A large gray pick up truck skidded into the gas station parking lot, it stopped slanted across three parking spaces in front of the shop. The silent man was behind the counter looking to the door. Two young men climbed down from the cab, they were dressed alike in faded jeans and worn flannel shirts, their hair was long and flat. They walked quickly to the door, the driver of the truck flung the door open.
"So what the hell is it?" he said.
The man behind the counter folded his arms. "Hi, Denny. He just came in and asked for directions."
"That's it?" the other man said. "Just stopped in real quick?"
"Yep," said the quiet man.
"Did you call the police?" Denny asked.
"No, Denny. Thought you two could handle it better than they could."
"You're right about that," Denny replied. "Don't want to leave this one for a regular Jonathan Law."
"Well what's this guy look like?"
"Normal, man in his early thirties I guess. He was wearing work clothes."
"That's not much, Chris," the other man said.
"Denny's truck is orange, that'll make it easy."
"What else did he say?" Denny asked.
"He asked for directions to Route 4 west."
"That's where we're going, then," Denny said.
"He's got a twenty minute head start," Chris said.
"Well lucky for us my brother Carl here is a real fine driver," Denny said.
"Sure am. My middle name is Driving Dangerously," Carl said.
"Your middle name is Dean," Denny said.
"Shut up and let's get out of here," Carl said. They climbed into the car, Carl floored it for Route 4.
Deputy Ed Evans sat at the wheel of his patrol car heading west on Smithson Avenue, Sheriff Maggee sat in the passenger seat.
"Fine way to spend an afternoon, huh Tom?" the deputy asked.
"Yeah, real fine," the sheriff said looking at a stack of papers in his lap. "It doesn't make a bit of sense, Ed. Seems like he was driving around in circles. 11:15 orange truck headed west on Shirley Street, 11:23 orange truck seen headed north on McGinty, 11:30 orange truck spotted heading south on McGinty street, 11:42 orange truck seen on Highway 3 heading north. Twelve o'clock, truck is on Tidewater going East, 12:13 truck is heading south on Rowers."
"Maybe it was two trucks," Ed said.
"No, I don't think so, Ed. Sounds like the bastard was lost."
The radio cracked with static. "Sheriff Maggee?" a young woman's voice came from the speaker. The sheriff took the receiver.
"Yeah, Sandy."
"A man just called from the Getrol station off 209. He said that a man in an orange truck came in and asked for directions at about noon."
"Where'd he ask for directions to?" the sheriff asked.
"He was trying to get to Route 4 heading west."
"Good work, Sandy," the sheriff said placing the receiver down.
Deputy Ed Evans flicked the siren and slammed the gas.
"Jesus Christ, Carl," Denny said gripping the handle in the truck's door. The truck weaved in an out of traffic, curling over on the shoulder. Denny held tightly to the door, shaking in his seat as the car passed from the shoulder and back into the left lane. He looked out of the window, a car full of vacationing college girls looked up at the truck with fright. The driver of the car, a young girl with large sunglasses, kept her eyes on the road as she began to cry.
"We're gonna get him," Carl said. "We're gonna get this guy!" he screamed.
"Let's try to stay alive, Carl," Denny said. "What's the use of the truck if there's no one left to drive it."
"Calm down, Denny. We're in fine shape. This isn't anything. Barely anyone on the road," Carl said shifting gears.
"How far down do you think he is?"
"He was ahead of us by twenty minutes."
"My guess is that he isn't speeding. Trying to act casual."
"In a truck like that?"
"Maybe he's color blind."
"Maybe he's dumb."
"Bet he's both."
"You're on."
Carl hit the horn of the car in a rapid staccato. "Move it!" he yelled, breaking the truck.
"What are we gonna do when we get him?" Denny asked.
"That's up to you, big brother. We could stomp him good. Real good."
"You still got that extra tire iron?"
"In the back, yep. Some chain, a can of spray paint. Whatever, man."
"Lots of possibilities," Denny said. "What a piece of work. Steals my car in an oil change."
"Why didn't you just change it yourself?"
"I keep asking myself the same thing. I was treating myself, you know?"
"Just shows you," Carl said. "It's a luxury you can live without, paying for something you can do yourself."
"Carl!" Denny shouted. He straightened up in the seat.
Carl jammed the accelerator, ahead on the highway was an orange pick up going steady in the right lane. It disappeared over the crest of a hill.
"Goddamn, goddamn," Carl said. He crossed the truck from the left lane to the right shoulder, taking the car up to 90 miles an hour. When the crossed over the hill they saw the truck again.
"That's it," Denny said. "That's my truck. That's my goddamn truck."
Carl pulled the car over to the left lane, a white two door skidded off to a stop on the shoulder. A horn blared.
Pepper looked into the rearview of the truck. "Oh, man," he said looking up. He could see the gray truck weaving in traffic, the driver pumping the horn. He let up on the gas. "This guy can go on ahead, man." Pepper let the speed down to 50 miles an hour.
Carl was gaining on the truck. "He's slowing down," Carl said. "Making this easy on us." The trucks were side by side. Denny rolled the window down and looked over at Pepper.
"PULL OVER" he screamed over the wind and engines. Pepper gave a confused look. Denny screamed again, motioning to the shoulder with his thumb. "PULL OVER," he screamed again. Pepper slowed the car, it rumbled off the road into the shoulder. The gray truck pulled in behind it, Denny and Carl quickly scrambled out.
"Get out of the car!" Carl screamed. "Get out of there."
Pepper opened the door and climbed out slowly. "Okay, okay, man. Whatever you say."
"Do you know whose truck this is?" Denny asked. Pepper's mouth fell open, stunned. He took as step backward into the open truck door.
"Do you?" Denny asked.
"Yours, sir?"
"Yes. It's mine. This is my goddamn truck!"
"Oh, man. I had no idea. I'm sorry man."
"Yeah, I'll bet. I'll bet you'll be real sorry in a minute here," Carl said. He took an axe handle from the back of his jeans.
"Listen guys, I'm in a bit of trouble myself. I'm just trying to get out of town. You can have your truck back. You can take it. I'm just trying to stay a step ahead."
"What you running from?" Denny asked.
"Screw him, Denny!" Carl said.
"Hold on, hold on. What you running from, man?"
"I'm just in a bit of trouble."
"What kind?" Denny asked.
"Now I don't want to say anything. The less you know the less you'll be responsible. You just get your truck back and I go on walking down this interstate."
"I'm gonna break your arms," Carl said.
Pepper's face went white.
"I'm gonna break your elbow in," Carl said walking towards Pepper.
"Stop, Carl," Denny yelled. "Let's just take the trucks and get the hell out of here. We don't need trouble, we just need to get the hell out of here."
"Give me one good goddamn reason not to break your arms," Carl said.
Pepper stammered. "I don't know, I don't know mang. I just needed the car. I just took it."
Carl advanced on Pepper, raising the axe handle.
"Carl!" Denny yelled.
He swung the handle hard, landing on Pepper's shoulder. Pepper yelled.
"Ah! Ah!" he grabbed it with his hand. Carl raised the handle again.
"You piece," Carl said but stopped as Denny grabbed the wooden club.
"Let's leave it at that, Carl."
Carl stood still, breathing heavily. He looked at Pepper, standing with his hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, guys. I'm real sorry. I didn't mean no offense. Just need the wheels."
"Give me your wallet," Carl said.
"Oh, no, man. No, man," Pepper said leaning against the open door of the truck.
"Give me your damn waller!" Carl screamed. He grabbed Pepper by the shirt and turned him around. He reached into his back pocket and took the wallet.
"Jesus," Carl said unfolding the stuffed wallet. He took the stack of bills and threw the wallet at Pepper. "Thanks for the trouble," he said.
Denny walked to his truck and pushed Pepper out of the way. Carl walked back to his truck and started the engine, revved it. "See you at home," he called from the window. Denny put his hand out the window, giving his brother a thumbs up.
Denny pulled onto the highway. Carl hit his horn at Pepper, who looked up and staggered into the brush off the shoulder. The gray truck passed him, accelerated and turned onto the highway. Pepper fell onto his knees in the tall grass and watched the trucks disappear in the distance.
2 comments:
karma!
Oh dear merciful God, when is this dumb bastard ever going to catch a break?
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