Last Gas Fifty Miles.

It wasn’t the best job. Most of the time it was rereading the same magazines Ethan could keep in sell able condition. The desert stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Some of the time, you would meet people you would never want to see again. Today’s people were like that.

Ethan stopped looking at the thermometer after the red fluid ticked passed the ninety degree mark. Unfortunately, that was at the first part of his shift. The day dragged on and his list of duties became shorter. With the new freeway system built this stretch of forgotten highway was powerful lonesome. The oil stained concrete was hot to the touch when the first clientele pulled in. It was a fire engine red Bel Air with the white canvas top rolled back. The whitewall tires made the car look like it was floating on air. The people were a couple. A young happy couple, as far as Ethan could tell. Their smiles and the laughter made it seem they were.

The gentleman signaled Ethan to come over. Ethan was happy to do something other than push a mop and bucket around the store. He hopped too and started pumping gas. With the gauge starting to roll, the couple relaxed a little and started speaking among themselves.

“You know Jimmy is going to be mad as hell, right?” She sounded like she was straight from the pictures, bad acting and all. Her hair kept under a red scarf, slivers of brunette strands escaped from under the cloth.

“Jimmy can go get bent. I had it up to here with him! Besides I got everything I could ever want. I got his dame, his car, and the open road in front of me.” The man sounded like he was smiling ear to ear.

Ethan just saw the back of his head. With his attention on the driver Ethan forgot what he was doing, until the obnoxious smell of leaded gasoline bit his nostrils.

He cursed to himself, and asked for the payment. “Two fifty sir!”

The driver reached into his cream white trousers and pulled out a wallet near exploding with cash and handed Ethan three dollars. “Keep the change kid”

They disappeared out of sight on that hot day, leaving Jimmy bored once more. It wasn’t until near dusk did the rusty old pick up truck come in.

It came the opposite direction as the previous customers. A rough unkempt looking man in stained denim overalls was the driver. The truck was once green, underneath the years of rust. On the driver’s side door, a faded business logo disappeared into illegible text. The insignia so far gone that Ethan, stared at it and wondered if it started with an “S” or maybe a “J.”

Ethan did his job. The driver never took his hands off the wheel, or his gaze off of the horizon.

“Dollar seven please.” Ethan asked.

The man placed a crumpled up dollar, and seven dirty pennies in Ethan’s hand. With a loud bang the truck puttered back to life. Dark choking smoke popped out of the exhaust pipe. The truck was falling apart, as the driver put it into gear. A panel of the stake bed truck crashed to the cement. Ethan picked it up and chased after the exiting vehicle.

“Hey! Wait! Wait!” he yelled.

Ethan was huffing and puffing running after the truck. The panel was heavy and it was the hottest part of the day. Finally the truck pulled over to the side of the road. Ethan caught up. The driver got out, slammed the door shut and thanked Ethan. The two worked together to fasten the panel back on. It was then Ethan took note of the strange long piles covered by burlap sacks in the bed.

“I must be going now. Thanks again.” The driver spoke in a no nonsense tone. He got back in and continued on his way.

“Didn’t even tip me!” Ethan cursed, as he walked back to the gas station. He kicked the dirt. When the dust settled he looked back toward the ground. Something caught his attention. It was a bright scarlet cloth flapping in the desert breeze. Ethan walked over and removed it from the brush it was snarled on. He had seen this color before. He saw it earlier. Where he saw this color, he couldn’t recollect.

He reflected on this mundane day, and the things that stood out about it. His mouth flung open, when he looked closer upon the bandanna, a single black hair.

“Oh Christ.”