I was there the day she was born. From the first moment I saw her I knew she was destined for greatness.
Three days before the factory had been abuzz with the celebration of an ordinary car that would, most likely, wind up in some backwater junkyard in an even more backwater town…left to rot, forgotten and ignored by all but the rats. There was nothing special about it other than it marked a "milestone" for the company. One hundred million cars. Who cares? It's just a number. The car before me…now this car will change the course of history! She will never be famous, like Elvis's pink Cadillac, and she will never carry anyone of political importance. Still, there is something very special here; something that sets this car apart from all the millions of other cars out there. It is the sign I have been waiting a very long time for and I need to ensure she gets into the right hands.
It is April 24, 1967 and it is finally time to put certain events into motion. Through my influence I ensure that this car is put on a truck to a dealership in Lawrence, Kansas. This small town is the epicenter of everything. It is from here that this car will begin her great destiny. I need to leave Janesville now. If everything is going to go according to plan I must meet this car in Kansas. I must ensure she gets the right owner.
To avoid causing trouble I take the long way to Kansas…a bus. Sitting here, crushed in amongst the dregs of humanity is almost more than I can take. I bear it, though, because of the importance of my mission. The ride is long and insufferable; I long to crush the life out of the grossly obese woman beside me who refuses to stop talking about her damned dog. As if a mongrel mutt had any importance for me. I consider summoning my dog at the next rest stop but I do not want to cause undo attention. I grit my teeth and try to ignore this corpulent waste of flesh.
At long last the bus arrives in Lawrence, Kansas. The fat cow tells me to have a nice day and it is all I can do not to snap my fingers and erase this blight from existence. I still have a few days before the truck arrives so I walk through the town to get a measure of the place. It is a nice town. Bucolic and calm. I think I could enjoy settling down here. The smell of charred meat wafts through the air and I realize that I am quite hungry. I cross the street and enter Jay Bird's Diner. I can hear the sizzling of flesh coming from the kitchen. The aroma makes me smile and I take a seat at the bar.
"What can I get for ya man?" I look up at the…person…standing before me. The long shaggy hair, the handlebar mustache, and what looks like the skin of a shaggy goat adorn what could, quite possibly, be the most pathetic excuse for a human being I have ever seen. His eyes, hiding behind enormous lenses, are glazed and distant. There is a distinct odor of stale, burned leaves and unwashed clothes. I blink to clear my thoughts and say "coffee and a steak, thanks". "Right on man." I just sit there and shake my head. Hippies.
I'm halfway through my steak and on my third cup of coffee…despite the idiot serving, the food is actually not bad and I've had worse coffee…when they walk in, a middle aged man and woman and their daughter. There is something about these people. The way they carry themselves is different. There is a confidence there born of adversity. These are people who have seen bad things and survived. No. Not just survived but thrived! I watch this small family carefully.
"Sam! Good to see you! You too Dea! Have a seat I'll be right over." The stentorian voice booms from the kitchen. I look up to see a huge man in a stained white apron shove his way through the kitchen door. He grabs Sam's hand with a great meaty hand. "How you been, Sam? We've missed you around here. How was your vacation?" "Not bad Jake. Not bad. How are you and the wife?" "Bah, you know how it is. She spends more money than I can make!" They both laugh at what is obviously a private joke. The man called Sam looks tired but happy. His "vacation" must have gone well…or not. He walks with a slight limp and I can see the faint outline of a bandage under his jeans. The proprietor of the restaurant, Jake, leans slightly over the table which creaks ominously under the man's prodigious weight. "Mary! How you doing girl? Every time I see you you're bigger! What are your parents feeding you on that farm of yours, huh?" She laughs and turns away, blushing a little. I notice there is a small scrape on the side of her head as she brushes her hair over her ear.
The woman, apparently "Dea" says "Jake, honey, leave the poor girl alone! If you'd come over more you wouldn't miss so much between visits!" "Ahhh, Dea, you know I can't leave the 'Bird for a second! Reg here would run the place into the ground…if my wife didn't bankrupt it first!" They all laugh loudly. It is clear to me that this family is well known in this town. I will need to tread carefully here.
I finish my meal and leave. Time to find a place to stay while I work. I find a small motel that will suit my needs nicely. The décor is extremely tacky but it's cheap and it has its own small kitchen.
I need to make a "call". I walk down the alleys of the town looking for what I need. I smell it long before I see it. There, sprawled amongst the garbage behind a seedy looking bar lies one of the lowest forms of humanity I have ever seen. He will not be missed. He does not even wake as I grab his hair and tilt his head backward. The smell of him is revolting but I will not have to put up with it long. I carefully prop the ancient bronze bowl on his chest and remove my dagger from its scabbard. There is something magical about killing a man this way. The razor sharp steel, even more ancient than the bowl, slices effortlessly through the layers of flesh. His sacrifice will not be in vain and I relish the feel of his warm blood as it spurts across my fingers. The bowl fills quickly. The primordial liquid sloshes gently as I reverently lift the bowl from his chest. His death rattle is quiet and short. He never even woke up. Surely, I have done this poor sot a favor.
Gently, I stir my offering and whisper the incantation. The viscous fluid bubbles gently. "I've found them. The car is on its way here." More bubbles. "Yes. They are perfect!" I wave my hand across the bowl and the blood drains away. Taken by Him. The sacrifice has been made. Events are in motion. It begins.