Hitchin' A Ride

   
Not the best choice for my first post. This is about a high school boy hitching a ride and getting picked up by an older man who tells him a little of his life. This story is highly unrealistic, but set in a realistic way,if that makes sense.NOT my best writing. Just a ripped it out of one of my old school files for a writing class. Enjoy :)

                                                            Hitchin’ A Ride
Dear Mom and Dad,
She was my life and now she’s gone. She’s gone and she took my life with her. I’m leaving to find what she took. I’ll be back before the end of summer.
Love,
Brendon
That was the day it started. It’s been three months since I left that letter in my own mailbox. But now it has been a week. It’s been a week of the constant drip of water from an unknown source. A week of rats stealing the only amount of food you got before your stomach agreed to not throw up the few sips of water you had in the past day.  Possibly one of the most important weeks in your life and you are trapped behind bars.
         That is exactly what my life has become. And it’s all because of that one day I decided to hitch a ride.
         I stood on the side of that lonely road for no more than 20 minutes.  About 12 cars had passed and not one showed any single sign of slowing down. But then that red, beaten down, rusted old Ford truck came down the road and stopped right in front of me. The driver rolled down the window and asked,
“Hey, need a ride?”
         “I do but where I’m going is far from here,” I replied.
“Where you headed?” the driver asked. I felt like a complete idiot for asking someone to drive me as far as I needed to go.  I just sighed and answered “Chicago.”
“Well that’s convenient. I’m headed over to Iowa, I wouldn’t mind going some miles further,” he replied.
I let my breath out in a big gush. “Thank you so much,” I said.
“No problem, just come ‘round to the passenger’s seat right here,” he said as he patted the seat next to him.
         I quickly ran to the door and sat down, putting my black Daiken backpack at my feet. Underneath my lime green and black Etnies was dried hay. It brought back a rush of memories of my grandpa’s farm.
“I never got to introduce myself. The names Dan, Dan Miller,” Dan said with his hand out stretched.
“I’m Brendon Dackery,” I replied as I shook his hand.
Once we were driving down the road, I took the moment of silence as an opportunity to actually observe who would be driving me from San Francisco to Chicago.
         I would say the guy was in his 60’s. The years showed under his eyes. His hair was graying and his beard was also beginning to turn grey and white. Dan was wearing a red short sleeved button up collar shirt and blue jeans. I decided to strike up a conversation.
“This truck seems to run pretty well,” I said.
“Yep. I know it could do with a clean up, but it’s been with me for 40 years and, as you said, still runs fine,” Dan explained as he patted the dashboard.
“Actually it’s a pretty interesting story how I got this truck,” he said.
He started the story with “I was right smack in the middle of a road when my dad’s old truck broke down. About 10 minutes later, a tow truck comes by and lends me a hand. As soon as I had heard the drivers’ voice I knew it was Gary, my dad’s best friend. We were driving towards my house and I just looked back towards the busted thing. Gary knew how much my dad and I loved that truck. He said he might be able to set us up with another one.”
“So, he took the turn going away from my house towards Billy’s house, his and my dads’ friend, where my truck was. It was parked in the drive way and as soon as I saw it; I fell in love with it.”
“It’s been with me ever since.”
I liked hearing about people lives, but I didn’t quite get why that story was so interesting. And then Dan began to speak again.
“I went inside to call my dad over. Then I saw Billy’s daughter. I thought I was in love with the truck, but when I saw Lindsey I thought my heart would explode from my chest.”
“I asked her out while our dads and Gary talked. We started spending a lot of time together. I was going to ask her to marry me.” “But one day, I went to pick her up and she was gone. Billy said she was visiting her grandma up in New York. But she never came back.”
         And that’s when my heart started to ache. I knew how he must’ve felt. I had felt it. I had worked so hard to push the feeling away, but now, it was creeping back and there was no getting rid of it.
“Hey, you ok Brendon?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
I decided I needed to tell someone. I sighed and reluctantly told him my story. My lips moved so quickly. The words kept pouring out. I was coming close to the end and Dan really started listening.
“I just don’t know what happened. We were together for 4 years. And then, she ended it with no warning.”
“I couldn’t write music or concentrate in school, so I dropped out. I took my money and just went. I took a plane to England where my best friend lives, saw some bands, tried to get the pieces of my life back together. I just needed to be in my comfort zone when I was in a situation that was out of my comfort zone.”
         Dan was silent. I was silent. All I could hear were the tires turning against the road and a bucket rocking back and forth in the back of the truck.  We turned into a parking lot next to a Diner. We got out and headed towards the diner door.
“Two please,” Dan said, holding up two fingers.
The waitress led us to a booth in the back of the diner. Neither of us talked for a while.
“Are you guys ready to order?”
“I’ll have a cheese burger cooked medium rare with fries please,” Dan said, handing his menu to the waitress.
“Uhm, I’ll have a Pepsi please,” I said in a voice lower than my usual voice.

“Brendon, you know what I did when Billy had told me Lindsey was in New York and she hadn’t come back?”
I stared at him silently.
“I grabbed the car keys and drove. If she wanted to leave me that was fine, but I wanted to hear her own explanation from her own mouth face to face.”
“And guess what,” Dan said. He put his hands on the table and on his ring finger was a ring.
“I married her. It turns out my dad and Billy had a huge fight and Billy had sent her away just so I couldn’t be with her. He just wanted to hurt my dad. I was shocked how such a great man could’ve acted that way. But the point is I got her.”
         “You can’t keep running Brendon. One day you’re gunna trip and fall and not be able to get up.”
Dan’s cheeseburger came along with my Pepsi. I sipped it slowly, letting it cool my insides down. Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.
“I need to find her. I need to find her and tell her before its too late,” I said.
“There you go. That’s what you should’ve done from the beginning. We’ll drive all night. Do you mind if we trade off driving and sleeping?” Dan asked.
“Not at all.”
Once my spirits were up I ordered the same as Dan. When we had finished, we headed back to the truck.
“I’ll drive. You can sleep,” I said to Dan.
         I drove most of the night. At around 4 am Dan and I switched. I crossed my arms over my black hoodie that said “IMMORTALITY DOESN’T MEAN NEVER DYING” in lime green letters, and stretched my feet out. Dan woke me up as the sun poked my eyes.
“We’re half way there. I got you some coffee,” Dan said holding up a cup of Star bucks coffee for me. I took it through the window.
“Thanks.”
I sat up and looked around. We were just in a parking lot. I got out of the truck and stretched. It was 9 am.
“We should make it there by 9 pm tomorrow,” Dan said, sipping his own coffee. He had a new shirt on and looked like he could with more sleep. We got back in the truck and I started driving. Then we just talked. I told him about my music and how I completely lose my mind on stage. Despite my love in some of my music, certain songs are about hate and anger, and I just let it all out when I play.
“One time I climbed up on the base drum and lost my balance and fell right into Tristin, our drummer. I pulled half the drum set down with me. Tristin pushed me off and my pegs got all messed up so all my strings were completely out of tune. But the crowd still loved it. It is one of my favorite shows of my life. I guess you can call me disdainful,” I laughed.
“Or audacious,” Dan laughed.
“Or just plain passionate,” I said.
About 5 hours had passed with just talk like that. We stopped at another diner and afterwards Dan looked like he could crash right in the booth. So I continued to drive.
         I put my iPod on and scrolled down to Evil That Men Do by Iron Maiden. I listened to each part, drums, lead, bass, etc. following it for a few seconds. The night dragged on. About 5 hours later we switched. We were already in Chicago heading over to O’Hare airport. After our exit, we pulled into a Shell station for a bathroom break. I met Dan back in the car. Dan was filling the truck up, and then got back in the driver’s seat. In what seemed like 10 minutes, we were at the airport.
         “Well this is it. Thank you so much Dan. We should keep in touch.”
“Hey, we should trade cell phone numbers. I may be an old farmer but I still like technology.”
After we had traded numbers, we said our good byes’.
“Hurry now! The sooner you get there the better!” Dan shouted through the rolled down window as he handed me my bag. I took one last look at the rundown Ford and ran into O’Hare airport.
Just my luck! When I had got into the airport there was a flight boarding in 20 minutes. I got a ticket and headed towards security check. I passed through the metal detector without beeping. The belt hadn’t spit out my bag yet. The officers at the screen were on the phone staring at the screen, obviously looking at my bag. Had I forgot to take my nail clippers out or something?
“Excuse me sir, could you come with me?” an officer said to me. I had to hurry, so I just went to get it out of my way. I thought it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes because I had nothing to hide.
         I followed the officer. My eye caught on something in his hand; it was my bag. I scratched my head and continued to follow him. He led me to a room with one glass window, 2 chairs and a wooden table.  The officer set my bag on the table and gestured me to sit down as he did.
“So, Mr. Dackery--”
“You can just call me Brendon.”
“Ok. So, Brendon, explain to me what’s in your bag.”
“Um, alright, my clothes, a hat--”
“No Brendon, explain to me why there is a pound of cocaine in your bag.”
I stared at him wide eyed with my mouth hanging open.
“What the heck are you talking about?” I asked
Officer Scorleny- as his name tag read- grabbed my bag and unzipped it, revealing a package wrapped in red cloth that had been opened. Yeah, it was cocaine.
“I have no idea where that came from, I swear! Check the fingerprints, anything. I know nothing about that. I don’t want to know anything about that. And I don’t have time to be here about that,” I said, my heart racing and my knees shaking. I wasn’t nervous, I was innocent, honestly! I just needed to catch the flight before it was too late.
“That’s not a bad idea. I will check the fingerprints. What time did you say your flight was Brendon?”
“I didn’t, but I’m boarding in about 2 minutes, and I need to catch this flight.”
“Oh, well, even if this isn’t yours, we can’t risk letting you go. Whoever’s this is, is going to have a long time to think about it in jail,” officer Scorleny said. And with that, he took my bag and the cocaine, and left me in that room and didn’t come back for at least an hour. My heart sank lower and lower with every minute wasted. Then, the door flew open, slamming against the wall.
“You’ve got a LOT of explaining to do young man, and fast!” Officer Scorleny shouted as he slammed down multiple pages down on the table. They were papers with fingerprints; index fingers, thumbs, pointers, all of them. And they all matched the ones on the package. My fingerprints matched the ones on the package. Chills went down my back.
“So what happens now?” I sighed.
I was framed; there was no getting out of it.
“You’re goin to have to go down to the station for a more thorough interrogation. I can’t promise you any good news,” Scorleny said with his hands on his side. I was taken down to the station in a police car; thank god they didn’t put any lights or anything on.
         At the station wasn’t much different than the airport.
“There’s just no way out of this. I’m sorry Brendon.” Officer Berkley said to me. I had gotten a different cop to interrogate and watch me.
“You seem like a smart kid, I just don’t know why you would walk into an airport with a pound of cocaine in your bag.”
“I guess I’m not as smart as you thought I was,” I said in a monotone.
And then they cuffed me up and took me away. I didn’t even use my phone call; I had no one to call. Not even Dan because I know who the cocaine really belonged to. 
          Now we are back to where I am now, stuck in a dirty jail while the most important time in my life ticks by.
How could you have fallen for that sneaky old man?
Anyone could have fallen for that guy. He’s nice, easy to talk to…

“I have an idea!” I suddenly say to the rat beside me.
Ok, Dan did this, I know he did. He stabbed me in the back, so I’m going to take the knife out and stab him back. It’s what I should’ve done from the beginning.

“Hey you! The one eating the donut! Yeah you, the fat one! I think I’m ready for my phone call,” I shouted to the guys watching nearby cells.
I dialed the number and he answered.
“Hey Dan, it’s me, Brendon Dackery. Guess where I am… Yeah yeah, save your breath. Can you come down to the station? So get your butt over here! Where do you think I’m going within a few ours?”
Back in my cell I talk to my new friend, I call him Scatter. Scatter the rat.
“He’s coming. Soon I’ll be out of here and you’ll have another new friend,” I say to Scatter.
“So what’s all the trouble here?”
I freeze and Scatter stares at me squeaking.
“It’s only been 20 minutes, he shouldn’t already be here. Something’s up,” I say.
“Hey Brendon, what’s wrong, you sounded pretty mad and urgent on the phone. And why the heck are you in jail?” Dan says to me as his voice and footsteps come up to my bars.
“Why’d you put cocaine in my bag?” I ask him.
“I don’t know what you--”
“Shut up. Just tell me the truth. Why did you do it?” I demand.
Dan looks at me with a puzzled face and a gleam in his eye.
“Officer Berkley, can you go out to this man’s truck? At the back there will be a bucket with a red shirt in it. Can you bring it in here and then bring the fabric that the cocaine was wrapped in,” I say.
“Um, ok. It won’t hurt. Hey, Frank! Come watch these guys, I’ll be right back,” officer Berkley says.
Dan and I stare at each other, trying to stare the other one down.  We’re still staring at each other until officer Berkley got back, he’s smiling.
“Mr. Daniel Miller, may I ask why your shirt matches the fabric and the rips on a package of cocaine,” Officer Berkley says.
“Oh, come on Ben, the kid got it,” Dan says, breaking our stare.
“Yeah, it sure took a while,” (Ben) Berkley says.
“Wait, you guys know each other?” I ask. I am dumbfounded. Those two guys are talking as if they were friends.
“Ha ha, yes. Dan is just being his strange old self, always helping others. Alright my friend, you are free to go,” Ben Berkley says as he unlocks my cell.
“You on the other hand have to pay for what you did. You said you were willing to take the consequences,” Ben Berkley said pointing at Dan.
“And I shall go without a fuss. I am a man of my word Mr. Berkley,” Dan said holding his hands together as if asking to be locked up.
“Yeah, yeah, before you spend your months locked up; do us a favor and give the kid one last lift to the air---”

I must’ve blanked out. Why am I in Dan’s truck? Was that all a dream?

“Well, I guess this is really it now,” Dan says to me.
Oh. Now I remember what had happened.
“Yeah, I guess it is. Uhm, I’d like to say thank you for everything, but you didn’t really take me on the friendly route, if you know what I mean. Have a good life,” I say and close the door shut. I get a flight to Chicago.

I hail a taxi down and go immediately to her house.

“Amanda! Amanda! I need to talk to you! Please let me in,” I yell into the intercom.
“Brendon, you can’t just show up here!”
“Yes I can.”
A minute passes and the door buzzer goes off. I leap for the door handle and jump 3 stairs at a time till I reach apartment 4B. She must have heard my footsteps because the door flew open.
“Amanda! I can’t believe I let you leave me!”
“Brendon please, don’t do this to me. Where the heck have you been? Your parents are worried sick, well, at least your mom is,” she adds as I give her a face.
“Have you been worried about me?”
She opens her mouth to speak but no words come out.
“I’ve been worried about you because you are my friend,” she says after a pause.
“Boyfriend.” I say
“No, just friend. I’m sorry Brendon, I have to go now.”
And with that she closes the door.

                                                    EPILOGUE (60 years later)
It was the time of year when my sweet grandchild, Olivia, would be coming. Every year she asks for the same story and around this time of year every year I always start to remember that month again.
         Dan Miller was a strange guy; I still never quite understand why he got just happened to have a pound of cocaine. I wonder if it’s even real.  But he taught me a life lesson that I will never forget.
“Grandpa, tell me again!”
“But I tell you every year though Olivia.”
“So, I like it.”
“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you, but then you have to go to bed, your mom will get mad at me.”
“OK, I promise.”
I started “I stood on the side of that lonely road for no more than 20 minutes.”