The former owner of my car called, desperately asking to recover something he had left under the seat — when I found it, I turned pale

When Samira buys a secondhand car at a dealership, she thinks it a victory because it was something she had done all by herself. But the next morning, the mysterious previous owner of the car calls her, claiming that he left something “alive” under the seat of the car. Will Samira meet him or uncover the secret package by herself?

When I first bought my car, it was supposed to be a small victory. I had left my corporate job to take time off to write my collection of short stories. So, I didn’t want to splurge my savings until something big came my way financially.

It was nothing fancy, just a used Toyota Corolla from the local dealership. The thrill of owning it was enough to make me overlook any thoughts about its previous owner. Whoever they were, they were in my past, and I was cruising straight into my future.

Or so I thought.

But then came that random phone call which changed everything.

It was early, around 7 a.m., and I was in the middle of making my morning coffee when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.

Normally, I’d ignore it, but something about early morning and late-night unknown calls made me answer. I didn’t know if someone needed me.

“Hello?” I said, yawning.

“Hi, is this the new owner of the Toyota Corolla?” a man asked, anxiety in his voice.

“Yes, this is her. Who’s speaking?” I asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.

He took a deep breath.

“Oh, thank goodness! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need your help. I was the previous owner of the car, and I left something under the seat of the car when I gave it in yesterday morning. You picked it up yesterday, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied, confused about what he was getting at.

“Okay. Good,” he paused. “I need to get my hands on what I left behind. It’s really important. It’s urgent, really.”

What on earth could be so important that he would track me down like this? Was the dealership even allowed to give out personal information?

“What did you leave?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“It’s something… alive,” he stammered. “Please, ma’am, I need to come and get it as soon as possible. I promise you, I’ll explain when I see you.”

I remained silent for a moment.

Alive? The word echoed loudly in my mind. Was this man serious? What alive thing could possibly be in the car? My mind raced between a baby to a dog to even a package of narcotics that he was brushing off as something alive.

But I knew that I would have noticed something like that.

“Do you want to meet me somewhere or give me your address?” he continued.

I should have probably said no to all of the above. But there was something about him and the panic in his voice that made me hesitate to say no.

“Okay,” I finally said, my voice more firm than I felt. “Come over to my neighborhood. There’s a park not too far away from where I live. I’ll meet you there. I’ll send the address to this number.”

“That’s perfect,” he said, sighing in relief. “Don’t worry, it’s contained for now.”

I hung up and stared at my phone.

“What are you doing, Samira?” I asked myself. “Are you really going to meet a random person?”

But, what would be alive under my seat? My thoughts darted to worse-case scenarios again. What if it was a dangerous animal?

I had no idea what to expect, and that’s what made me nervous.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing next to the Corolla in the cool morning air, waiting for the mysterious stranger to show up.

The neighborhood was still quiet, and I imagined everyone in their homes slowly waking up or making breakfast for their families.

Finally, a man pulled up in an old pickup truck, just as he had texted me to say he would. His eyes scanned the area nervously before landing on me.

“I’m Ben,” he said. “Thank you for letting me come.”

He was younger than I imagined, and probably in his late twenties like myself, with dark hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

There was something endearing about his disheveled appearance, though I could tell he was genuinely worried.

Stop it, Samira, I told myself. This isn’t one of your romantic comedy stories. This isn’t a meet-cute.

“No problem,” I replied. “I’m Samira. So, what exactly did you leave under the seat?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he opened the driver’s door and dropped to his knees beside the car and reached under the seat. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Ben pulled out a small, sealed box with tiny air holes punched into the top. My stomach did a flip as I imagined a tarantula inside the box.

“I’m really sorry to bother you like this,” he said, standing up and holding the box.

“What’s in there?” I asked, almost amused.

“I have a pet gecko at home, and I feed it live insects every day. Yesterday, I stopped at the pet store to pick up some food, including mealworms and roaches, but I must have left the box under the seat when I was unloading the car.”

It took a moment for his words to register with me.

“You left a box of live insects under the seat?” I asked.

“Not by choice,” he replied sheepishly. “I was late to hand over the car as well. So the moment I unloaded everything else at home, I rushed over to the dealership to leave the car… for you.”

“You’re lucky that they didn’t escape,” I said.

Suddenly, a laugh bubbled up inside me before I could stop it, and once it started, it was hard to stop.

He looked at me, confused for a second, before a grin spread across his face.

“I know, it’s ridiculous, right?” he said. “I was so freaked out that I couldn’t even sleep. I kept imagining them crawling around your car, and I just…”

“My goodness,” I exclaimed. “That would have been quite the surprise.”

The thought of driving around with a box full of escaped bugs lurking somewhere under the seat was both horrifying and hilarious.

“I’m really sorry, Samira,” he said, his grin fading into something more genuine. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t know what else to do. The gecko, Samson, is actually my little brother’s pet. And as wacky as it is, that kid loves it.”

“No judgment here,” I replied. “I had a pet frog for a solid two weeks as a kid until my mother found it bouncing around my room.”

That was enough to set us both off again. We laughed until tears ran down our faces.

“Let me make it up to you,” he blurted out suddenly. “How about I take you out for a coffee? As an apology for the… bug thing?”

I stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden offer. I hadn’t expected any of this. But at the same time, I felt like I was in one of the romance stories that I wrote.

There was just something about the way he asked, something genuine and a little bit hopeful.

“I… um,” I started to say. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” he said, his face lighting up. “I know a place not too far away from here. Would you like to go now?”

I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“How about you take me to a car wash to wash away any bugs and my paranoia, and then we can grab a coffee?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious.

“Actually, that’s the least I can do,” he said. “Come on.”

Ben put the box of insects in his truck and locked the door. I threw my keys at him, which he caught perfectly.

As we drove to the car wash, Ben told me all about his little brother, who was living with him.

“There’s a big age gap between us,” he said. “But there’s a really good school two roads away from me. So he’s enrolled there.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, watching his hands on the steering wheel. “I wish I had a younger sibling to keep me on the straight and narrow.”

When we got to the car wash, Ben ensured that we would take the full package.

“Give her a good wash, guys,” he said.

We went for coffee while the car was being attended to.

And I wondered what was going to happen next…

What would you have done?

The Tragic Reason Why One Man Actually Turned Blue Forever

The world’s most famous blue man, Paul Karason, also dubbed Papa Smurf, was born as a fair-skinned, freckled boy with ginger hair. In the 2000s, he became an internet sensation and made many TV appearances, openly talking about his condition. Let’s find out together why Karason turned blue and how he became a cautionary tale.

Paul Karason had a skin condition that made his skin flake, as well as acid reflux and arthritis. Doing his own research in order to improve these ailments, he found out about a solution of silver in water, also known as colloidal silver.

Colloidal silver was widely used as an antibiotic back before penicillin was invented in the 1930s. It was banned in 1999 in over-the-counter medications after scientists found that it can severely damage internal organs.

The late Paul Karason and his wife, Joanne

Karason drank what he believed was a miracle cure for over 10 years. Moreover, he even began to apply a silver preparation directly to his skin; he claimed his acid reflux and arthritis just went away. “I had arthritis in my shoulders so bad I couldn’t pull a T-shirt off. And the next thing I knew, it was just gone,” he shared.

Due to the silver accumulation in his skin, he started to turn blue and suffered from a permanent and rare condition called argyria. Only when Karason met an old friend who asked him, “What have you done to yourself?” did he begin to realize he’d become blue.

Karason claimed his blue skin had many advantages — he never got sunburns or had to wear sunglasses. There were some side effects he did not appreciate, however, such as folks “being less than polite” to him. Moreover, Karason confessed he couldn’t get a job because of employers’ resistance to hiring “people that are blue or that are noticeably different.”

Sadly, Paul Karason passed away in 2013 when he was 62 years old due to heart complications.

Papa Smurf’s story serves as a valuable lesson about the importance of being careful when it comes to at-home remedies. While it’s natural to want to find easy solutions to health problems, it’s important to be aware that such remedies can sometimes pose serious risks. It’s always better to consult a doctor and follow their advice for a safe and effective treatment.

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