I could start with the road trip or the two months of chaos that ensued, but this whole ordeal really started in a Wal-Mart parking lot.

I had just made my purchase: some frozen dinners and bargain DVDs. I’m not really what they call a “people person,” so I was looking forward to a night alone.

A wiry, wild-eyed, disheveled man was standing just outside the automatic doors of Wal-Mart. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on his face and his hair looked pretty dirty, but he was dressed in brown flannel slacks and a nice, although wrinkled, blue twill shirt. His shoes looked a bit worn, but were still in pretty good shape. So, obviously not homeless. He was stopping everybody as they left the store.

“Hey, listen,” the man said, very collectedly, although there was still a certain frenetic tone to his voice. He was talking to the man with two shopping bags about ten feet in front of me. “Sir, I need your help. I have this very important thing that I need to do.” The man with the bags walked by without acknowledging the frantic man. “Sir,” the wiry man said, still trying to catch his attention, “PLEASE, if you’ll just LISTEN…”

That’s when he met my eye. I threw my gaze down to the floor but couldn’t help looking back up. I have to admit, my curiosity was piqued.

“Sir,” the man said, looking me right in the eye and motioning toward me with his right hand. “Sir, I need your help.”

“I don’t have any money,” I muttered, trying to walk past him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t need any money. I need your help.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him. He stood expectantly for a second until I motioned for him to go on.

He sighed and collected himself. “I need your help getting to New York,” he said.

“What, do you not have a car? Can’t you ride the bus?”

The man shook his head. “I— I don’t have a car, and I can’t ride the bus. I can’t take a plane either.”

“So, wait,” I scoffed, “Do you want me to drive you to New York?”

A woman walked out with a grocery cart full of groceries. The man put his hand on his hip and looked down at the ground beside him, exasperated, watching the woman as she walked past. “Look,” he said after she was out of earshot, looking up at me, “there are lives on the line, here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I need to get to New York, or else people will die. Lots of people.”

I shot him as serious a look as I could muster. “What are you talking about?” I asked again.

“There will be a large disaster taking place in a month or two. I need to be there to—”

I cut him off. “A large disaster taking place? How do you know?”

“I have it on a good source.”

“What, are you going to tell me that you’re from the future? Come to avert calamity and change the course of history?”

The man sighed and looked down at the ground. Another man left the store carrying a few grocery bags. He ignored us entirely.

After the man with the bags was sufficiently far away, the man continued, “I’m on a mission from God.” I rolled my eyes and shot him a dirty look. “No— I know it sounds crazy, but please, PLEASE, you have to help me get to New York.”

I looked him straight in the eye. “Goodbye. And good luck getting to New York.” I turned and walked away.

The walk to my car was a little nerve-wracking. I didn’t look behind me, but I didn’t entirely trust the man not to follow me. Upon reaching my car, I hit me what a shitty car it was, and I realized that I really had nothing else to steal other than some frozen dinners and Ghostbusters on DVD, so I calmed down a bit. He didn’t follow me.

At that point, I thought I was done with it. I thought I would never see that man again. If I was going to see that man again, I certainly wouldn’t expect to see him later that night. Certainly not just a few hours later. Life has this funny way of surprising you sometimes.