a grin, he raised a hand in
greeting.
“ Nice.”
The vehicle sat there, as the revs
went up a bit then came down again. It sat there.
The passenger window came down and he
could see a long-haired girl in there leaning over to reach the
hand crank. She was long, lean, tanned and young.
““ Hi.” Franklyn walked the
short distance back to the intersection.
If she was looking for directions, she
was shit out of luck.
Holy, crap.
“ Hi.” This was the most
exciting thing that had happened in quite some time.
Not since Cincinnati at least. Punks
in a laundromat. Bloody nose for one of them, broken arm for the
other.
At least that was his
assessment.
Her right arm was up and across along
the back of the seat and her other hand was relaxed across her
lap.
She smiled.
“ What’s up?” Franklyn
found her expression enigmatic at best.
“ Need a lift?”
“ Ah---sure, but, uh…” He
stood there, not reaching for the door handle just yet.
She had been traveling east, and he
was headed south, so as to pick up the Interstate. He was going to
talk to truckers at a major choke-and-puke. Her turn signal wasn’t
on for a right turn or anything.
“ Where are you headed?”
Her right foot was on the brake, her left heel was down and the
toes on the clutch pedal.
It was three in the tree, probably
just a big six-banger up front under the hood. He could tell by the
sound it didn’t have dual exhaust.
Franklyn sighed.
“ It’s complicated. But,
pretty much anywhere, really.”
Her eyes were deadly, crystal clear
and amazing.
His guts were all ice for some reason.
He didn’t care to linger on the thought.
“ I’m Alice. Sounds like
California to me. Am I right?”
He cracked a grin. Franklyn laughed
when he heard that one.
“ Yeah—”
She patted the passenger seat as he
leaned in a bit.
“ Hop in and you can tell
me all about it.” She reached for the gear lever, which was at the
neutral position.
Franklyn noted the accessory gauge
set, available way back when for about thirty bucks at the tire
store at the far end of Breckoridge Mall.
Alice was wearing tan sandals with the
laces going all up the calves, white leather hot-pants, and a white
cotton halter that left nothing to the imagination. She had her
face on, with earrings, something silver pierced through the belly
button and a twirling rosary tattooed around her neck or at least
he thought it was something like that.
That cicada was going again and he
strained to think.
“ Franklyn. Pleased to meet
you.” And how.
He un-slung his pack from his
shoulders, mind made up. Franklyn unsnapped a major strap from the
pack frame and then put his pack on the back of the vehicle,
securing it with the strap and its fastener. That wasn’t going
anywhere. She looked out the flat rear window and gave him a
nod.
He reached for the door handle and
climbed up onto the shiny, light grey vinyl seat and into an
interior rife with an aroma that enveloped him with its
pungency.
The fingers of her left hand hit the
blinker switch, she dropped her into low, and revving it up a
little, she let out the clutch and turned right.
Leaning into it slightly, she
disengaged the clutch, slid the lever way up into second, exposing
the side of a lovly breast when she did so, almost a nipple too,
and then they were really off.
He wondered if she had sort of caught
that.
Franklyn just sat there, trying to
catch his breath for some reason. He didn’t think he’d been working
that hard.
The road led up a slight rise, with
tall conifers lining the road on both sides just over the crest.
The speed built. She wasn’t going crazy with it, just driving. With
total confidence, she dropped the three-quarter ton stake-truck
into third, and again he had to sort of ignore her breast at the
side of his vision, and then she relaxed the left leg, stretching
it all the way out to the floorboards.
Jackson Browne was playing on the
radio, and she looked over at Franklyn. She
greeting.
“ Nice.”
The vehicle sat there, as the revs
went up a bit then came down again. It sat there.
The passenger window came down and he
could see a long-haired girl in there leaning over to reach the
hand crank. She was long, lean, tanned and young.
““ Hi.” Franklyn walked the
short distance back to the intersection.
If she was looking for directions, she
was shit out of luck.
Holy, crap.
“ Hi.” This was the most
exciting thing that had happened in quite some time.
Not since Cincinnati at least. Punks
in a laundromat. Bloody nose for one of them, broken arm for the
other.
At least that was his
assessment.
Her right arm was up and across along
the back of the seat and her other hand was relaxed across her
lap.
She smiled.
“ What’s up?” Franklyn
found her expression enigmatic at best.
“ Need a lift?”
“ Ah---sure, but, uh…” He
stood there, not reaching for the door handle just yet.
She had been traveling east, and he
was headed south, so as to pick up the Interstate. He was going to
talk to truckers at a major choke-and-puke. Her turn signal wasn’t
on for a right turn or anything.
“ Where are you headed?”
Her right foot was on the brake, her left heel was down and the
toes on the clutch pedal.
It was three in the tree, probably
just a big six-banger up front under the hood. He could tell by the
sound it didn’t have dual exhaust.
Franklyn sighed.
“ It’s complicated. But,
pretty much anywhere, really.”
Her eyes were deadly, crystal clear
and amazing.
His guts were all ice for some reason.
He didn’t care to linger on the thought.
“ I’m Alice. Sounds like
California to me. Am I right?”
He cracked a grin. Franklyn laughed
when he heard that one.
“ Yeah—”
She patted the passenger seat as he
leaned in a bit.
“ Hop in and you can tell
me all about it.” She reached for the gear lever, which was at the
neutral position.
Franklyn noted the accessory gauge
set, available way back when for about thirty bucks at the tire
store at the far end of Breckoridge Mall.
Alice was wearing tan sandals with the
laces going all up the calves, white leather hot-pants, and a white
cotton halter that left nothing to the imagination. She had her
face on, with earrings, something silver pierced through the belly
button and a twirling rosary tattooed around her neck or at least
he thought it was something like that.
That cicada was going again and he
strained to think.
“ Franklyn. Pleased to meet
you.” And how.
He un-slung his pack from his
shoulders, mind made up. Franklyn unsnapped a major strap from the
pack frame and then put his pack on the back of the vehicle,
securing it with the strap and its fastener. That wasn’t going
anywhere. She looked out the flat rear window and gave him a
nod.
He reached for the door handle and
climbed up onto the shiny, light grey vinyl seat and into an
interior rife with an aroma that enveloped him with its
pungency.
The fingers of her left hand hit the
blinker switch, she dropped her into low, and revving it up a
little, she let out the clutch and turned right.
Leaning into it slightly, she
disengaged the clutch, slid the lever way up into second, exposing
the side of a lovly breast when she did so, almost a nipple too,
and then they were really off.
He wondered if she had sort of caught
that.
Franklyn just sat there, trying to
catch his breath for some reason. He didn’t think he’d been working
that hard.
The road led up a slight rise, with
tall conifers lining the road on both sides just over the crest.
The speed built. She wasn’t going crazy with it, just driving. With
total confidence, she dropped the three-quarter ton stake-truck
into third, and again he had to sort of ignore her breast at the
side of his vision, and then she relaxed the left leg, stretching
it all the way out to the floorboards.
Jackson Browne was playing on the
radio, and she looked over at Franklyn. She
Similar Books
