Man-Eat-Man World: a Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fanfic

The Smell of Smallness

          The silhouette of a hawk circled the clear, blue sky making it look like a shadow or death itself with the sun hanging directly above it. The dark outline of its feathers streaked across the land below and onto the reddened, freckled face of a young girl walking the long stretch of dirt and asphalt. She looked at the hawk and squinted her hazel eyes behind her glasses as the sun's rays reflected off of the golden flecks that peeked out from the green in her round eyes. She only stopped momentarily before continuing along her journey she made nearly everyday.
          The girl deeply breathed in the hot air around her with her chest expanding with the action. A few months ago, she would have passed out by now. The smells of the journey could be very contradicting with that of wildflowers and honeysuckles and then the next moment burnt tires and roadkill festering in the sun. It was overwhelming, no doubt, but it was something that just needed getting used to. Walking was a hobby for her so the walk itself hadn't phased her much. It was the heat that could be suffocating at times.
          Her eyes glanced to her equally red and freckled shoulder as she slathered the SPF that hadn't yet absorbed into her skin. She wasn't dark or even tan. Just red in some places and pale in the others. If she didn't use at least an SPF of 60 then she would surely get sun poisoning.
          It's funny how small you could feel when walking such a long way; with nothing but your surroundings and thoughts to keep you entertained. The girl had thought about work and how she moved here in the city of Newt to study the environment for forestry experience. However, most of thoughts were fixated on what was to come. What was next? Was this it? Where do I end up? She shook her head quickly and rubbed her temples not knowing whether her oncoming headache was from the heat or thinking too hard.
          She jumped slightly when she heard a phlegm-y cough and turned to look at the lone gas station she passed on her way to work. Fields of grass spanned for miles around the road and then barely subsided in order for someone to even see the "Last Chance" gas station. It was in no way impressive with only two rusty gas pumps in the front of the little building. The cough was emitted by a bald man near the front door that seemed to stare off into the sky. He had with him a bucket of dirty water and a rag that didn't seem fit to clean anything, let alone the windshield of a vehicle.
          The girl stopped for only a moment with the toe of her sneaker grinding on the dry dirt and gravel to think. Since she spent so much time outside, she could almost accurately tell the time by looking at the sun's position. Today the sun told her she still had plenty of time to get to work and maybe do something else before then. It was one of those days where it was exceptionally hot, and only today did she notice the old Coke machine by the gas station's screen door. After rubbing the back of her neck and glancing back at the road, she made her way down the dirt path and to the "front porch". The man still payed no attention to her as her sneakers cracked the rocks on the concrete surface. She turned to look at him and then back at the Coke machine that looked like it was from the 50s or 60s.        
The shade of the awning was comforting as she reached in her pocket and felt around for a nickel. When the cool metal met her fingers, she slipped the coin into the slot with a soft clank. Then she waited.
          Really? She looked dejectedly, not wanting to give her hopes up yet, and pushed down the lever. She really hoped that her nickel wasn't eaten and she sighed deeply trying again and again. The man in the trance still didn't turn around when she struggled and only seemed to snap out of it when he heard the screen door move, though his only response was another cough.
          The girl didn't notice the door and kept trying to get her drink out of the old machine.
          "Here, I gotcha," said an old Southern voice.
          She barely turned to look when a boot struck the side of the machine and her Coke came tumbling to the bottom, causing her to jump a little.
          "Thank you," she sighed gratefully, and looked up while reaching for her drink. Next to her stood a man who couldn't have been much older than mid-sixties, but no younger than fifty. He nodded his head as a response and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. The way his face wrinkled and how he scratched his greyish-brown receding hairline showed that he was trying to remember something.
          "I don't remember seein' you in these parts," he stated, "are ya new here?"
          "Not really, sir," she politely answered, "I've been here for nearly three months. I walk this road every day except for Sunday."
          The man's eyes quickly darted from the road to her and seemed to house some disbelief, "In this sun? You'd get cooked alive out there."
          The girl smiled at the thought that she was defying nature and the old man just chuckled seeing her smile that shone almost brighter than the sun.
          "Where ya headin' to anyhow?" he said beckoning for her to come inside. She followed him inside and sat on a bench while occasionally sipping her Coke telling him how she worked at a burger place up the road and how she ended up in such a small town in the first place. The man seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, offering his input here and there. The girl learned that the man's name was Drayton Sawyer but called him Mr. Sawyer against his wishes because she thought it was impolite to call him something else. He appreciated the thought coming from someone so young since he had nearly lost faith in the younger generations.
          Drayton offered her a ride to work, though she politely declined and started on her journey again, waving him goodbye. After this encounter, the girl would come to the gas station every other day and bring spare nickels with her as an excuse to talk to Mr. Sawyer. He was very nice and seemed to enjoy her company as they talked about many different things on their short visits. At some point, she had told him her name but he couldn't correctly pronounce it so he called her something that sounded like it; Sunshine. He only saw it more fitting from the way her smile seemed to lighten the dull, little wooden building.
          From this day on, Sunshine was grateful to have found someone to talk to and Drayton was equally as happy. He wondered if sometime she'd like to come over for dinner.