Laney looked at the belt in her hand. “This thing doesn’t have a price on it.”
“Can’t be more than ten bucks.”
Laney frowned at Mitch. “Well, I’m not leaving ten bucks if the damn thing only costs three ninety-five. Did you look around back?”
“Yeah, I checked during an out-of-body experience,” Mitch said.
“You don’t have to be a snot.”
Laney led the way out and around the broken-down building, pausing to look across the desert in the direction of town. Behind the station was a door marked “Wash.” Laney knocked and fell back a step.
“Go on inside,” she said to Mitch.
Mitch looked at her.
“In case he’s in the middle of something.”
“I don’t want to see him if he is,” Mitch said.
“Go on. Don’t be a baby.”
Mitch opened the door, leaned inside a bit, and came back. “Oh, fuck,” he said.
“What is it?” Laney moved forward to the doorway and saw the red-covered floor. “God. Is that blood?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Mitch turned away and let the door close.
Laney looked all around, feeling dizzy, her heart racing. She studied two derelict cars some yards away in the sage. Mitch was looking around, too.
“It’s a gas station rest room,” he said. “The blood doesn’t mean a thing.”
Laney and Mitch went back to the front of the station and into the office. A lizard on the counter startled Laney. It was then that she noticed the blood on the floor behind the desk.
“Mitch, look here.”
Mitch did and shook his head. “This is bad. We’d better call the cops.”
Laney reached for the phone and listened for a tone. She looked at Mitch and shook her head. She watched Mitch run out across the yard, past the pumps to the phone booth. He held the receiver and severed cord in the air for Laney to see before throwing it to the ground.
Laney felt exposed. Mitch walked back to her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Laney looked at the pump belt still clutched in her fist. “We can go back and get the truck, then drive to town for the police or we can just walk to town from here. Same amount of time. Probably take longer to go to the truck and put this thing on.”
Mitch looked at the road. “I’m not sure about walking out there either way, you know?”
“It’s one or the other, Mitch. We can’t just stay here.”
“Shit.”
Laney went to the fountain and drank more water. “I say we go back to the truck.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and thought for a while, looking at the road. “No cars passed us either way. So they must have gone in the direction of town.”
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. Okay, let’s get going then.”
Laney drank more water, drank until she was full. She licked her lips and said, “I suggest you drink some more, too.”
Mitch did.
They started walking back in the direction of Laney’s truck. Laney became aware again of the belt in her hand. She considered hiding it under her shirt. If there were a crook or killer and he drove by and saw it, he’d know she’d been to the station. She was also troubled by the fact that technically the belt was stolen. What if the police found them and decided they had something to do with whatever the hell had happened at the station? She carried the belt close to her side and away from the road. The rubber was slimy against her sweating palm.
A big brown Oldsmobile came toward them on its way to town. Laney waved for the car to stop, but the elderly couple tightened visibly, swerved to the other lane, and kept going at an increased clip. The idea of being blamed for some crime seemed less farfetched as she imagined the old couple finding the blood in the wash room. She walked faster.
“I don’t like this,” Mitch said, sounding close to tears.
Laney decided she hated Mitch and she hated herself for being with him, for allowing him to be with her. So, he had ridden a bull. Big deal. Besides, he had been thrown before the gate was fully open. Trying not to
“Can’t be more than ten bucks.”
Laney frowned at Mitch. “Well, I’m not leaving ten bucks if the damn thing only costs three ninety-five. Did you look around back?”
“Yeah, I checked during an out-of-body experience,” Mitch said.
“You don’t have to be a snot.”
Laney led the way out and around the broken-down building, pausing to look across the desert in the direction of town. Behind the station was a door marked “Wash.” Laney knocked and fell back a step.
“Go on inside,” she said to Mitch.
Mitch looked at her.
“In case he’s in the middle of something.”
“I don’t want to see him if he is,” Mitch said.
“Go on. Don’t be a baby.”
Mitch opened the door, leaned inside a bit, and came back. “Oh, fuck,” he said.
“What is it?” Laney moved forward to the doorway and saw the red-covered floor. “God. Is that blood?”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” Mitch turned away and let the door close.
Laney looked all around, feeling dizzy, her heart racing. She studied two derelict cars some yards away in the sage. Mitch was looking around, too.
“It’s a gas station rest room,” he said. “The blood doesn’t mean a thing.”
Laney and Mitch went back to the front of the station and into the office. A lizard on the counter startled Laney. It was then that she noticed the blood on the floor behind the desk.
“Mitch, look here.”
Mitch did and shook his head. “This is bad. We’d better call the cops.”
Laney reached for the phone and listened for a tone. She looked at Mitch and shook her head. She watched Mitch run out across the yard, past the pumps to the phone booth. He held the receiver and severed cord in the air for Laney to see before throwing it to the ground.
Laney felt exposed. Mitch walked back to her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Laney looked at the pump belt still clutched in her fist. “We can go back and get the truck, then drive to town for the police or we can just walk to town from here. Same amount of time. Probably take longer to go to the truck and put this thing on.”
Mitch looked at the road. “I’m not sure about walking out there either way, you know?”
“It’s one or the other, Mitch. We can’t just stay here.”
“Shit.”
Laney went to the fountain and drank more water. “I say we go back to the truck.”
“Why?”
She shrugged and thought for a while, looking at the road. “No cars passed us either way. So they must have gone in the direction of town.”
Mitch nodded. “Yeah, that sounds right. Okay, let’s get going then.”
Laney drank more water, drank until she was full. She licked her lips and said, “I suggest you drink some more, too.”
Mitch did.
They started walking back in the direction of Laney’s truck. Laney became aware again of the belt in her hand. She considered hiding it under her shirt. If there were a crook or killer and he drove by and saw it, he’d know she’d been to the station. She was also troubled by the fact that technically the belt was stolen. What if the police found them and decided they had something to do with whatever the hell had happened at the station? She carried the belt close to her side and away from the road. The rubber was slimy against her sweating palm.
A big brown Oldsmobile came toward them on its way to town. Laney waved for the car to stop, but the elderly couple tightened visibly, swerved to the other lane, and kept going at an increased clip. The idea of being blamed for some crime seemed less farfetched as she imagined the old couple finding the blood in the wash room. She walked faster.
“I don’t like this,” Mitch said, sounding close to tears.
Laney decided she hated Mitch and she hated herself for being with him, for allowing him to be with her. So, he had ridden a bull. Big deal. Besides, he had been thrown before the gate was fully open. Trying not to
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