Thirty years ago, I traded my soul for a carrot.

I had the unfortunate experience of having my car break down on a desert road, fifty miles from anywhere. On a whim, I had decided to take an alternate route. The road was barely-paved and narrow. It had clearly seen little use since the Interstate was built. It didn’t go anywhere in particular, but I was on vacation and had nowhere in particular to be.

I didn’t know anything about cars, so when mine started puffing and choking and smoking, I knew I was in trouble. I pulled over and turned it off. I waited a couple of minutes and then tried to restart it. The engine groaned, but wouldn’t catch. I tried again ten minutes later. Nothing doing. I was stuck.

It was a million degrees out and I knew that if I tried to walk to a town, I would never make it. It didn’t seem likely that many other cars would be coming by. Still, with all the people that there are in the world, I figured that there was bound to be someone sooner or later, so I stayed by my car and waited.

After eight hours, I had run out of water. I was hot, tired, hungry, thirsty, you name it. Perhaps you can imagine my relief when a pickup truck came along. I waved and shouted and jumped up and down with what little energy I could muster, but it didn’t stop. It just kept on going, and kicked up dirt in my face as if to mock me.

"Oh my God," I thought. "I can’t wait another eight hours."

Soon it began to get dark. The air cooled off enough to be bearable, but by now I was dehydrated and getting light headed. I decided I’d better get some rest and went to sleep in the back seat.

I was awakened at three in the morning by a loud rumbling. I sat up and saw that a big rig had just passed. I opened the door and tried to get the driver’s attention, but it was too late. The truck was gone. Looking back on it now, I wonder what a truck like that was doing on that nothing of a road. Back then, however, I was simply devastated.

I realized that I couldn’t afford to sleep. I couldn’t afford to miss another opportunity. My head was pounding, my throat hurt, and I was barely able to keep my eyes open, but I persevered.

During the next two days, not one car passed by. Not one. By the third morning, I was completely delirious. I could barely stand. I’d drift in and out of consciousness. I was certain that I was going to die and, in a way, I looked forward to it. It seemed like the only relief from my suffering.

Then she came. She was driving a bright yellow coupe, with the windows down, and bebop blaring. Only half aware of her approach, I managed to stumble into the middle of the road and collapse. She saw me at the last second and stopped short six inches from my body.

"What’s going on? You’re dying, huh?" she said, standing over me.

I couldn’t speak. I just looked up at her face.

"How long have you been here?"

I managed to whisper the word three.

"Three days? That’s not really so long."

She turned and walked back to her car. I was sure that she was going to drive away and leave me to die. I remember thinking, "She’s killed me, that woman."

A few seconds later, however, she returned, holding a small bottle of water in one hand and a carrot in the other.

"I’ll make a deal with you," she said. "I’ll trade you these for your soul. You’ll get to live now, but spend eternity with me on my planet."

I nodded. I had no choice. My body insisted that I drink that water and eat that carrot. If I hadn’t decided to nod, my head probably would have nodded anyway.

"All right, then," she said. "It’s a deal."

She parted my lips and sprinkled water through them. I could feel my body absorb it like a dry sponge. Then she broke the carrot into tiny pieces, put them in my mouth, and grasped my chin to help me chew. The process must have taken an hour. Finally, she dragged me back to my car, and slid me into the shade under it. Then she drove off and was gone.

The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital. I had survived. Someone had eventually driven by and found me. I’m not sure if the water and carrot saved me. They may have. Maybe I would have lived anyway. I’ll never know.

I asked around and nobody had heard of or seen the woman or the yellow coupe. She hadn’t reported my situation to any police station or hospital. She had done nothing but give me the carrot and water, which, of course, was all she’d said she’d do.

I’ve spent a lot of time since then wondering who that woman really was and whether she’d hold me to my promise and what the promise really meant. Was she the devil, and hell a planet? Was she of an alien species that trades in human souls? Would she enslave me? Would she feed off of me? Would she keep me as a pet? It seems most likely that she was nothing more than a product of my delirium. Still, when I sleep, I dream of an extraterrestrial paradise, with no wants, needs, or unhappiness. Then, in the morning, I usually shake my head and chuckle at myself. But sometimes, after a particularly vivid dream, I eat a carrot for breakfast.