The sleek black Porsche looked out of place as it slid between two enormous trucks and silently pulled up to the pump. There was a quarter tank showing on the gauge, but the tall impeccably groomed man would take no chances. It might be a long way to the next gas station and he was not familiar with this part of the country. He really didn’t know what town in Arizona he was in, or even if there was a town he could consider himself to be in. The sun had not set. There were no lights yet to glow over nearby hills indicating a larger population than those few souls working in the truck stop.
He waited for the last drop of gas to drip from the nozzle before pulling it from the car’s tank. His bills were crisp new notes from the bank and he couldn’t help noticing the grease on the cashier’s hand as he paid for his gas. He hoped his change would be clean. He caught his reflection in the glass of the cashier’s booth and continued to watch it as his change was counted out. What a life, he thought as he considered briefly the simple 20-something in dirty coveralls that was now returning to work on a tire.
He was careful not to throw gravel as he drove onto the access road and headed for the entrance to the freeway. Don’t need to tick off some local bozo, he thought. Approaching the onramp he spotted a man obviously looking for a ride. The man didn’t stick out his thumb or wave or do anything in particular to indicate a request, but somehow it was evident he was looking for a ride. Sorry bud, he thought as he accelerated past the man and deftly pulled into the flow of a few cars heading east. In his rearview mirror blinding light from the flaming orange ball shimmered off the pavement as it set on the horizon. He adjusted the mirror to get the reflection out of his eyes, shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position and opened the throttle.
The lights of Flagstaff were just starting to twinkle as he shot onto the highway that would circle and bypass the town. He was not ready to call it a night and wanted to see how close he could get to Texas before he was. Banking into a curve in the road his headlights caught the figure of the man standing just off the pavement. How in the world did that dude beat me here?, he wondered as he realized he had seen the same hitchhiker back at that truck stop earlier in the evening. In his mirror he saw the man turn and watch his taillights as he disappeared into the night.
An hour or so later, the lights of Winslow began to appear scattered across the horizon. It was time for another pit stop and some hot coffee. This car is nice, thought the man, but it does get cramped after a few hours. It would be good to stretch his legs and he started watching for a good place to stop. Winslow Arizona looked dead though. He still had some fuel and decided he could make a few more miles.
The gas station was new and had all the amenities any road traveler would require including full service. The self-service islands were full but that was no problem for him as he pulled up to the pump and triggered his fuel cap cover. "Fill ‘er up", he said to the young attendant as he stretched and then strolled easily toward the coffee shop. Inside he headed to the counter and picked a stool equal distance from two patrons 3 stools away from him on either side.
"Black coffee to start", he said to the aging desert queen with bleached hair precariously clipped in a pile on top of her head.
“Sure thing doll”, she replied, handing him a menu and reaching under the counter for his cup.
He was hungrier than he realized and the smell of grease hanging in the air brought burger and fries to mind. No need to read the menu, he knew it was there. “Burger and fries”, he said to the queen, and then swallowed half of his coffee in three quick slurps.
“How bout a nice piece of apple pie and ‘nilla ice cream with that, doll?” she asked.
“No thanks”, he replied, "but you can hit my coffee cup again when you get a chance".
“Right now, sweet thang”, she cooed in her easy desert drawl. She winked but it was wasted as he turned to scan the interior of the shop.
The coffee shop opened into a large, well stocked gift shop that had everything from genuine Indian trinkets made in Taiwan, to shirts with slogans appealing to an age accustomed to flash and dazzle. Turning back to his coffee his eyes caught a glimpse of the hitchhiker he had spotted twice already today. No way!, he thought as he considered the odds.
Standing just outside on the sidewalk, the well-lit canopy and close proximity afforded a clear view of the man. There was nothing particularly unusual about him. He was neither attractive nor unattractive. Nondescript. Except his eyes. There was something about those eyes. Hard to put a finger on what it was but they seemed peaceful somehow - whatever that could mean, he decided. His dress was simple but clean. It was hard to say where he might be from judging from his looks. His hair was dark and hung in loose natural curls not much over the collar. He had a rather large nose, almost Arabic looking. His shirt was white cotton, like something you might find along the Mexican border, and hung below the waist. His pants were simple khaki casuals, old and faded. Over one shoulder hung a small knapsack that didn’t seem to be much of a burden.
The hitchhiker appeared to be gazing across the landscape at nothing in particular. But suddenly he turned fully around and his eyes locked on the eyes of the Porsche man. Quickly averting his gaze, the man swung his stool back to the counter just as his food arrived. The encounter had not at all been threatening but he certainly did not want to encourage this guy. Hopefully he would catch a ride and be gone before the burger was.
As he ate his dinner, he watched a young couple enter and head for a booth in the corner. He eyed the attractive young lady, hoping she would notice him get into his Porsche when he left. She was not aware of his admiration and remained occupied with her partner laughing and touching his hand across the table.
At the cash register, the desert queen made one last attempt to engage the man in enough conversation to reassure her she was still pretty. The man sensed her need and made a conscious effort not to feed it as he cast a glance over his shoulder at the corner booth, accepted his change, walked out the door and ran full force into the hitchhiker.
The hitchhiker smiled as his steady hand grasped the man’s shoulder to help him keep his balance. "Excuse me sir", said the hitchhiker, although they both knew the accident had not been his. The knapsack had been knocked to the ground and they both instinctively reached for it almost making full contact again in the effort. They laughed and the man handed the knapsack to the hitchhiker as they straightened up.
What the heck, thought the man. He’s clean and doesn’t look like much of a threat. "I’m heading east, going through Texas", he said. "You need a lift that direction?", he asked.
"Yes, thank you. I’d appreciate it if it would be no trouble", replied the hitchhiker.
"Come on then, I got that black thing over there at the pump."
"This is a beautiful car", said the hitchhiker as they both buckled their seatbelts. "I’m sure you are grateful to have a gift like this."
"Gift? No, this baby was no gift", said the man. "This gem hits me every month with a payment that is anything but gift. I have another four years of those payments if I keep ‘er but I’ll probably trade in for something else in a year or so."
The headlights made a tunnel in the night as they knifed down the road. Luminous center stripes flickered quickly away and telephone poles flew past like fence posts. Pushing the throttle to the floor, the car lurched forward with a throaty rush and left the speed limit far to the left of his speedometer needle.
The man had just spent long hours without conversation and found himself talking about his work, a bar he liked to go to for happy hour, a lady or two he had met there – nothing really came of it but they were fun until he got to know them. The hitchhiker sat quietly listening to the man speak of all the important things in his life. Promotions that he’d need to fight a couple guys for, that blonde that moved in next to his friend Frank’s apartment, his favorite drink. And his sleek black Porsche that he knew this temporary friend had never before ridden in anything like. It was also very likely he never would again and the man was enjoying making his one time special. This ‘ol boy will be telling his friends about this for a long time he thought as he danced the car deftly through the turns and over a quick rise in the road that made his stomach feel like it was in his throat.
The blackness of the night surrounded the beam of his headlights and the highway flowed like a river through space. “Ya know, if ya didn’t have the stripes in the road, this could be a scene from some spaceship scootin between all these stars”, he mused to his guest as he took in the diamond sparkles that glittered in the sky.
“That’s true”, said the hitchhiker. "It makes you feel rather small in the total scheme of things, doesn’t it?”, he asked.
“Yeah, you got that right”, said the man. Sorta spooky. I don’t know how anyone can live out here in the middle of Rooster Poo Nowhere. I mean obviously they live out here somewhere otherwise there wouldn’t be anybody to work the gas stations”, he said with a chuckle. “I’d go nuts myself.”
“You might find other priorities in your life if you lived somewhere like this”, said the hitchhiker.
“Yeah, like collecting rocks and arrowheads, huh”?, he asked.
The hitchhiker laughed.
“No, I think I’ll stay right where I am. I’m a big city boy. I need my women and night life and I don’t see that happening out here. You see that waitress back at the coffee shop? If that was all I had to scheme on I’d shoot myself. One too many and she might start looking pretty good”, said the man.
The hitchhiker smiled. “Do you read”?, he asked.
“Just the news sometimes on the Net”, replied the man. Got reading out of my system in college. I mean I used to read, mostly Sci-Fi stuff. I went through a phase where I read some mystical stuff like reincarnation, higher planes, stuff like that. But now I’m all work in the day and all play in the night”.
"But you went through a search for the meaning of life, did you?", asked the hitchhiker.
"Yeah, don't we all at some point? I mean until you get your bearings in life, start making a few bucks and acquiring all the trappings of apple pie and motherhood, everybody tries to figure what's it all about", said the man. "I know where I am in life and I don't need that spiritual stuff anymore really. I got about everything I need."
“Do you believe in Jesus Christ”? asked the hitchhiker.
“Whew. That’s a tough one” said the man. He set his eyes on the horizon and narrowed his brow in deep thought. “I believe this Jesus guy was a real person and he was good and all that, but I dunno . . . those were some pretty simple people back then. I mean, I definitely believe in a higher power of some sort. How bout you, you believe there really was a Jesus?", he asked, turning to face the empty seat where the hitchhiker had been sitting.
- end -
NOTE: Years ago when I was a young kid serving a sentence in the US Navy, we had a bull session in the barracks and swapped stories and lies. It has been a long time since then - about 1970 or 71 - and I don't remember all the details. But one of the guys said he heard about some guy that picked up a hitchhiker and . . . actually the original version was pretty vague. It was one of those times when just enough story was told so that your imagination was left to fill in the blanks; like radio used to do when actors did radio theater, which I personally enjoyed more than movies. So I have taken that story's basic theme and wrapped my own words around it.
The verbal version went something like this, "Hey wow, I heard a weird story. This guy picked up a hitchhiker and the hiker got in the back seat. When the guy got it up to about 70 the hitchhiker started talking about stuff and asked him if he believed in Jesus. When the guy turned around to answer the hiker had disappeared and they were still doin over 70!!!!"
We all thought that was pretty cool but that was about it. I have always been intrigued with that story though so I decided to fluff it out a bit. Let me know what you think.
© 23 August 2001
Bobby Hitt
Here is an interesting website with good background in what it seems is a long tradition of vanishing hitchhikers. Take a look at: Answers.com
since 23 August 2001