#15 - Person from Porlock

“Do you have any stories to tell me?” Ally said.

Isaac squinted, thinking. He kept his eyes on the road. “Why don’t you tell one?” He said.

“There was one I thought of before we stopped last time, but now I can’t remember what it was.” She said. 

“If you tell one first, maybe I’ll remember mine.”

Earlier they had tried listening to the radio, but after landing on three country music stations in a row, Ally had given up and switched it off.

“Let’s see.” Isaac said. He started tapping unconsciously on the steering wheel, humming quietly to himself. He laughed. “I know a story about forgetting a story.”

“A story about forgetting a story…” Ally repeated. “Okay.”

“I heard this from my friend Eric. You might have…let’s see… did you ever meet him? Probably not.”

Ally shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Isaac said, “So, Eric’s family is from Louisiana, where they owned a tire shop. His grandpa was a mechanic. One day, a traveler comes through and needs a tire repaired, so he stops in. While the tire is being fixed by one of the shop employees, Eric’s grandpa and the traveler start talking, shooting-the-shit, telling jokes or whatever. Well, I guess this traveler was a really good story-teller, and one of the stories he told was just fantastic. Super interesting. As soon as Eric’s grandpa heard it, he thought, ‘I’ve got to tell my wife’, which he planned to do when he got home that day.”

Ally was sitting Indian-style in the passenger seat, her feet tucked beneath her. “What was it?” 

“The story?” Isaac said. “Nobody knows. The traveler went on his way after the tire was fixed. When Eric’s grandpa got home that night, he was planning on telling his wife, but he got distracted because there was a salesman at the house. Some guy selling vacuum cleaners.”

“Was it the same guy?” Ally asked.

“No, no. This isn’t like one of those stories. There aren’t any odd coincidences or anything. It’s just that Eric’s grandpa forgot to tell the story when he got home, and he didn’t think about it again until later that night. They went to sleep like usual, but sometime – like two or three in the morning – he woke up and remembered that he had wanted to tell his wife the traveler’s story. But the crazy thing was, he couldn’t remember it.” Isaac said.

“What happened?” Ally said.

“Nothing, really. He figured he’d remember the next morning, but he never did. Eric said that his grandpa never remembered what the traveler’s story was, but he always remembered that he’d forgotten the traveler’s story. Instead of telling the traveler’s story, he told people the story of how he forgot the traveler’s story. If that makes sense?”

Ally rubbed her nose and then crossed her arms. “Wait. So, he didn’t remember the original story the traveler told, but after that, he told people the story of how he’d forgotten the original story?”

“Yeah. That’s what I just said.”

“Just clarifying.”

“So, that’s my story.” Isaac said. “Your turn.”

“Your story’s lame.” Ally said.

“Oh, you wanted to hear a good story?” He joked.

“I expected something better than that.” She said.

“Let’s hear what you’ve got. Do you remember what you were going to tell me before we stopped for gas?” Isaac asked.

Ally sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. After a silent pause, she said, “Nope.”

“What? You still don’t remember?”

“No – it must not have been very interesting. I guess I’m no better than your friend’s grandpa. The ol’ memory’s failin’ me.” She said in an exaggerated southern accent. Isaac laughed.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything. Isaac was about to try the radio again when Ally said, “What about us? What do you think our best story is?”

“You mean like, what’s the best thing that’s happened to us together?”

“Right. If you were going to tell a story about you and me, which one would you tell?” Ally said, twisting in her seat to look at Isaac’s profile.

“You and me. You and me. That’s a hard one.” Isaac said, glancing into the rearview mirror. He looked back at the road. “Maybe I’d tell the story of the time we walked around Coleridge Lake together and I was about to kiss you, but then that guy popped out of nowhere and scared the crap out of us. Remember that? We were sitting on the bench?”

Ally was laughing. “Yep, that was horrifying. Where’d he come from? I was nervous enough as it was.”

“Why were you nervous?” Isaac said.

“Just… I had this feeling you were going to try to kiss me.” She said, rolling her eyes.

Isaac said, “And I would have if that weirdo hadn’t stumbled out of the forest. He delayed our first kiss by – what, about a week?”

“Something like that.”

“What about you?” Isaac asked, making eye contact with her. “What story would you tell about us?”

She scrunched-up her face, as if thinking very hard. “I like this one.” She said.

“Which one?”

“Right now. This would make a good story, right?” Ally said.

“Driving along like this? Just us talking?”

“Yeah.” She said. “Of course, I might have to spice it up a bit. Maybe I could say we got a flat tire and had to stop and have it repaired. I could tell our story to the mechanic and maybe he’d remember it long enough to tell his wife. And maybe she’d tell it to a friend who’d tell it to another friend, and pretty soon some guy would be on a road trip with his girlfriend and he’d tell it to her.”

“I don’t know…” Isaac said, smiling. “Sounds kinda lame.”

“Shut up.” Ally said, holding up a fist as if she might hit him. She laughed. “I didn’t say it was a good story. It’s just our story.” 

*     *     *     *     * 

To learn more about the Person from Porlock, read the original Wikipedia article HERE.