Dead Stop (9 page)

“…so who is
Harley’s date?”

Once again the
mental train lurched to a stop, and Deke spent a frozen moment staring at the
girl.

“Huh?”

“The other girl?

“Oh…uh…Harley’s
date?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…uh…”

Stacey rested
her chin in her hand and raised her eyebrows at him.

“Doesn’t
Harley have a date?”

“Well…actually…not
yet.”

“Hmmm…” She
looked down the bar to where his friend still had the trucker occupied. “I wouldn’t
have thought Harley to be the type to have trouble finding a date.”

“Oh…well…” He
thought fast. “He’s only been back from the army a few months. He’s just been
kind of settling in. You know how it is.”

“Ah, I suppose
that makes sense.”

Deke held his
breath, trying to figure out if Stacey was buying any of this and whether he
had a date with her or not. She continued to look down the bar, apparently deep
in thought. Then a certain calculating gleam came into her eyes.

“Okay, Deke.”
She turned back to him with a warm smile. “A day at the lake sounds like fun.
But we do need to get poor Harley a date so he won’t feel weird…and I’ll have
another girl to talk to.”

“We?” Deke
queried, now torn between joy over Stacey’s acceptance and dismay over the
twist of events it led to.

“Yep. But
that’s okay. I know just the girl.”

“You do?”

“Uh huh. I’m
thinking Marisa.”  Stacey looked inordinately pleased with herself about
something.

“Marisa? That
Marisa?” He gestured over to where the other waitress was bringing Doc
Sutherland another coffee.

Marisa must
have heard something because she looked back over at him sharply. Stacey
flashed the other waitress a brilliant smile and wriggled her fingers at her,
causing the raven haired beauty to give her a puzzled look before going back
towards the kitchen.

“Sure. Marisa
would enjoy a day at the lake. If Harley will take her with him, I’d be happy
to hang out with you guys.”

“Really?”

“Sure! You
don’t think Harley will mind, do you?”

Not if he
knows what’s good for him.

“Nah. I can’t
see Harley objecting to something like that.”

 “Great!”
she chirped and stood back up. “Your job is to see to it Harley asks her out
tonight…and I’ll see to it she says yes. This is going to be fun!”

Deke could
only stare at her for a second in helpless wonder.

Then a smile
of his own slowly grew to answer hers.

Oh crap! I
love this girl! Okay Mr. “Trust me”. You’re now in this with me, so you can
just put your money where your mouth is.

###

Nightfall –
Buddha Boy

“
How deep is your love
…
How deeeep is your
love.  I really need to leeeearn…
 
”

Gary “Buddha
Boy” Norville’s high pitched voice rang off the white painted cinder block
walls of the Textro’s shower. In the steamy confines of the room, his huge
white body glowed like a pale moon in the mist.

“Okay, Buddha
Boy,” a voice drawled from the other end of the room. “That’s the last song I
want to hear a fat guy singing while I’m sharing a shower room with him. I’m
out of here.”

Gary giggled
like a school girl.

“You ain’t my
type, Red! Besides, I got a date planned for tonight anyway.”

“Lizzie ain’t a
date, Gary,” Red Tex noted, “She’s a transaction.”

“Ha! You’re just
mad because she charged you the same for those two minutes as she does for half
an hour.”

Gary laughed
again as Red Tex Collier turned off his shower and wrapped a towel around his
waist. The lanky redhead pulled his hat from where he had hung it on a
protruding soap dish and squashed it down on his wet locks before walking out
with all the bow legged dignity he could muster.

“Hey!” he yelled
after the departing figure, “Don’t forget to leave that cologne on the bench.
I’ll get it back to you later!”

Buddha Boy
couldn’t hear Red Tex’s mumbled reply over the sound of the shower, but knew
the guy was good for it. Red Tex was good people. The big trucker giggled
happily and returned to the business of methodically cleaning every inch of his
massive, fish-white body.

He had no
illusions about his appearance, and had long ago accepted his fate to be
forever single. But while his options were reduced to the women who worked the
asphalt at truck stops across the US, he still approached each encounter with
all the hygienic care of a first date. Gary figured if a lady was willing to
endure his gargantuan bulk, the least he could do was smell nice for her.

So, before each
encounter he went through his ritual cleansing.

He always
brought a little stool into the shower with him so he could sit down and start
with his toes. The large trucker would then clean toe by toe, the tops and
bottoms of each foot, the ankle, and then work his way up inch by inch from
there. Each crease of fat was lifted and scoured clean, and every nook and
cranny sponged with care. His head and nether regions got the same treatment.
He had long ago undergone a procedure to remove all the hair on his head and
body, unwilling to tolerate even the moderate amount of dirt that could hide in
such growth.

And he always
sang through the entire procedure.

His voice made
him a natural for songs by Andy Gibb and the Bee Gees…and he occasionally mixed
those in…but his true favorites were those by Hank Williams Jr, Johnny Cash,
and Marty Robbins. The only problem was him singing any songs by those artists
was guaranteed to send an entire locker room into hysterical laughter, so Gary
always kept his song selection tailored to the circumstances at hand.

The singing got
him through what was otherwise a slow and painstaking process, but in fifteen
to twenty minutes Buddha Boy was the cleanest human being within a fifty mile
radius. Satisfied that no possible odor remained to offend even his own
delicate sensibilities, he turned off the shower…and stopped in mid-reach for
the towel at the sounds coming through the wall.

He had chosen to
bathe near the wall seperating the shower room from the mechanics garage
because it featured a long steel bar at waist height to make it handicapped
friendly. And while he didn’t exactly count as handicapped, he figured he was
close enough not to get too picky about it.

Now he stared at
the wall in surprise.

Just over the
clatter of an automatic air compressor, he could make out a scream. 

It was faint,
and whoever was doing it was drawing in short lungfuls of air between each
one…but there could be no mistaking the sound. A rattle and a couple of thuds
sounded through the wall as well, giving the impression of somebody thrashing
in distress. Images of somebody with his arm caught in a fan belt pulley
flashed across Buddha Boys mind, or maybe wounded by a power tool. There were a
lot of ways to get hurt in a mechanics garage. Whatever was happening over
there…somebody was in trouble.

“Hey, Red!” Gary
called out, “Do you hear that?”

The other
trucker didn’t answer.

“Red! Can you
run over to the garage? I think somebody is hurt over there, and needs help!”

Further silence
indicated Red must have already gotten dressed and headed up to the truck stop.
That left it up to Buddha Boy to deal with the emergency.

Gary grabbed his
towel and did a fast waddle towards the shower room exit, leaving his stool
behind. If somebody was really in trouble over there, then he couldn’t afford
to take the time to dry off and get dressed. A far better solution would be to
get to his cell phone in the locker and call Red Tex back to the building. The
other man could size up the situation and either render aid or get help long
before Buddha Boy could get dressed.

 He wasted
no time in pushing aside the little curtain and stepping out into the small
hall leading to the locker room. The fat man wiped the water out of his face as
he hustled down the hall, then came to a horrified stop as he stepped into the
locker room  proper.

Red Tex hadn’t
left the building after all…at least not in body.

The filthy crowd
surrounding him parted to turn their attention to Gary, revealing the wreckage
that had just moments before been the man sharing a shower with him. Red stared
at the ceiling, mouth open in a scream he must have never gotten the chance to
utter. His throat had been ripped out, windpipe and esophagus protruding like
twisted tubing in a car wreck. Blood covered his naked body and somehow the
flesh on the front of his entire torso had been torn downward in one large
dripping sheet…revealing now chewed muscle and the pale rib cage beneath.

His killers
appeared just as horrid.

Their ruined
faces drenched in blood, they grinned back at Gary like a bunch of crimson
skulls under matted, dirt-caked wigs. Strips of dripping skin, probably what
remained of their faces, hung below their chins like stringy beards. He stepped
back with a thin wail of fear as their small eyes fixed on him with laser-like
intensity. Their fingers spread like claws, and the horrors lurched for him in
one unnerving motion as if operating by a single mind.

They outnumbered
him more than ten to one.

Even worse, they
were between him and the exit.

Buddha Boy
shrieked and turned to flee. Even as he did, he realized there was nowhere to
run. But understanding that meant nothing compared to the tearing pain of his
skin parting as skeletal fingers sliced down his back and laid him open from
shoulder to hip. Blood ran down his pale legs in rivulets as the fat man tried
to get away. He floundered back into the steamy shower with the silent
scrabbling horde on his heels.

They caught him
in the corner…

…and his shrieks
hit higher notes than ever before.

###

Nightfall -
Grandpa Tom

Not bad kid.
Thomas
“Grandpa Tom” Burns chuckled to himself as he watched the young local boy walk
back towards his booth with a bemused expression on his face.
But I hope
you’re ready for a wild ride because that girl is definitely in the driver’s
seat.

The white-haired
trucker had been sitting closest to the waitress when Deke had approached. He
had just come in for a cup of coffee after filling his truck at the diesel pump
outside. Then he would be hitting the road again and making his way to Houston.
The old hauler had hoped to finish his coffee and get out of here before the
rain started, but saw from the drops starting to hit the big windows it wasn’t
likely to happen.

So Grandpa Tom
had sat and sipped his cup in a posture of minding his own business, while the
two youngsters arranged their tryst at the lake. It had taken a supreme act of
self control not to spit his coffee out in laughter at Deke’s floundering
approach. But he could tell by the fond look the girl gave the boy’s retreating
figure that as long as he hadn’t done something stupid, his success had already
been pretty much in the bag.

“And what are
you looking so smug about, Grandpa Tom?”

He looked up
from his cup to see the young waitress regarding him with mock haughtiness. It
was a look she only partially succeeded at, as the twinkle in her eyes betrayed
her good mood.

“Oh nothing,”
his own eyes crinkled in amusement, “but you’re going to need to show that boy
encouragement till he gets his confidence up. He knows he’s way out of his
league with you.”

“Ugh.” She
managed to both grimace and look secretly flattered while she poured him more
coffee, “You men and your ‘leagues.’ Deke is nice…and sometimes a girl just
likes nice.”

“Ah,” he nodded,
“Nice is good.”

“Yes it is,” she
now grinned broadly, “and you were eavesdropping, you old snooper. You should
be ashamed of yourself.”

He spread his
hands in a gesture of profound innocence.

“I couldn’t help
it! I was sitting right here!”

“Uh huh.”

Stacey laughed
and started refilling a glass sugar canister while the old trucker furthered
his case for the defense. She worked with a look of skeptical amusement while
he made claims that a man his age was well past such foolishness. 

“Besides,” he
concluded, “if I wanted to eavesdrop, then it wouldn’t be on you and your new
boyfriend.”

“Oh
reeeallllly,” she responded with a saucy smirk, “and just who would you want to
spy on me with, Grandpa? Is he cute?”

He shook his
head and rolled his eyes.

“Ohhhhh…maybe
it’s a she then. Is
she
cute?”

This girl was
impossible.

“Actually,”
Grandpa Tom laughed and stirred his coffee, “if I were to be a fly on the wall,
then I would want it to be when you tell Marisa about her new date. Now that is
sure to get interesting.”

“Ohhh…that.”

“Yesssss…that.”
He pointed his spoon at the girl, “Your job comes with health insurance,
right?”

“Oh pshaw!” The
girl waved dismissively. “Marisa is a sweetheart. She’s just ser…”

The girl stopped
in midsentence and suddenly leaned forward as if to get a better view down the
counter.

Tom turned to
see what she was looking at, and saw the flashing lights of a police cruiser
out on the highway as it sped by. A second later two more raced past, soon to
be followed by yet another pair. They all flew past in silence, although their
roof flashers cast brilliant blue and red beams that pierced the falling night
drizzle.

“Whoa,” the
waitress murmured softly, “Was that the Sheriff’s Department? They were all
heading into town.”

“The first three
were,” Grandpa Tom replied, “but those last two were state troopers. It looked
like they were acting as backup or something.”