Dementia

         Eleanor grabbed the strap to her purse which was carelessly strewn about the vacant passenger side seat. She flung it onto her lap and began hastily unzipping the bag in order to dig her bronzed fingers into the huge satchel. "Damnit!" she said, after rummaging through the large bag for quite some time. She sighed and flung the purse back onto the other side of the car. "Well, fuck," she said to herself. "There's not a damned gas station in these parts for miles."
         Eleanor pulled open the driver's side door and stepped into the unbearably bright sun. She adjusted her visor, then shuffled through the desert sand to reach the rear of her car. She pulled on the hatch leading to the trunk and it popped open with a loud click. She leaned inside the trunk and reached for a large gym bag, which she lifted with quite a struggle. When she had mustered enough strength to lift the bag, she threw it onto the desert floor and watched dust fly up into millions of particles.
         Eleanor swiped at the dust particles that had collected in her eyes. "Damnit," she muttered under her breath, then proceeded to bend over and unzip the bag lying on the ground. When she stood back up, she revealed a large map book bound by a rubber band.
         She stood reading the map on the side of the road; a solitary figure in the midst of endless desert which stretched for miles and miles around. An emptiness that Eleanor did not even notice. Wrapped up in her own thoughts of reaching her destination, she did not see the headlights coming straight towards her car parked on the side of the road at extremely high speed.

* * *

         Eleanor looked up from her map rather calmly as the semi came speeding by her car. She suddenly realized what was happening and froze at once. Only a few moments later, after the truck had whizzed almost barely missing her and her brand new subaru outback, did she gain enough audacity to step back into the road and enter the driver's seat once more. She threw the map on the passenger seat as carelessly as her purse was flung, and grabbed the steering wheel. "Damn," she said softly, then shook her head to try and forget about the whole situation she had just experienced.
         "All these roads look the same," Eleanor said to herself after a few minutes of driving. "Where the hell am I supposed to know where I'm going? There are no signs whatsoever..."
         Eleanor jumped in the air as she felt her car fall beneath her. "Damnit, there's that pothole again! I could have sworn I passed that same one hours ago... if only there were some fuckin' signs... Jesus Christ..." She slowed the car once more and brought it to a stop on the side of the road. Sighing with exasperation, she hit the back of her head against the front of her headrest.
         "Damnit, if only I had brought a phone, or there was some goddamned gas station around here..." She began to rummage through all of the clutter on the dashboard and in the glove compartment. After a few minutes of this, she decided to study the map further. She unravelled the almost decomposing sheet of paper, then levelled it on her lap. "Hmm..." she began, sighing.
         Night began to set in on the desert. Eleanor only became aware of this after looking up from the map on her lap. "Shit..." she said, then cranked the car. She sped off into the distance as if running from a savage beast.

* * *

         A few miles up the road Eleanor spotted lights lining what appeared to be a gas station. "Yes, finally!" she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm saved..."
         She neared the gas station and parked next to the entrance. She spotted an old man, tapping his foot on the ground while rocking back and forth in a dirty wicker rocking chair. "Hello, sir!" Eleanor cried in exuberance. She neared the man and realized his face was smeared with wrinkles. "No matter," she thought. "He'll still help me." "I'm looking for a phone, sir," Eleanor said, jubilantly.
         The old man stopped tapping his foot on the ground and only now appeared to have noticed Eleanor. He stared her down for quite a long time. Suddenly, he let forth a loud, crude, cackle. Eleanor winced. "Nasty," she thought.
         "A phone, ye say?" the old man asked, cupping a hand around his ear as if to summon her closer. On cue, Eleanor shuffled closer to the man in her white t-shirt and shorts. She became self-conscious as soon as she saw the look on the man's face once again. "Perv," she thought, wanting to spit in his face. However, she feigned one of her greatest beaming smiles and moved closer to him.
         "Yessir, that's right. A telephone. Do you happen to have such a thing in this nice place of yours?" She asked, her voice lacking any evidence of sarcasm or mockery.
         "Pshaw," the man said, curling his thin, wrinkly lips into a circle. He puffed his cheeks up then leaned to the side in his chair. He spit on the ground, leaving a trail of drool from the ground to a stream around his mouth. Eleanor faked another smile and nodded her head. "What would you need a phone for in these parts?" He asked, half closing one eye as to seem suspicious of her.
         "Well, sir, I've been on a long journey, and I was supposed to meet my family up at this specific time and location, but so far I've been driving around in circles. There are no street signs in this rather lovely city of yours, and I can't seem to get myself out of this little whole.
         "HA!" The man laughed, then spat on the ground once more. He leaned all of his upper body weight on the armrest closest to her, and half-closed his eyes at her once more. "You, girlie, you be dangerous with your request for a phone. Ya see here, we ain't got no phone, we don't need no phone, and we certainly ain't gonna get us no phone neither! Now why don't you just filler up and i'll see what i can do you for."
         All the while Eleanor's smile was fading into a frown while the man was speaking. It seemed the man was only willing to help her if she got gas. Fine. She pulled her car around and next to the pump, then put 25 dollars in.
         The man began rocking back and forth once more and tapping his foot. He began to cackle as soon as Eleanor was through pumping. "Now, little missuhs, I'll do you some favor. You see, our humble little gas station ain't got no phone, but how can one town live without a phone a'tall! Haha well, see, you have us there. The missuhs up at the hilltop over yonder," the man began, pointing his withered, arthritic finger toward the dark distance. "She got a phone. Me wife that is. Now why don't you go see to'er? She love her some company." The man grinned his widest, revealing a set of nonexistent teeth. Eleanor got back in her car, shook her head free of the scene she had just witnessed, and traveled into the distance.
         The car came to a screeching halt as soon as Eleanor arrived in the driveway.