Casting a Line

Josh stood on the side of the road, arched his back and, in true angler form, pretended to reel in a ride. Brian laughed at his ingenuity, then pulled his rust-spotted, ten-year-old Honda Civic to the side of the road. Brian leaned across the passenger seat and rolled down the window. “Where you headed?”

Josh answered, “I’m going to Reading.”

“I can take you up to 299. Hop in if you like.”

Highway 299 runs east from the Pacific Coast, into the Trinity Alps, and straight through Reading, California.

“That’d be great,” Josh said with enthusiasm.

Brian cleared the passenger seat and floor of old newspapers and fast-food bags. “Sorry about the mess. I’m Brian by the way.”

“Thanks for stopping. I’m Josh.”

The streets were slick from last night’s storm. The sun forced its way through a patch of scattered cumulus clouds. Brian merged with oncoming traffic and brought the car up to speed. “You look wet. Did you get caught in the rain last night?” He asked Josh.

“When the storm hit, I tried to run for cover under the bridge over the bay, but I got soaked.”

Josh’s left cheek and bottom lip were swollen. A capillary in his left eye had burst.

“You look a little roughed up. Are you alright?” Brian asked.

“Two guys stole my pack when I was dosing off under the bridge,” Josh said as if embarrassed. “One of them kicked me in the face. They got my clothes and all my money.”

Brian reached into the back seat and grabbed a blanket. “Here. Wrap this around you.” Brian turned on the heat. “Are you hungry? I know a place where we can stop in Arcata.”

Brian had picked Josh up in Eureka, six miles south of Arcata.

Josh answered somberly, “No. That’s okay. I don’t want to put you out. I appreciate the ride”

“Don’t worry about it. I could go for something myself. My treat.”

Josh squirmed in his seat and adjusted his waist-length, brown, corduroy jacket that he wore with the collar up.

*

Brian and Josh walked into a small diner and sat at the lowered bar. A waitress poured coffee then pulled out her pad. “What can I get you gentleman this morning?”

Brian went first, “I’ll have an order of biscuits and gravy and an orange juice.”

She turned to Josh, “And for you sir?”

Josh looked at Brian.

“Get whatever you want,” Brian said.

“I’ll have an order of hash browns, two eggs over easy, an English muffin, and a large orange juice.”

The waitress yelled out the order. Brian took a sip of black coffee; he smiled, glad that he was able to help someone in need. Josh placed his wet jacket on the back of the stool. He excused himself and went to the bathroom. He washed his face and hands and checked his swollen face in the mirror, running his fingers through sandy-brown, shoulder-length hair. Josh removed his two layers of long-sleeve cotton t-shirts, and dried them under the hand dryer. When he returned to his seat, the waitress was serving their food. Refreshed, Josh sat down and thanked Brian again.

“Don’t worry about it. Eat up.”

*

Parked in the Arcata Community Forest, Josh blew smoke out the window. He passed the joint back to Brian. “I lost my job welding in Sacramento for smoking weed. The boss found a bag of speed on the bathroom floor and made all six of us take a drug test. He fired three and two quit.” The pot had loosened Josh’s tongue and he continued. “I tried one of those system-cleansing drinks, but it didn’t work. The funny thing is that I was buying weed from my manager. He didn’t have to take the test.” Paul Simon sang from the radio, I can get all the news I need from the weather report. I can gather all the news I need from the weather report. Josh wiped his nose on his sleeve. “What are you doing out here in Humboldt?”

“My wife and I are at the university. We’re graduating in the spring.”

“That’s cool. What’s your major?”

“Environmental Engineering.” Brian stretched his neck to catch a glimpse of the sky through the windshield. “Looks like the clouds are returning. We’d better get you on your way. Let me take a leak and then we’ll go.”

Brian unzipped among the Redwoods with his back to the car. Josh sat for a moment then slid into the driver’s seat. He started the car with the keys Brian had left in the ignition. Brian turned around with his fly down and watched Josh jerk the car into reverse and then drive off on the winding road toward the park exit. Brian didn’t yell; he didn’t swear; he just stood dismayed, pissing on his left foot.

*

After walking the mile to the university, Brian stopped at a pay phone outside the student center. He reached into his front pant pocket, pulled out change from breakfast, and called the police. He told them they’d find Josh heading west on 299 toward Reading.

The rain returned. Brian jogged to the library to pick up books he’d placed on reserve. Standing at the front desk, the librarian greeted him, “Good afternoon sir. Do you have your school id.?”

Brian remembered that he’d left his wallet in the glove compartment.

He thought about Josh.