Friends Down Low (ONC2022)

Chapter 8 - The Saint

The town of Dodge Point was as stereotypical of a small, Midwest town as one could imagine. It consisted mainly of a stretch of old-fashioned Main Street with a few occupied avenues branching from it. Beyond that lay a maze of rural roads, designed at the whims of local politicians and farmers, that could have one driving into confusing madness for hours.

"You sure you don't want me to just drop you off in town?" I asked McGavin.

"Nope. Just head on out to the highway. I'm assuming that something will stop us from leaving and I'm too curious to know if I'm right. Then, we can go get pecan pie together."

"But if nothing stops us, I'm not turning around and bringing you back. I'm getting on the highway and then the turnpike and then I'm gone. And, you're nice and all, but I'm not taking you home with me."

McGavin laughed. "That's fine. You can just drop me on the side of the road then."

Great. Now my escape plan culminated with leaving a blind man on the side of a highway. McGavin probably knew I wouldn't do that. The man was playing me like a fiddle.

His machinations faded quickly from my mind when I saw the roadblock and flashing lights. A police cruiser and a pickup truck had joined forces and parked end to end across the road just before the onramp to the highway. An officer and man in plainclothes stood outside their vehicles, both armed with rifles. While I assumed this had to be some terrible coincidence, I instinctively slowed down, coming almost to a stop.

McGavin sensed the change in speed. "What's up?"

"Roadblock."

"Ha. Our new destination is delicious pie then."

"Hold on. There could be a hundred reasons for a cop to block a road."

McGavin made a show of using his finger to push his ear towards me. "I'm listening."

"There could be an accident ahead. Construction. Traffic jam. Sobriety checkpoint."

"Fair enough. Describe the roadblock to me. In detail."

I complied, right down to the color of the truck. McGavin pounced on one bit of information.

"They have weapons at the ready. A rural cop and a civilian have a road blocked and are waiting with shotguns in hand. After all that's happened in the last day, you think that's a safe confrontation to have? Especially after we already said that something would be in place to stop you from leaving town?"

I came ever so close to repeatedly banging my head on the steering wheel. Was this just a simple coincidence or too much coincidence? I broke the situation down to its simplest form. My new trio of acquaintances had warned me that something would prevent my leaving and now two armed men barred my path. Better safe than sorry, I supposed.

"Fine. Let's go get pie. After we're done, we'll drive back and see if they still have the road blocked."

"That's the best idea you've had since we met," McGavin said happily.

I drove back into town and parked on Main Street outside a restaurant imaginatively monikered as The Diner. I suppose if you had the only diner on the main road there was no need for further creativity.

As we exited the car, I noticed several passersby intently staring at us. Not all of them, but those who did really watched. I understood that we were strangers in a rural town unaccustomed to any form of tourist activity. I also couldn't discount my companion's lime green suit being an attention grabber. Or maybe there was something more sinister afoot. Whatever the case, the eyes sent shivers up my spine and I practically shoved McGavin into the diner.