It was a glorious Saturday morning, a perfect one to get outdoors and go for a run. Wilson was game to join me. The plan was to meet a few blocks over, closer to his place. I set out in an easy jog, just enough to get the muscles warm and loose.
I went a block, then two, on a nice little stretch. I took a right and hit another straightaway and saw Wilson up ahead, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, ready to go.
“Morning,” I said, trying extra hard to make sure I sounded strong.
“What a day, huh?” Wilson said, full of pep. “Cool, but not cold. Just great for running. Mind if we go at a faster pace this time.”
Everything was a competition with the man.
“Whatever you want, Usain,” I said.
We covered a few blocks at a solid clip. It was just after six and the streets were empty, the neighborhood quiet and peaceful. We made small talk, a little workplace gossip, but nothing too heavy.
After a few minutes I sensed Wilson becoming distracted. He glanced over his shoulder at the street, once, then twice, but said nothing. We covered another block and he looked back again.
“Uh, there’s a car back there that’s keeping pace with us,” he said. “Like it’s following us.”
I didn’t say anything, just kept motoring along, determined not to let anything ruin my run. But Wilson couldn’t shake the distraction.
“Seriously,” he said, slowing as he turned and looked over his shoulder. “I think it is following us. It’s a Tulsa, a silver one.”
“Uh huh,” I said, working to maintain my focus.
We came to a cross street and slowed as we looked both ways, then cranked it back up as we crossed and continued on.
“The car, it slowed down when we did,” Wilson said. There was a hint of fear creeping into his voice now.
Wilson glanced back again and when he spoke his tone was hushed, the fear taking over a bit more.
“There’s no one in the car, I swear. No driver, no one,” he said.
“Ah, I’m sure there’s someone in there,” I said. “Probably an elderly driver. They’re just being cautious and going slow.”
“Then how come I can’t see him?” he asked.
“They tend to sit low in the seat. You know, as you get older you shrink up a bit.”
“No, no, I don’t think so,” he said.
“I’m pretty sure that’s proven. I can look it up later when I get home,” I said.
“No, I mean, I don’t think there’s a driver in the car,” he said. “I don’t see anyone. This feels really weird.”
“A lot of things feel weird today,” I said. “Apps that spy on you. Speakers that talk to you in your house.”
We ran on for a few more blocks and the car kept pace. Wilson was a distracted mess at this point, glancing back every few seconds. I was growing worried he was going to run into a light pole. I needed to say something, but before I could, he reached his arm across in front of me.
“Hold on, I want to try something,” he said. “Stop running for a second.”
The two of us stopped and Wilson looked back. “Aha, the car stopped. It just pulled to the curb right back there, about ten feet behind us. It’s like a stalker, or a phantom car. Now I’m really worried.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “I can explain.”
But before I could Wilson put it together.
“Hey, didn’t you buy a Tulsa, like a month ago?” he asked. “That’s your car. I know it is. I remember you showing me pictures of it.”
“All right, all right,” I said. “It is my car. You win.”
“What the heck is going on?” he asked.
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“It’s Saturday, I have time.”
“I’ve had this issue with it, for a few days now. I was trying out the self-driving feature. I knew it was too early, and the thing was in beta and all that, but I was curious,” I said.
“I don’t get it,” Wilson said.
“It’s a smart car. You’re eventually supposed to be able to summon the car in a parking lot. It will come pick you up and take you home, or to wherever, without your help,” I said.
“I’m still lost.”
“Well, I tried it,” I said. “Over at Costco the other night.”
“Did it work?”
“All too well. I can’t shake the damn thing now.”
“You mean-“
“I mean the car is following me. The next morning I went down the driveway for the mail. The car came with me. I walked back up the driveway, the car came back with me. It trails me a few feet back wherever I go.”
“Like a border collie,” Wilson said.
“Yes, a very shiny, $70,000 border collie.”
We spent a few more minutes of me telling Wilson how I longed for the days when I could control the car, not the other way around. I told him how I was determined to get a run in today, car or no damn car. Wilson was empathetic, understanding the need for a little space between vehicle and owner.
“I have an idea,” he said, looking up the street as I finished. “Follow me, just run alongside me and don’t stop.”
We took off down the street, my car following a few feet back, close to the curb. Then, without warning Wilson cut out into the street. “Come on, follow me, double back.
I did as told and looked back to see my car swing wildly into a U-turn across the double yellow line cutting off a police car. The officer jammed on the brakes, then did his own U-turn and hit the lights and siren.
“Let’s see how smart a car it is now,” Wilson said, as we ran on.