Mountains

He should have stopped for gas in Pittsburgh. There was a rundown trailer next to an empty creek at the bottom of the mountains a hundred yards or so off the turnpike. It was hidden by trees. There was a gray haired woman taking towels off a clothesline and a man underneath his truck changing the oil. She took the towels into the house and brought the man some iced tea in a mason jar. There was a dirt path leading down the mountain beside the trailer. It ran parallel with the creek for a mile or so then stopped. If this were a painting, crystal clear water would have flowed freely down the stream, a trout fisherman, wading, flicking his fly. There would have been two cougars drinking peacefully along the bank. The dirt path would have meant something. But it wasn’t. There were traces of oil on the man’s hands and the mason jar slipped when the gray haired woman handed it to him. It shattered in the driveway and sliced the woman’s finger when she picked it up. Four months later she would lose her finger.

The next gas station was in Youngstown. He filled up, parked his car, and went inside to piss. The rest area was big and busy. Three women in Ohio State jackets were looking at the map, pointing at Cincinnati. Two of them were thin, twins, brunettes. The other was a friend, blonde headed, frumpy. Her tits were small even though she was fat. She was eating onion rings and twisting the knob on the bubble gum machine. She bent down to get her gum and dropped two onion rings and a truck driver came out of the bathroom and stepped on them. She looked at his ass when he walked by. Jordan stood beside the twins and pretended to study the map, then got a piece of gum from the machine and spit it out before he got back in his car.

She was standing along the road with blood on her hands and cheeks when he pulled over and offered her a ride. Her eyes were hazel and sharp like a cheetah. Her sweatshirt was white and zipped in the front but she wore it open. There was no blood on her white jacket, only dirt and animal hair. She smelled wild, carnivorous.

“Were you in an accident, are you ok?”

“I’m fine thanks. Where you headed?"

“Nowhere in particular. I’m just driving. Do you need to go to a hospital?”

“No. I said I’m fine. Where are you going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Quit playing games or I can get back out and walk. I asked a simple fucking question.”

“I’m giving you a simple answer lady. Calm down.” She reached for the door handle but he locked it.

“What are you doing? Are you some creepy fucking pervert? Unlock the door.”

“Listen. I’m not crazy. Let’s start over. I’m Jordan. I left D.C. a few hours ago. I’m not sure where I’m going yet. I’m just driving, clearing my head. Tell me where you need to go and I’ll take you.”

“You drive straight through three states because you need to clear your head? And I thought I had problems.”

“What’s up with all the blood?”

“Oh that. It’s from the last guy who picked me up. I chopped his dick off and threw it along side the road.”

“Do you still have the knife?”

“No. I got rid of it. I have to make a phone call and get cleaned up. Can we stop somewhere?”

“Want me to stop and get a room for the night?”

“Why? You think you’re gonna get some pussy?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes it is. I need a ride. I don’t have any money. You figure I’ll just give you some pussy. I owe it to you right?”

“Wow, you do got problems. I just thought you might want a shower and some food and a good night’s sleep.”

“Look, all I want to do right now is go home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Michigan. Let me guess, you were headed that way.”

“Michigan? Let’s do it. I’ll pull over at the next rest area and let you get cleaned up and do whatever you gotta do, then we’ll drive straight through.”

“Where are you from again?”

“D.C.”

They stopped thirty-six miles ahead. She came out of the bathroom and there was no more blood on her cheeks, but she couldn’t get it out from underneath her fingernails even though she scrubbed hard with foamy pink soap. She took her sweatshirt off and her t-shirt was beige or tan and there was a spot of blood above her belly button that smeared when she got it wet and tried to rub it off.

“I’m thirsty. Can you grab me an iced tea?”

“It’s not sweet.”

“That’s ok. Grab me some M&M’s too, I’m sure they are.”

“Anything else?”

“Can you pop the trunk? I wanna throw my sweatshirt back there and take my shoes off.”

“I think there’s a pillow and blanket back there if you wanna take a nap. I know how to get to Michigan. Here’s the keys. I gotta piss.”

“Sounds good. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate this.”

There were wadded up paper towels clogging all four urinals so he went inside a stall. There was an ongoing conversation written in blue marker on the toilet paper dispenser. He pissed a little on the seat and wiped it off with toilet paper then flushed with his foot. His car was gone when he went outside. She left his pillow and blanket in a pile on the sidewalk, along with his clothes, cell phone, and wallet.