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

“Yeah.” Tommy said looking down and smiling, not completely understanding.

The light shining through the kitchen window finally disappeared completely and Morgan’s internal alarm clock shook him back into reality. He had to manually stop smiling. They had been talking for two hours.

“Hey man,” Morgan stood up and stretched. “I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. Think I can use your phone again? Gotta call a cab to take me to a motel.” Tommy stood up as well and laughed.

“You ain’t gonna find no cab out here,” Tommy walked into the other room and opened up a closet. “..and the neares’ motel ain’t for another 40 miles.” He pulled out a pillow and tossed it to Morgan. “I got plenny o’ room. ‘N I’ll get started on that lemon soon as those parts come in.”

Sleeping at a stranger’s house in the middle of nowhere? Had he heard this proposition a few hours ago he would have scoffed at the mere thought. Now, it seemed reasonable — if not, obvious.

“Okay.”

Tommy led him to his guest room. Morgan was a little thrown off that he called it his “guest room.” Does he have guests often? The room was normal. Completely normal. Like something out of a Home & Garden magazine.

Morgan plopped down on the bed and closed his eyes.

“Welp, I’ll letcha git sitch-ee-waited. I’ll seeya in the mornin’.” Tommy closed the door and Morgan slipped his shoes off. He let his mind relax and he slowly drifted off to sleep.

“Howdy!”

“Holy shit!” Morgan opened his eyes to Tommy’s face two inches from his own, his white teeth shimmering off the morning sunrise through the window. “Jesus, Tommy you scared me.”
Morgan sat up in bed. “What time is it?”

“Time to fix that ‘ol lemon o’ yours, bossman.” Tommy straightened back up from leaning over Morgan’s bed. “Got some breffast and the paper fo’ ya. Ain’t really nothin’ in the paper though. Not much happens ‘round here.”

As Morgan entered the kitchen, he walked into a buffet. Eggs, homemade waffles, fruit that looked like it was picked from the vine that morning, and, of course, his famous jerky. A steaming coffee mug that said, When you’re in Wyoming, Wyo go anywhere else? sat on the table next to the morning paper. Morgan sat down, speechless, and looked at the clock- 7:03 a.m.

“Did you do all of this today?” Morgan looked up at Tommy, who had an eager smile on his face.
“Yeah, I’mma early riser and I had gon’ out t’get yer parts so I figured I’d grab some things fer breffast whiles I was out.” Tommy looked at his feet like a bashful child. How could Morgan have been suspicious of this man a few hours ago?

“Wow…Well, I appreciate it, Tommy, but you really didn’t have to do this.”

“Ah, foe-get it. Eat up. Got a lot o’ work today.” Tommy turned his back to Morgan and started pouring himself a cup of coffee. Morgan dug into the eggs and jerky. It was delicious, surprisingly. He picked up the paper and started reading:

President Kennedy goes Hollywood

Rumors have surfaced that the President Kennedy has been having an affair with model Marilyn Monroe for over four months now. The President has gone on record to deny these allegations but…

“Uhh Tommy…this paper is from the 1960’s.” Morgan chuckled and handed him the yellowed, but otherwise pristine newspaper. Tommy looked at it puzzled and instead of throwing it in the garbage, gently placed it in one of the kitchen drawers.

“Hmm that’s odd. Must’ve snagged the wrong one. My bad, lemme getcha today’s paper.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tommy — came out here to get away from everything,” Morgan smiled. “Thanks though.”

They worked on the car all day. Morgan was in charge of carrying parts and finding the right tools for Tommy to use. There were a few times Morgan grabbed the wrong tool and Tommy would bust his ass. Morgan wasn’t exactly a handyman. The only tool set he owned was a small case his parents got him when he went off to Northwestern. Tommy commentated the whole repair but he might as well been speaking a different language to Morgan. The sun was already setting as Tommy pulled himself from under the car.

“Whadda think, Mo? Wanna giv’er a shot?”

“Sure. Just go head and start it?”

“Yep.”