A Hitchhiker

Another real-life vignette, this time not autobiographic but based on a friend's story. I wrote it mainly as an experiment in alternating long and short paragraphs and it did not quite work out but here it is anyway.



When I was driving out of the village, it was already getting dark outside but my heart felt darker still. I enjoyed meeting my childhood friends but they hadn't managed to cheer me up. Now I was getting ready to step on the gas when I noticed a silhouette standing in the bend, holding a piece of cardboard. It was a favorite place for hitchhikers.

I don't take hitchhikers.

I looked again and saw a female silhouette waiting next to the post announcing end of the village. The road turned sharp left there. Last rays of the setting sun were outlining her small breasts, painting her plump cheeks red.

I don't take female hitchhikers either.

Wearing a couple sizes too small shorts and a T-shirt that her little potbelly was peeking from, a rucksack on her back, she looked the part. Seeing the hitchhiker's figure my heart skipped a beat. My gaze involuntarily slid on the empty seat next to me. How many times had she sat there while I was driving up this hill? How many times had I cast a quick glance aside to enjoy her abundant curves?

I stopped in the bend.

The cardboard announced we had the same destination. No wonder, it was the first big city on this road. I beckoned her to come. Wordlessly she took off her rucksack, threw it on the back seat when I pointed there. Then she sat down next to me and tugged at the seat belt.

“Where would you like me to take you?”

Silence. I turned to her, my eyes sliding along her figure on their own accord. Again I noticed her thighs, now seemingly smaller in the wide plush seat, the roll of her belly overflowing her belt, her small firm breasts. I had been used to much larger sizes.

“Doesn't matter.”

Only now my gaze rose up to her face. It was round, with plump lips heavily underlined with scarlet lipstick, chubby cheeks and a cute button of a nose. Red eyes and smudged makeup gave me hints to why she took to hitchhiking on a Sunday evening in June.

“Broke up with your boyfriend?”

“With Mom.” Another pause. I waited patiently. “She keeps bugging me that I eat too much, that I'm getting fat, that she'll have to roll me soon, that I won't find a boyfriend-” she broke off abruptly, sniffing. “I've got enough. I want to be free of her rules and restrictions.” Her tummy growled in agreement.

I pulled up the handbrake.

“You know what? We can stop at a road rest on the way, my treat, I wanted to have a bite anyway.” A little white lie. “So come along. You can eat your fill, tell me more and then we can agree on where you want to go. OK?”

“Thanks a lot, I mean it.”

In the diner it was her who picked a box in the darkest corner. She sat down on the bench next to me, I could see her hesitate, scoot a little closer to me and then away again. The waitress brought menu, I ordered just a salad, being rather full already.

“You can order whatever you like.”

She didn't hold back, choosing fried cheese with garlic baguette for a starter and then pork and dumplings in gravy. Plus beer. I nibbled on my salad and watched her attack her portion. Now I could finally have a good look on her and from my line of work I know first impressions are often misleading.

“Listen, how old are you?”

She turned a little pink. “Eighteen,” she announced defiantly and took a sip of her beer. I raised my eyebrows. “Well… seventeen,” she admitted in a whisper, “next month.” She sullenly attacked her pork as if it were her worst enemy. “And your name?”

“Nika. Veronique.”

I sighed. “Look, Nika,” I started to whisper too. “You're lucky you stopped me, not… someone else. I won't take you to the woods to rape you. I won't force you to prostitute yourself, giving you drugs to be more docile. I won't sell you to an Arab harem, even though they pay premium for blonde virgins.”

Her eyes grew wide with fear.

I listed several other “attractions” of the big city before adding, “I can take you back to your Mom. Or I can drive you anywhere you want. You're adult enough to take responsibility for yourself. But think first what you really want since this decision will change everything.” I paused too, for greater effect.

“It's your life at stake.”

I saw her blinking fast to keep away tears. Then she tried to eat her fear away. I liked this diner for its big portions but it disappeared in Nika as if she were bottomless. Then she looked around the near-empty place. “Can I have a dessert too”

I nodded.

“If only Mom had a little sense. All I hear is, you mustn't do this, you mustn't do that, you must do this… And Dad just nods and doesn't dare raise his voice. And my girlfriends don't get me. If at least I had someone to talk to…” She gave me a pleading look.

I called the waitress. “One black coffee, please. And… ?”

“Double pancakes with hot chocolate. And then a large ice cream sundae.” She smiled at me, apologetic. “If I'm to go hungry again, I want to have one last hurrah first.”

The waitress left.

“You don't need to go hungry,” I said. “You're not a little girl anymore. Try to convince your mother with rational arguments. Tell her what you'd want your life to be like. Tell her enjoying good food is better than flirting with anorexia. And if it fails...”

I wrote my private number on the back of my calling card.

”If you need my advice, you can call me at any time. I mean, reasonable time, daytime,” I smiled, hoping to defuse the tension with my little joke. “You're luckier than you thought. I'm a psychologist.” She sat away from me as if in fear.

“Who wanted the pancakes?”

The waitress brought six of them on a large plate, smothered in jam and whipped cream. And a mug of hot chocolate with it. Nika let out a blissful sigh and scooted closer to me again so that I would hide her from the eyes of other customers. Then she unzipped her shorts. Her belly slowly expanded as she loaded it with sweet calories.

Then they brought the sundae.

By now Veronique was fighting her own stomach and gag reflex too but she was determined to win this fight. Spoon by spoon the ice cream disappeared in her gullet. Then she folded her hands on her stuffed belly in a fruitless attempt to hide it.

“Had enough?” I smiled.

The waitress had been giving us puzzled looks for some time. But she kept her professional distance. The only tell-tale sign of her interest was that she arrived at our table with a payment terminal as soon as Nika finished her meal. “Will you be paying together or separately? Cash or card?”

“Together, cash.”

When I paid I gave my jacket to Nika. It was still warm outside, summer was at its peak, but it helped hide her unzipped shorts from the world. They couldn’t fall off anyway, the way were painted on her plump bottom. Then I helped her stand up and waddle to the car. Luckily we parked right next to the diner.

“Thanks. You're wonderful.”

I had to help her with sitting down too, she gingerly pushed the seat belt aside not to constrict her stomach. I ran around the car meanwhile and started the engine before looking at her again. Nika had a strange expression on her face, a mixture of pain and bliss and awe.

“So, where will it be?”

“Uhh…” she stopped caressing her food baby, “first of all I'm not getting back there. No way. So first I thought I might ask to stay with you for some time. I know there's no free lunch and I don't have much money but you seem to like me and you're single, right?” Her left hand suddenly darted out and touched my thigh.

“Well, yes, I am but…”

“Let me finish. I plowed through a horseload of food today and you liked it, don't deny it,” her eyes drifted mischievously to my crotch. “And I thought, could I eat like this every day, living with you? That would be heaven. But I must've put on two kilos just now. If I ate like that every day, you would literally have to roll me soon. And I don't think I'm ready for that yet. So, since my aunt lives in the city too…”

“Could you take me there?”

“Actually, that's a good idea. School is over, right?” She nodded. “Then yes, I'll take you there. Stay with your aunt over the holidays, enjoy the change, sort out your feelings. Distance and time will help you work it out with you mom, one way or another. And who knows, maybe we'll meet again.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she smiled shyly.

As I drove on I kept glancing at her anyway. Despite telling myself she's too young for me, too thin. In the city I drove her to her aunt's home and we kissed goodbye, like a brother and a sister.

We never met again. Yet.