Something Alive Under the Seat
When Samira bought her secondhand car, she felt proud. It wasn’t just a car—it was her small, hard-earned victory. She had recently quit her busy corporate job to chase her dream of writing short stories. Money was tight, so she didn’t want to waste her savings. That’s why the used Toyota Corolla from the local dealership seemed perfect. Reliable, affordable, and hers.
It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was all she needed. She didn’t care who owned it before her. That part didn’t matter. The past was gone, and Samira was focused on her new beginning.
Or at least, she thought she was.
Because the very next morning, something strange happened.
It was early—too early. Around 7 a.m. Samira was still yawning and trying to wake herself up. She stood in her kitchen, waiting for her coffee to brew when her phone buzzed. The number on the screen was unknown.
Usually, she would’ve ignored it. But something about early-morning calls always made her nervous. What if someone needed help?
So, she answered.
“Hello?” she said, still half-asleep.
“Hi,” a man’s voice said on the other end. He sounded tense, almost panicked. “Is this the new owner of the Toyota Corolla?”
“Yes, this is her,” she replied, now alert. Her stomach did a small flip. “Who’s speaking?”
The man took a deep breath before answering.
“Oh, thank goodness! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I really need your help. I was the previous owner of the car, and I left something under the seat when I gave it in yesterday morning. You picked it up yesterday, yes?”
Samira blinked in confusion. “Yes…”
“Okay. Good,” he said, but he sounded nervous. “I need to get my hands on what I left behind. It’s very important. It’s urgent, really.”
Now her heart was racing.
What could be so important that he’d track her down like this? Wasn’t it against the rules for the dealership to share personal information?
She kept calm and asked, “What exactly did you leave?”
There was a pause. Then came the strangest answer she’d ever heard.
“It’s something… alive,” he said.
Her eyes widened. “Alive?”
“Please, ma’am,” he continued, “I need to come and get it as soon as possible. I promise I’ll explain when I see you.”
Samira stood still, stunned. Alive?
Her brain started spinning in all directions. What could possibly be alive under the seat? A puppy? A baby? Was this guy involved in something illegal and using “alive” as a cover-up?
She tried to stay calm.
“Do you want to meet me somewhere or give me your address?” he asked carefully.
Any other day, Samira would have said no. But something about his voice—the urgency, the honesty—made her pause.
“Okay,” she said slowly, feeling unsure but curious. “There’s a park near where I live. Quiet, safe. I’ll meet you there. I’ll send you the address.”
“Perfect,” he said, sounding deeply relieved. “Don’t worry, it’s contained for now.”
She hung up and stared at her phone.
“What are you doing, Samira?” she whispered to herself. “Are you really about to meet a complete stranger who says something alive is in your car?”
Still, her curiosity was stronger than her fear.
Twenty minutes later, she stood in the park beside her Corolla, her arms folded, the morning air cool around her. The world was quiet. Birds chirped, and people were still inside their homes, slowly starting their day.
Then she saw him.
An old pickup truck pulled into the small parking lot. A man got out—young, maybe her age. His dark hair was a bit messy, and his eyes darted around nervously until they landed on her.
“I’m Ben,” he said, walking up to her. “Thank you for letting me come.”
He looked a little lost but not dangerous. There was something awkward but sincere about him.
“No problem,” Samira said. “I’m Samira. So… what exactly did you leave under the seat?”
Ben didn’t answer right away. He just walked over to the car, opened the driver’s door, and crouched down. He reached under the seat.
Samira held her breath.
Then he pulled out a small, sealed plastic box. It had tiny air holes on the top.
Her stomach dropped. Was that a snake? A rat? A spider?
Ben stood up, holding the box carefully.
“I’m really sorry to bother you like this,” he said.
“What’s in there?” Samira asked, her eyes locked on the box.
He gave a nervous chuckle. “I have a pet gecko at home, and I feed it live insects. Yesterday, I stopped at the pet store to buy food—mealworms and roaches. I must’ve left the box under the seat when I was unloading the car.”
Samira’s mouth fell open.
“You left a box of live insects under the seat?” she asked.
“Not on purpose!” he said quickly, looking embarrassed. “I was already running late. The moment I unloaded the rest of my stuff at home, I rushed to drop the car off… for you.”
She shook her head. “You’re lucky they didn’t escape.”
He laughed nervously. “I know! I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about it. I kept imagining them crawling around your car.”
That image made Samira laugh out loud. She couldn’t help it. “Oh my goodness,” she said. “That would’ve been horrifying.”
Ben smiled. “Right? It sounds ridiculous, but I was actually terrified.”
Then, his expression softened. “I really am sorry, Samira. I didn’t mean to scare you. The gecko—his name’s Samson—actually belongs to my little brother. He loves that weird little lizard.”
Her heart melted just a little.
“No judgment here,” she replied with a smile. “I had a pet frog for two weeks when I was a kid. My mom freaked out when it escaped and started jumping around my room.”
That made them both burst into laughter again. Real laughter—the kind that makes your eyes water.
Then Ben looked at her and said, “Let me make it up to you. Can I take you out for coffee? As an apology for the… bug thing?”
Samira blinked, surprised. She didn’t expect that.
Still, there was something kind and hopeful in the way he said it. Like he wasn’t trying to impress her—he just wanted to make things right.
“I… um,” she began, then smiled. “Sure, why not?”
His face lit up. “Great! There’s a nice place not far from here. Want to go now?”
She laughed. “Only if you take me to a car wash first. To wash away any leftover bugs and my paranoia.”
Ben laughed too. “That’s the least I can do. Come on.”
He placed the insect box carefully in his truck and locked it. Samira tossed her car keys to him, and he caught them with a grin.
As they drove to the car wash, he told her more about his life.
“My little brother’s ten years younger than me,” he said. “He lives with me now. There’s a great school nearby, so it just made sense.”
“That’s really sweet,” she said, watching him drive. “I always wanted a younger sibling. Someone to take care of—or maybe someone to keep me from making stupid choices.”
Ben chuckled. “Trust me, you still make stupid choices. You just have someone around to laugh at you for them.”
At the car wash, Ben made sure Samira’s car got the full treatment.
“Give her a good wash, guys,” he said to the workers.
Then they walked to a nearby café while the car was cleaned.
As they sat down with their drinks, Samira sipped her coffee and looked at Ben.
This was not how she expected her day to go. She had bought a used car, not a new friendship—or maybe even something more.
And in her heart, a quiet question echoed:
What happens next?
