It All Started When...

Potty Break Of Doom

The next time we stopped, I was redlining my poor sedan. It groaned in protest as we bumped into the station. This one looked slightly better than the last one, but it had loose gravel instead of asphalt.

   "Potty Break!" I informed Liam, hurrying out of the car.

   He gave me a funny look, but I just pressed an all purpose gas station gift card into his hands (Margaret's way of making sure I have just enough gas to get to school, work, and back.)

   I hurried through the doors and was blasted by cool air. I spun around blissfully. I took my loose hair into my hands and pulled it off my neck.

   "Hot out there, huh?"

   An older gentleman sat behind the counter, smiling at me good-naturedly. He had a grimy baseball cap and a salt and pepper beard. His teeth were yellow, and I counted at least three golden ones.

   "Yes, sir!" I sighed , "My AC crapped out about an hour ago. I couldn't get it to turn back on."

   He laughed, "I could take a look at it, if you want. I used to be a mechanic, but after I lost my hand in Afghanistan, nobody wanted to hire me."

   For the first time, I noticed the man had a stump where his hand should have been. I grimaced rudely, then caught myself.

   "I'm sorry." I said automatically, ducking my head.

   "It's alright! Lots of people react that way. Now, which car's yours?"

   I paused, "Oh, it's okay. You've got to say and man the fort! I'll survive."

   Man the fort?

   "Oh, s'alright." He grumbled, getting out of his chair. "You're the first customer I've had all day! I ain't got nothin' better to do."

   "Well... I guess." I relented, "it's the little white one, kinda dirty looking." I pointed.

   The old man lumbered out of the store, headed to my car. He walked with a slight limp and I wondered how he'd lost his hand.

   A little late, I wondered if he had ulterior motives. Maybe he wanted to steal my non-existent stash of cash in the glove box. However these thoughts disappeared when I spotted the bathroom sign. I really had to pee.He can keep whatever he finds. I'm pretty sure there's only a melted sucker in the cup holder anyways.

We shall not speak of the state of that un-holy restroom.

   I meandered through the aisles, looking for off-brand snacks. They had BlackCookies, TWISTY FRUIT, and SourEarthSnakes.

Creative. I thought, brushing hair out of my face. I tugged my jean shorts down again. A nervous tic, though I wasn't sure what I was nervous about.

The coolers hummed softly, calling me to them. There was nothing more enticing than a plastic bottle filled with cold soda, but I didn't think I could afford one. I only had 5$ on me.

   "Ugh." I grouched, "Stupid inflation...."

I stopped in front of the chips, wondering what flavor of Potato Thins Liam would like best.

Liam.

Ruh-roh.

   Forgetting about food, I jogged out of the store and into the parking lot, searching for the old cashier. I sincerely hoped Liam hadn't started a fight with the nice man.

   "Over here ma'am." A gruff voice sounded from my right, and I turned.

   The man was leaning against a beat up truck, his own I would assume, and beckoning me over. He had a strange look on his face. I glanced around, then started walking his way. Suspicion was crawling all over my skin.

   "Howdy, miss." He shifted uncomfortably, peering over my head.

   I felt my eyebrows furrow. Why the sudden change? Friendly to creepy....

   "You, ummm...." He glanced over my shoulder again, "You in'a fix?"

    Confused, I looked behind me. Liam was leaning against the car, glaring at the gas meter.

So, he can fill up a car, but he can't do a simple handshake?

I looked back to the old man, who was turning a little red.

"You know, I've got a phone in the station. It's just a quick call."

I stared at him blankly, then it clicked.

Oh.

Oh.

I felt my face get hot. "Oh, n-no, sir! That won't be necessary!"

"You sure?" He asked skeptically, "That's a mighty big boy for you, girl."

I wanted to melt into the ground.

"It's not like that, I promise you. He's a friend."

"If you say so." He huffed, relenting, "Well, 'spose I should look at that AC, now."

He turned and started hobbling towards the car. He had a sort of fierce look to his face.

"No!" I yelped, picturing what would happen if he decided to interrogate Liam.

Nothing good. I decided. Definitely nothing good.

He glanced at me, probably wondering if I was lying against my will. I wondered how to make him believe I wasn't being kidnapped.

"We should really get going, ya' know!" I covered, shuffling away. "Plane to catch and all that! Bye!"

I jogged over to the car.

"Liam, get in!" I commanded, "We've got to go!"

He turned his glare on me, "Why?"

"Because that one-handed man over there thinks you've kidnapped me! He wanted to repair the AC, but now he wants to call the cops. Do you have to look so intimidating?"

He narrowed his eyes at me, "What?"

"Just get in!"

I made sure the cashier was watching, then slid into the drivers side. I waved at him.

Would my kidnapper let me drive? I asked him silently. I think not! Therefore, I have not been kidnapped.

He seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he turned and walked back into his little station.

Liam finally got the nozzle back onto the pump. He carefully lowered himself into the seat, wincing as his foot slid on the loose gravel.

I pulled out onto the main road, relieved we got out of there. A sigh of relief rested on my lips.

Suddenly, blue and red lights lit up the dashboard.

WeeeeeeeWoooooWeeeeeWooooo

In the seat beside me, Liam's eyes shot open. "Shi-"