Europe. He stopped by a 7-11 to buy a root beer to drink on his commute to the airport, which was nearly a two hour drive. Things suddenly took a turn for the worse for Jerry when the passport began screaming;
“DON’T GO! YOU’LL DIE IF YOU DO”
That wasn’t what the clerk saw. In fact, that isn’t what any of the other customers saw either. What they saw, along with the security camera, was a middle aged man on the edge. They saw a balding, nervous looking man with glasses. All reports say that this man was screaming at someone named Jerry, although everyone in the store had a name differing from that. That was the beginning of the end for Jerry.
For about twenty five minutes, the car was silent. Jerry was sobbing silently. He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he was going to Europe, he didn’t care what would happen if he got on the plane. He knew what would happen if he didn’t escape. When he thought it was too good to be true, the silence shattered.
“How’s Michelle doing since the divorce Jerry?”
“Don’t you EVER talk about that.”
“Why not Jerry, think you’ll walk in on me and her next time?”
“I don’t know why your doing this too me!”
“Think about it Jerry, who’s picture is on the passport? Do you really think that I’m the one doing this too you?”
“NO, Yes, I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t know what to do”
“You know what to do Jerry, I wrote something for you. Its in your pocket right now, aren’t you going to read it?”
“No, I don’t want to read it”
“That’s OK Jerry; you already know what it says anyways”
At close to eight P.M. Eastern Time a Mr. Jerry Robertson was found dead inside his totaled car. Everyone assumed that he fell asleep at the wheel. The officer initially investigating the scene of the accident was is absolute shock. His chubby jowls quivered from fear. Officer John Richardton claimed to have heard a very quiet, very sinister laughter when he opened the passenger side door. The paramedics, who soon arrived on the scene, verified that Jerry had been dead for sometime. No one really knew what really happened until they found the letter. It read:
“I’m sorry what has happened in the past Michelle. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. I thought taking a vacation would help me. It turns out that I’m far beyond help. I hope you can forgive me. It makes me feel better to know that the kids won’t really care that I’m gone. Even if you don’t, I still apologize for everything that has happened.”
Jerry’s funeral was held promptly two days later. No one came. There was no eulogy, no tears, no flowers. There was just a middle aged man with glasses, laying there in a casket. Clutched tightly with his pale, white left hand was a little black book. Inside that booklet was a bloodstained passport.