Till Next Time | completed | currently under re-edit

21

The engine bellows as the car slowly rolls to a halt in the middle of the highway, barely providing me time to park it to a corner.
"Fuck!", I slam on the steering wheel and get out of the car to inspect the damage. The heat radiating from the very surface of the bonnet discourages me from touching it. I look around.
Nothing but the dusty, scorching road and small patches of stunted dry grass growing on both sides of it.
I feel a chill pass down my spine. I roll the window to the backseat down and softly pat on Anastasia's head. I hate the feeling of being unprotected and alone. With her irritably waking up, the dense panic shifts a little.
"What?"
"The car malfunctioned."
The fatigue flies away from her drowsy body and her eyes shoot open, "What!"
"I think we'll have to call 911. There's nothing around."
I spot a cloud of dust billowing towards us. A truck.
Without thinking Anastasia sticks her arm up and waves frantically, "Hey!"
I grab her hand and force it down.
"What are you doing? Let go!" she yells at me.
The truck comes to a stop before us and a big burly man with a cowboy hat steps out.
"Is everything okay, miss?", he looks suspiciously at my steel grip around Anastasia narrow arms.
"Yes, sir," she wrenches her arm away from me, "Our car is not working."
"Oh. Mind if I took a look? I am a mechanic," he offers. Anastasia looks at me. I shrug.

He flinches away as soon as his fingers make contact with the bonnet, "Ah, son. I can't help you right now. The engine's gone too hot," he says in his thick ghetto accent, "But I can call my men and get them to tow the car to my garage. There's a small town, you can stay there until it's fixed."
"How long till it is?", I ask.
"I gotta take a look before I tell you that. Tell you what? Jump in my truck. I will drive you to town." He gets his phone out of pocket and dials.
"Aye, ask Jamal to send a tow truck, emergency at the 95."
For the first time, I spot two little heads with close cropped black hair peeking out through the window.

The tow truck finally arrives. The men exchange pleasantries and one proceeds to hook my car up.
"Okay," the burly man says to me, "I will have the boys sit on the back and you and your girl can take the front seat."
Your girl. My cheeks warm up like a fuzzy  teenager. Fuck me.
"Actually," Anastasia steps in, "Would you mind if we sit back there?"
"No, but are you sure?", he asks.
Anastasia smiles and nods. The man returns her smile.
I help Anastasia up as he gets our bags from the car.
"Sir," I call him, just as he is about to enter the car, "I didn't catch your name."
He smiles, "Call me Jed."

Anastasia is knocked out cold, her back against my torso and her hair whipping up at my face. Her head lolls over to a side and I hold her still to resist the jerks of the country road.
We pull into the first stint of civilization with the dying of the evening sun.
The tow truck before us takes a right turn and Jed turns left.
"That's where my garage is," Jed says.
He pulls up outside a big resort of kind.
"This is it," he shouts at us over the roaring engine.

"Look, look, who came over," an old woman on the other side of what looks like a reception table comes up and wraps Jed in a tight hug.
"How are ya doing, Connie?", Jed asks, returning the hug with almost the same intensity.
"Eh, the same. The knees are giving me trouble," she says dismissively, her voice cracking from old age.
"Connie, these kids need a place to stay. Their car went bust on the highway."
Connie adjusts her glasses over the bridge of her nose, "What are you here for?"
I let Anastasia do the talking, "We are here on a road trip."
"Where to?"
"Florida," Anastasia answers kindly.
"Hm. I have a cabin for ya, the one by the stream. Y'all better not be running away from your mamas."
I am running away from everyone. Does that count?
She limps over to her desk and retrieves a key. She chips it at me and I catch it in the air.
"Welcome to Cedar Cabins."

A knock on the door makes me curse from exasperation. I had just come from the reception and sat down.
"I'll get it," Anastasia offers. I let her.
A highly animated face pops up and looks inside through the slit of the door.
"Hi. Connie told me we had young guests. We never have young guests," the dude speaks with the speed of a bullet in air.
"And you are?", I ask.
"Oh. Sorry. My name is Terry. Connie is my grandmother. We never have young people staying here, just old folks who want some peaceful time," Terry says.
Anastasia gives a light hearted laugh, "We kind of had an issue with our car. Anyway, I'm Anastasia. That's Brooklyn. Nice to meet you."
They shake hands.
Terry looks around, from Anastasia to me.
"Um, you need something?", Anastasia eventually asks.
"Oh yes! I forgot," he smacks himself at the back of his head. I roll my eyes.
"See, there's a barn to the right of the entrance from which you came in. Every night some folks gather over there and jam out to some guitar over beer and cigarettes. The old folks all sleep early but y'all are young. So I came to invite you over."
"That's really cool!", Anastasia exclaims at the end of my patience.
I walk over to the door, "Thank you, Terry. We'll think over it. Good night."
I shut and lock the door.

A/N: *teeth chattering intensifies*