The Hitchhiker

I found him on South Elk Road.

A narrow dirt road stemming from long forgotten and swampy trails only traveled by worms and burrowing beetles. He stuck his thumb out, gazing blankly across the road and rubbing his nose. A baggy grey sweatshirt covered him like a potato sack. On closer inspection, I saw he was fairly young. Dirty blond hair pricked upward and in different directions like a matted rabbit and a single red leaf stood pointedly from the top of his head like a cherry. His lips stretched out thinly across his face and his amber eyes squinted me down. I thought he could've been quite handsome. He only sniffed when I pulled up to him, not a single change occurred in his stern face.

"Need a ride?" I said. I lowered my cheap gas station glasses. Misha gave a little whine during her yawn, the top of her square muzzle and white teeth peek-a-booed into my top rear-view mirrors.

The boy climbed into the backseat. He filled the car with dust and I wrinkled my nose.

"You can ride in the front if you want," I said. He shook his head in a no.

"Wherever you're going I'll go. I'll leave at that point and go my own way." His voice spoke softly, his words blunt, yet passive and rather fearful as it shook. It was a weak voice, sick and tired. He squished a wad of cash and change into the cup holder and wrapped his arms around Misha. In an instant he looked very frightened and tiny with the dog in his arms. I handed him the bucket of snacks and pressed my foot to the gas. The car teetered in an array of directions and dust billowed behind.

"So," I said. "What's your name?"

He placed a pretzel in his mouth and chewed very gently, like a child slowly nibbling on their vegetables. "Lewis," he said. "I'm 14."

"What school do you go to?"

"A nasty public one."

"You've got these answers rehearsed."

He shrugged. "I hitchhike a lot." Misha whined and Lewis brought a pretzel close to her face and she delicately took it with her tongue.

"So, Lewis, what are you doing all the way out here?"

He shrugged again.

"Of course you know why you're here." I said. Lewis shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I ran away"

I adjusted the rear-view mirrors so as to see him better. "Ran away? I bet your family is worried sick," I said. "Do you want to call them? Are you hungry? How long have you been away from home? My goodness..." I spoke sweetly to the boy even though in reality I was genuinely concerned with having a runaway in my car. Rain subtly kissed my wind shield. Clouds swarmed the sky like a black endless beast.

"I like to be alone. Not, alone alone I suppose but I can't take rowdy schools and hollow friends and a family who cares more about a shyness problem then my actual wellbeing." He spoke sharply. Suddenly. Thunder cracked. He laid his head down on Misha and sniffed. "I've been running for a month I think. Police cars have come by looking for me, but they've disappeared now," thunder again. "I think they think I'm dead."

I wanted to turn around and shake this kid back into his right mindset. "Go back to them." 

"I don't want to."

I pulled over to the side of the road and opened my phone. "Call them. At least let them know you're alive!"

"It's too late for that!"

"No!" I breathed, slowly, slowly. I did not want to get angry at some moody 14 year old that happened to drive away with me in my car. "It's better now than never. The ride stops here, kid."

After a moment's hesitation he took the phone with shaky hands. He dialed a number. "I miss my dog." He whispered very solemnly. "The only reason I'll consider going back is for my dog, my dog, I love my dog..." He trailed off when a faint blubbering came from the phone. He hung up.

"Lewis!" I snapped around to see him face to face. He had his face burrowed in Misha's coarse coat. "I don't like being alone. Alone, alone that is." He handed the phone to me, "I want to go home." He muttered. The red leaf on his hair span to the carpeted floor, he looked so miserable.  I tapped on the phones most recent calls and called them up myself. I frowned. I would keep Lewis company until the police got here.

"They said they'll get here ASAP. That's quite a distance you trekked, Lewis. I'm surprised you're not starving."

"I am starving" he muttered.

A moment of silence passed.

"You didn't tell me," he spoke, a lot calmer, his eyes barely peeking above Misha's fur. "What are you doing all the way out here?" I turned back around and readjusted my rear-view mirrors. Out of all the things I could be, –

"- I'm a hypocrite," I said calmly. "I ran away a while ago. Not that it matters, I dropped out early, had a job and enough for gas and snacks. My parents probably forgot about their rambunctious child anyway."

            Lewis sniffed again. "That leaves two options," he said. His amber eyes squinted sternly.

"What do you mean?"

He snatched my phone from the front and tapped on the contact so plainly and stupidly labeled as Mom. He dialed it up. I clicked my seatbelt and started climbing back, my heart pounded. I gripped his sweatshirt. He held the phone to his ear. The gentle buzzing tortured me.

"Either you talk to them, or I'll talk to them for you."