Reading the Music

Smoke and Cinnamon

He smells of smoke and cinnamon. Not the cigarette smoke type, but more of a campfire smell. But that cinnamon smell. Maybe he's from a bakery? Then why would be here? Either way, he smells good; kind of comforting and like home, even though my house definitely didn't smell like cinnamon and smoke.

"Why are you here?" I lean forward out of the open car door window and watch him as he crouches down and puts the gas nozzle in the opening in my car. He looks up at me after a second and brushes back his brown hair with a gloved hand. Still crouching, he reported his reply.

"Why am I here? Well, maybe because I work here. That's how we do it in Oregon, we pump your gas for you; it's my job. Are you not from Oregon?"

"Oh." I say blatantly, "Well I thought maybe you had another job, another life outside of pumping gas every night. A bakery, for instance?"

He chuckles. "No no, I couldn't bake or cook for the life of me. I do have a life outside of Sheldon Oil Company though. I'm in the process of getting another job and I fix cars most mornings. Now how about you? Why are you here?"

I sigh and lean forward even a bit more out of the window frame and run my fingers along the outside of the car door.

"I ran away." I keep my eyes on the fast changing cost for the also changing amount of gasoline. "I ran away from my so called home, my boyfriend, my job, my life-all of it."

"When did you leave?" He gets up and, still holding onto the nozzle, reaches forward to pat my arm. I stiffen up and he looks up at me, but after a moment I'm finding it a bit soothing.

"Two mornings ago. I'm fine with it, I guess. it was for the best. I just feel so stupid."

The gas pump beeps and he turns to it and pulls out the nozzle while he nods in acknowledgement of my comment. I pull myself back into the car and get the right amount of money out of my purse.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen but my birthday is coming up. It's a long story."

"Wait here." The tall man stood up with my money and walked back into the convenience store.

I don't over analyze his actions, as he is probably just getting me change. I really should have given him a tip. He is gone a while though, about ten minutes. I consider leaving, just pretending I didn't hear his last command, letting him keep the change. I start to back out of my spot, twisting around to look out the back window.

"Hey!" A voice calls out as I back out. "Hey, stop! Please!"

I stop abruptly and the car lurches forward a bit. The boy comes running up to me, no change in sight. "Where do you think you're going? I said I would be back as soon as I could!"

"Sorry, you were taking longer than I thought you would be so I didn't know if you were coming back or not."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the car sill. "May I ask you a question?"

I nod, and look into his chestnut brown eyes. "Where are you going?"

"Well," I pause, "All I know is that I have a cousin in Wisconsin that said I could visit her anytime if I needed to. I was going to figure it out once I finished getting gas."

"Can I go with you?"

I blink in surprise. Well, I guess there isn't any reason not to. I look at the back seats of the car. My dog is sleeping on one big pile of wrinkled clothes, empty water bottles, food containers, a pillow, and a few other odds and ends.