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Watt Worris

Road Service

 

                                                           Rita’s mouth dropped
                                                            at the unexpected full-load
                                               pickup pulling off, squealing,
                                  onto the shoulder beside her little
                            coupe. Lucky I came by, Harry (the
                        name on his shirt) said, sauntering
                           out of the well-equipped truck. How
                              could he not, given his profession, notice
                                 her classic chassis in need? Rita tried to take it
                                            all in, mooning over the sight of his bulging
                                                           black extended cab 4×4. Give me a jump?
                                                                        She felt around for the latched slot to
                                                                             pop her hood, which Harry instantly
                                                                               knew where to find, his thick fingers slip-
                                                                                  ping under her grill. Oh, she blurted. One
                                                                              hand above her head, the other raising the rod
                                                                            that would prop open her hood, Rita stretched,
                                                                     leaning over her exposed motor, Harry’s breath
                                                     on her neck. Jumper cables he kept in his bed snaked
                                              around his arms, he licked his lips. We’ll, he winked,
                                      get you going. She smiled, sure he knew what went
                           where & how. His engine throbbing, the jagged teeth
             of the cables gently bit the hard nodes of her battery. Now,
        he yelped. Door swung wide, key in the ignition, left
   foot on the ground, her right on the gas, she pumped a bit
 wildly, turning over & over until a series of faltering flutters
        reached a high-pitched crescendo & shook her car. How much
           do I owe you? Rita asked, relieved. Not a damn thing, Harry shot back.
                  He gunned his engine. Rita, aglow, gushed even as he sped off, long
                            after the waggle of his tailgate shrank to just a smudge in her rear view.

 

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