My Car Broke Down In The Middle Of Nowhere, And Now I’m Pretty Sure I’ll Never Get Home

Morgan’s eyes opened to the sunrise gleaming through a faded orange curtain. His nose picked up the smell of fresh sugar cookies.

“Howdy.” Bobby said walking into the living room and chewing on a sugar cookie with his tobacco’d, yellow teeth.

Morgan’s memory caught up as the previous events flooded his brain.

“Bobby…!” Morgan had a million things to say but his mouth didn’t seem be connected to his brain. All he could muster was, “H-H-How?”

Bobby sat down in a rocking chair across the room and finished swallowing his dessert.

“Didn’t see ya drive by. Figured sumptin was wrong.”

Morgan’s brain felt something wrong in Bobby’s response but his excitement brushed it aside.

“Jesus…well. I-I don’t know how to thank you… I uhh, I’m a little overwhelmed. That guy is a…he cut off my —” Morgan held up his hand, short a little finger, in lieu of speaking. He looked back up at Bobby and his body clenched. Standing behind Bobby was a black shadow in the doorway. Morgan’s mouth dropped open and tried to form words. Not agai—

“Oh my! You need to properly clean that!” A jolly old woman came waddling out of the kitchen, replacing her shadow in the doorway. She set a plate of cookies, jerky and cup of lemonade on the coffee table. Morgan sighed in relief. Thank god.

“Lemme go get some Neosporin.” She turned back toward the kitchen. “You should eat something though. You look pale.”

Morgan smiled with appreciation and grabbed a piece of jerky. Slugged back some lemonade. Wow that is refreshing. He bit off a piece of familiar tasting jerky and held up the rest to Bobby.

“American Bison huh?”

Bobby chuckled and shook his head. “There ain’t no bison in these parts.”

A bead of sweat formed on Morgan’s temple. His brain was still trying to form complete thoughts.

Bobby was still sitting on the adjacent couch putting a new lip in. He pulled out a hunting knife and cut the top off his empty beer can. Morgan grimaced at the sound- or the knife. He wasn’t sure.

Morgan stood up and wobbled.“ Can I use your phone?” he finally said.

“Sure, what’fer?” Bobby let a large brown wad of of spit slide out of his mouth into his homemade spit cup.

What for!? Are you kidding me? I need to call my wife and tell her what happened? Or the police! Somebody! I need to get out of here!

Morgan furrowed his eyebrows, confused at Bobby non-chalantness.

“I need to call the police and let them know what happened.” Bobby looked up at Morgan and cocked his head. “I need to let my wife know that I’m okay.” Morgan finished.

Bobby stood up from his chair as his wife came into the room again, this time carrying medicine and bandages.

“Ok young man, let me see that boo-boo…” The old woman felt the silence and stopped next to her husband. A tension fell over the room.

“So yer leavin’?” Bobby pursed his lips.