It had been almost
two weeks since I left San Francisco. I didn’t regret it. Not one bit. The
diner wasn’t paying me well enough and that old boss of mine kept trying to
corner me when we were closing up, asking in a not-so-nice way if I wanted to
“do” anything. One night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ripped off the stupid
little red and white checked apron he made me wear as a waitress, threw it in
his face, grabbed my bag and coat, and let the door slam shut behind me. Who
cared if I never saw him again? Who cared if I never returned to the diner
again? Who cared if I never saw my last paycheck? Well…I have to admit…the
absence of that paycheck was beginning to sting a little bit. The sun was
beginning to sink behind the low red buttes of Arizona. I had hitchhiked my way
this far, but tonight was looking rough. I set down my satchel and promptly
threw myself on top of it. Resting my hand in one hand, I stuck the other thumb
out, hoping that I’d get lucky.
Then I heard it. Motorcycles. Maybe?
The sound of the motors seemed too light for a car. I looked up. There were two
of them. Cruising toward me at high velocity. I scrambled for my satchel as I
stood, running closer to the vegetation on the side of the road. But they
slowed. One of them had long hair and I couldn’t see his features well behind
his sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat. The other was rather handsome. Stopping
his bike, he fixed his gaze on me.
“Are you really doing this AGAIN?”
The one with the long hair seemed impatient. Desperate to be on his way and
leave me, quite literally, in the dust.
“We don’t have time for this.”
The handsome turned to his
companion: “and where exactly are we going”
“New Orleans. The city. I’m trying
to get there sooner rather than later.”
“Well…why don’t we see if this
pretty lil’ lady would like to join us.”
The handsome one turned back to me
and I felt myself shrink a little in the presence of these two men. I turned,
thinking that I should walk away. Leave the two of them. It was the right
decision.
But then I remembered the man in the
diner. The man who said he’d been all over the United States. I wondered if
he’d been to New Orleans too.
The handsome one studied me, and for
some reason I felt compelled to look up. We locked eyes and he took a drag of
his cigarette. Wait…that smell wasn’t smoke. He took a drag of his…something.
“You hoppin’ on the back of this
thing or not? We wanna make camp before it gets too dark to see anything ‘round
these parts. We’d better be on our way.”
I hesitated for a moment and glanced
up the road. Daylight was quickly fading and not another soul lurked on the
tarmac or in an automobile for as far as I could see. Stars were beginning to
poke holes in the sky, and the moon was getting brighter as if to assert its
dominance over the coming night.
“You got an extra helmet.”
He grinned. “Not a chance in hell.”
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