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

“So, my buddy said he can get the parts in tomorrow.” Tommy said hanging up the phone and sitting back down at the kitchen table. The kitchen was covered in stale yellow wallpaper.

“Can I use your phone?” Morgan asked. He needed to call his wife.

“Go for it.”

He picked it up and dialed. Ring ring…Ring ring…Ring ri-

“Hello?”

“Hey Ron.”

“Oh hey babe, I didn’t recognize the number. Whose phone are you using?“Tommy Gregory’s.” Morgan looked back and smiled at Tommy who was playing with the skin peeling off his hands.
“Who?”

“He’s fixing the car. It broke down out here. I’m still a couple of hours from the cabin.”

“Ugh, oh my god. I knew we should have gotten a new car. That thing is garbage.”

“Hey hey hey. I’ve had a lot of memories in that car… we’ve had a lot of memories in that car. ”

They both laughed.

“So what are you gonna do?

“Well, the parts are coming in tomorrow so after we get them installed I should be back on the road.” Morgan said optimistically. He’s not sure if he believed it though.

“Okay well let me know when you get there, and be careful. You never know with those country people.”

“Will do. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Click.

“That the Mrs?” Tommy asked chewing on a piece of homemade jerky he had pulled from a baggie in his pantry.

“Yup.” Morgan sat down in a heap.

“You call her Ron?” Tommy was inquisitive.

“Yeah,” Morgan smiled to himself. “Her name’s Ronni. I know, ‘what’d you guys switch names or sumtin’?’ You know, there have been a lot of great men named Morgan. Morgan Freeman, Morgan Spurlock, Morgan Tsvangirai…”

Morgan took a breath and continued. “And ya know, It’s mainly a guy’s name in Britain anyway, and also, Morgan literally means ‘sea chief’. Morgan’s are god damn modern Poseidons for cryin’ out loud.” Morgan stopped, realizing the irrelevance of his rant and the there was a moment of silence. Tommy looked up from his jerky and raised his eyebrows still gnawing on the dried meat.

“Okay…” He said, but meant, “yeesh.”

“Sorry,” Morgan cooled his voice. “I just…I’m a little tired of having to defend my name.”

“No prob-leemo… want some jerky?” Tommy held out a stick of black meat, tints of red streaked through it. Morgan wasn’t really a “jerky-guy.” He felt bad for snapping at Tommy about his name though. He also didn’t want to be rude after Tommy invited him into his house…let him use his phone…is fixing his car. How could he refuse? He grabbed the stiffed slab of dried, whatever it was, cut too thick to bite off in one chomp and grinded off a small piece with his back molars. Woah, he thought. This is pretty good. This is really good, actually. Impressed.

“What kind of meat is this?”

“Bison…’merican Bison.”

Morgan pursed his lips into an upside down smile and continued to bite and chew small pieces. The two talked surprisingly fluently. The cultural differences seemed to stimulate conversation instead of halting it. They had quite a lot in common, in fact, and for being a country boy, Tommy spoke with an orthodox wit and intelligence. They talked about the land and the outdoors. Morgan loved hiking and climbing, which was partially the reason he goes out there to write, and Tommy lived the outdoors. They talked about Morgan’s job. How he was a copywriter for a large firm in Chicago right after school and then moved to Colorado to pursue writing after he married Ronni. He mainly wrote small things, short stories, TV episodes, anything to pay the bills. But he always had something big in the works- his novel or his screenplay. He had actually written a full screenplay for one of his fraternity brother’s theatre companies out in LA. It didn’t go great. The audience couldn’t understand how to love the protagonist.

“’Sa ballsy trans-ishun, right ther’. Were you scared?” Tommy leaned in curiously.

”Terrified.”

They talked about women.

“I had a girlfriend once ‘pon a time- in the 8th grade…Mary Lorish.” Morgan smiled at Tommy’s innocence. He listened to Tommy describe her, unashamed and undeterred at the thought of expressing feelings in the company of another man. He was still a child. The world hadn’t raised him into an adult yet and Morgan enjoyed that. Made him think about having kids of his own.

“Trust me, wives ain’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Morgan said, imitating Tommy’s country draw. “Ronni drives me nuts. I love her, of course. But there are times I just want to shake her, ya know. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do!’”