Driftwood: The Runner

Chapter 1

Here I am. On the road again.

Cars passing me left and right.

I was on the interstate coming from Mississippi, just driving. Had been for some hours until I saw a sign that read Andersville, Alabama. Exit 18A. Eighty miles.

Never been there before.

I took the exit and drove my navy 1996 Dodge Ram about an hour until I came upon this small town.

It was every bit what a country town should be; quaint, comfortable, and seemingly welcoming. I passed buildings that looked as though they'd withstood the Civil War. There was a small market called The Market (of all things), a hardware store, a tiny library, bed and breakfast, a few business offices, and a gas station with a mechanics shop.

I took a quick peek at my tank. Sure enough, I was about on empty. I quickly pulled Big Blue over to the gas station called Lucas Bros Automotive.

Getting out of my old faithful pick-up, I noticed the aging loiterers that sat in their lawn chairs, outside the door. They eyed me suspiciously and watched, intently, as I took long strides towards the entrance.

"G'day, fellas" I greeted the trio of elders.

They nodded their heads at me respectively as I walked into the little convenience store. The sound of the welcoming bell rang as I stepped inside. The place was stocked with the usual foods: chips, sodas, candy.

"Hey there, good-looking" I heard a sweet-sounding Southerner.

I turned to see a cute brunette, a lot younger than my thirty-eight-year-old self. Eighteen, maybe. She was stunning, with her kind green eyes and an inviting smile.

"Why hello there, Ma'am" I matched her kindness. "How has your day been?"

Her smile widened, revealing a missing canine. Repulsive. "It's much better now," she said, flirtatiously.

"I'm glad to hear it."

I'm not particularly a fan of women trying to seduce me. Believe it or not, I don't find that attractive and I appreciate this one for not shoving her desperation in my face. I indulge in their playfulness as most men would anyway, but most ladies find that my engagement is entirely out of friendliness.

I took off down the aisle, grabbing a cold Budweiser and a bag of potato chips, before coming face to face with the brunette.

Upon closer inspection, she was a knockout. Her green eyes were incredible, and her lips were a pretty pink. Were it not for that missing tooth; I'd more than happily buy what she's selling.

"This all for you, Mister," she asked, politely?

"This and fifteen on pump three," I informed her.

"Yes, sir. That'll be thirty-two even."

I pulled out my leather worn wallet. I only had a hundred bucks on my person and just below a grand in my truck. I needed to land a job quick. A thousand dollars may sound like a lot, but it doesn't go far.

After paying her, she asked, "And exactly what are you doing here? That is if you don't mind me asking."

I've got nothing to hide, so I told her honestly, "I'm just in town for a couple of months, looking for work. I'm a pretty skilled handyman. Y'know anyone who's needing a bit of help?"

She thought for a minute. "I can't particularly think of anyone. But I know there's an old plantation home about a twenty-minute drive from here. I pass it every day on my way to and from home. The lady who lives there, I hear, is old and stuff so maybe she could use your help with a few things around her house."