The twelve o'clock sun was beating down on the orange sand next to I-40 just outside of Needles, California. About two hours ago, he could feel sweat trickle down his tan back; now it was dripping down his forehead leaving little dark brown circles on the orange sand as droplets of sweat fell from his chin and nose. A seldom breeze would blow tumbleweed across the road for some brief entertainment as he sat on his backpack praying for a car to become visible in the distance. He was hot and tired of waiting, and he was soon going to be dehydrated if he didn't get lucky before the sun set.
Hours continued to pa**, and he barely sipped on his eighth bottle of water. Not once did he think it would take eight bottles of water before he got picked up, he didn't think it was possible. He slowly began drifting off into a place between sleep and lack of consciousness when he heard the slightest sound of a rumbling engine off to the east. His brain was so alert but his body couldn't quite keep up. The rumble gradually became closer and closer; his brain was racing one hundred miles per hour, trying to get his body to be at least half as alert as his mind. As the rumble became clear enough to recognize it was a sports car and not a semi-truck or a motorcycle, his eyes opened, his head lifted from his knees, and his arms began waving in the air. The rumble slows as it becomes even clearer, but he loses consciousness, tips off of his backpack and falls to the ground in the fetal position before the car reaches his campsite on the side of the road.
“Sir, are you okay? You look really sick. How long have you been out here?” a woman in her mid-thirties asks, to receive no response.
She observes his tan skin, dark brown hair, stocky body type, then returns to her car for a bottle of Dr. Pepper she had bought to help her sorrows; she had been layed off from her company earlier in the day. At this point, she put her sorrows aside and returns to the man. She squats down next to him, turns his head enough to let the Dr. Pepper drip into his mouth.
“Come on, sir. You've got to get some fluid in you. Open your eyes,” she coaxes as she pats his back to encourage a response.
Nothing.
She waits patiently, continuing to talk and drip Dr. Pepper into his mouth, having no idea what his situation was. She caught a glimpse of his backpack laying on the other side of him and stepped around him to look inside. She found a dead cell phone in the side pocket, and seven empty water bottles, a book titled “Carsick,” a keychain with a compa** attached, and a scrap of paper with Oak Island, SC scribbled on it in a blue faded ink. She starred at the piece of paper, thinking about the fact that they were in California. As she began to zip up the backpack, the man's leg twitched. Then he coughed. She stood above him, shielding his eyes from the setting sun, and asking him to open his eyes. His eyes opened.
The blonde woman who had had such a pitiful day after loosing her job squatted down next to the man with a huge sense of relief. She smiled for the first time since the meeting she attended at eleven o'clock that morning.
“Sir, I was driving down the interstate and saw you tip over off of your backpack. I couldn't help but stop and see if you were okay. What are you doing out here is this blazing sun?” the woman asks.
The man sits up, squinting into the sun. “Who are you?” he grunts through his dry throat.
“My name is Natalie. I was pa**ing by on my way home. I am a Registered Nurse, so I felt obligated to stop and check out your situation, especially when I saw you fall over unconscious” she replied matter-of-factly.
The man begins to realize the significance of who is standing in front of him, and his memory reminds him how much he prayed for a car to come down that highway. Now a car has come.
“I have no idea what happened. I was just sitting out here, waiting for a car to come down the road. Well, actually hoping a car would come down the road before sun set. I ran out of water earlier this morning and I knew I wouldn't make it much longer,” the man confessed to the woman.
The woman looked at him, trying to determine his intentions, why he was out here waiting for a car, where he was trying to go. She had so many questions.
“Do you feel okay? Should I take you to a hospital? There's not a bit of cell service out here for me to call someone.”
“No, no. I really don't need to go to a hospital. I just got a little too hot out in the sun this afternoon. I feel great now,” he quickly replies. The hospital is not the destination he was trying to reach.
“Are you trying to get somewhere?” she asks.
“Well, actually yes. I am. I'm trying to get to South Carolina. Oak Island to be exact. Where are you headed? That direction?” the man asks curiously as he starts to come to and get all of his senses back in working order.
The woman looks around, taking in the California scenery and lets the idea of traveling to South Carolina, by obviously hitchhiking, sink in. The she recalls the scribbled piece of paper she found in his backpack. She chuckles a little bit to herself.
“I actually came from the east, heading west towards home,” she answers. “A home I'm probably going to have to put on the market tomorrow,” she continues to mumble under her breath in pity.
All of a sudden, Natalie was overwhelmed in her self-pity over the loss of her job and now she had used her Dr. Pepper to bring this stranger back to his senses on the side of I-40 in the middle of nowhere. She is a middle cla** green-eyed blonde who had had no luck in the dating world, and lives in a small house with her fish, Bubbles, and had given up her RN position at a small hospital to travel around the country as a drug representative for a pharmaceutical company.
“Hey, what do you say you take me somewhere down the road and then I'll hop in with someone else tomorrow,” the man piped up. “I will admit hitchhiking wasn't one of my best ideas, but I'll take anything I can get, and honestly I'm not too scared to get in your car,” he smirks a little as he finishes his sentence.
“I'm heading in the opposite direction you are trying to go. I've got to get home to,” her voice drifts off. She realizes she doesn't have any reason to get home. This man is her biggest obligation right now, and why did she stop to help him on the side of the interstate?
“Well I guess I don't have work tomorrow, so I really don't have any reason to get home. Yeah, let's get your stuff in the trunk and I have a towel you can sit on, not to be picky about my leather seats or anything,” Natalie chuckles as she sees the absurd look come across the man's voice. “Wait, first. I don't even know your name,” Natalie states.
“Colby. My name is Colby. I'm not dangerous or scary. I don't have any weapons, or bad intentions. I'm just trying to get to South Carolina, and I will appreciate however far you want to take me,” he replies, with a surprising amount of kindness in his voice.
Natalie walks to her car, and Colby follows with his musty backpack. He lays the towel across the front pa**enger seat of Natalie's car before sitting down.
Natalie begins to drive.
“We can drive until we get tired of listening to each other talk,” Natalie said, with a little bit of sarcasm in her voice.
“I'm glad I have a credit card for gas money,” Colby laughed. “Because if that's the case then I will never stop talking.”
Natalie laughed, kind of forgetting about the horrible day she had had, and the mess her life had very quickly become.
“So you said you have nothing to go home to,” Colby leads into a conversation. Natalie was a pretty lady, nice car, and obviously a kind heart to stop on the side of I-40 for a dirty looking man. He couldn't imagine she didn't have anything to go home to.
“Well I have a fish named Bubbles,” Natalie laughed. “I live by myself in a little white one bedroom house. I haven't had much luck dating, and my life wasn't anything exciting so I decided to change my job and travel a little bit to see where I ended up. And, well, here I am. Helping a hitchhiker across California.”
“That's really surprising,” Colby spits out before really thinking what he was saying.
“Yeah, well and I got layed off this morning, actually, so now I'm going to have to sell my little house,” Natalie finished. Her emotion dropped, her face immediately showed sadness.
Colby felt kind of awkward. He didn't know this lady. How was he supposed to feel such emotion towards her? He looked out the window. The cacti among the desert ground were pa**ing quickly in the pinkish-orange horizon of the setting sun. He wondered if Natalie was going to drive through the night. He saw a sign that read: Flagstaff 202 miles. He figured he would hope for the best, and not ask. She seemed like the type of lady that would kick him out when she was ready to turn around.
“So, enough about me,” Natalie jumped to break the silence. “What about you? What in the world is taking you to South Carolina?” she asked.
Colby looked in her direction, his mind racing, wondering if he should tell her what he was doing, why he was depending on other people to help him travel across the country. He decided she was kind-hearted, and the worst she could do was laugh.
“Well,” Colby hesitated. “I'm going to be honest, and brace myself for your response,” he said.
Natalie adjusted her hands on the steering wheel as she glanced over her right shoulder at him, almost seeming nervous.
“So my life wasn't going anywhere, I hated my job. I worked downtown San Francisco at a coffee mill. I figured I was 27 years old and needed to figure something out, so I went and saw a psychic,” Colby told her.
Natalie chuckled a little and the sound of the word psychic.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm sure it sounds ridiculous, and it is kind of seeming like it might be, but I felt like I didn't have any other option. I sold my house, my cat, and my car,” Colby continued. He rubbed his palms down the tops of his thighs to try and ignore the sweat that was developing.
“That makes sense of the hitchhiking,” she laughed. “So what? The psychic told you to try again in South Carolina?” Natalie asked.
“Um, well, I guess, yeah. That's what she said,” Colby stuttered.
“I'm sorry, but that is very comical. I have always heard about people visiting a psychic, but I have never met anyone who has done it, let alone anyone who listened to one of those crazy people,” Natalie laughed.
Colby sat in thought for a minute, wondering if he was really doing something stupid, if South Carolina didn't have what the psychic had told him.
“I know this just makes it sound even worse, but she told me my soul mate is in Oak Island,” Colby said, shyly.
“Your soul mate, huh? That sure is interesting,” Natalie replied. She began thinking about how great it would be to hear she had a soul mate somewhere, given, hearing that from a psychic is a little crazy. She hadn't ever met a man she could stand living with for more than a month.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Colby looked out the window to the interstate, recognizing some of the landmarks of Phoenix.
“So, um. How are you doing on gas?” Colby asked.
“This baby gets some pretty good gas mileage,” Natalie said as she pat the steering wheel. “We've only used about a quarter of a tank.”
“Really? Wow, that's impressive,” Colby replied. “I was used to my truck, having to get gas every few hours.”
He looks out the window again, recognizing in the darkness that they are through Phoenix and headed towards New Mexico now. Time is pa**ing so quickly, he realized. He didn't even know this woman who stopped to check on him on the side of the interstate, and they have talked like they have known each other for months. He wonders if she feels the same way.
“So how far are you expecting me to take you?” Natalie asks, breaking the silence yet again.
“Are you sick of hearing me talk yet?” Colby asks with a chuckle.
“Surprisingly no,” she answers. “I find it pretty interesting that you are letting some lady who claims to be a psychic change your life.”
“Well it's also pretty interesting that I'm letting a strange woman drive me across the states,” Colby returns the joke.
“Fair enough,” Natalie laughs. “But really, how far are you expecting me to take you?”
“Well I hear Kansas City is a pretty cool place. If we make it that far, I can take you out somewhere to thank you for the lift,” Colby suggests.
Natalie adjusts in her seat, moves her hands from the top of the steering wheel, down to the bottom where her arms can rest in her lap. “Kansas City, that's quite a ways. It's probably like another 9 hours.”
“It was just a suggestion, don't feel obligated,” Colby says. I really appreciate you bringing me this far.”
“I'm a**uming you will be hungry in less than 9 hours, right?” Natalie asks. “We could stop here in the next few hours for a bite to eat and I will decide before then if I want to keep going or turn around.”
“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” Colby answers. “I mean, not to sounds too negative or anything, but what do you have to turn around for? What is back in California for you?”
Natalie looks at him. In the time she looks away from the road, an animal runs up to the side of the interstate, Colby catches a glimpse of the large elk and is able to get an expression across his face for Natalie to jerk her head back to the road, see the animal but have no idea what it is, just enough logic to slam on the breaks and bring the sports car to a screeching halt on the interstate. Before they can both take in a deep breath and relax their muscles enough to look outside for the animal, it had run back out into the darkness of the eastern New Mexico terrain.
“I am so sorry,” Natalie stammered as she pushed herself back up into her seat and began to accelerate back to the 80 mille per hour speed limit. “I wasn't very smart for to look away from the road. Your comment just made me get lost in thought for a minute, I guess.”
“It's fine, we didn't hit any animals, and we didn't wreck. But I might volunteer to find a different ride when we stop to eat,” Colby slyly joked.
Natalie gave him a glare without looking away from the road.
“Anyway, I am getting pretty hungry since you mentioned it. Let's stop in Texas. We aren't too far from the border,” Colby suggested.
“It's almost midnight. Our only option is probably going to be McDonald's,” Natalie said with a slight whine in her voice.
“Fine with me, I can always make room for a Big Mac,” Colby said, patting his beyond empty stomach. “I actually might need two to fill me up.”
“That is so gross,” Natalie quickly replied. “Do you know how bad that disgusting stuff is for you? I can barely think of it as food,” she said.
“Oh please. Everyone in this country eats it. Are you not American?” Colby sarcastically asked.
“Whatever,” Natalie answered, slightly sa**y this time.
The two looked out ahead and they continued to move steadily down the interstate, and at about the same time, they were able to see bright lights in the sky.
“Surely that's a town, right?” Colby asked.
“I would a**ume so. I'm not sure what else would be so lit up at this time of night,” Natalie replied.
As they continued on, Colby read a sign for Amarillo.
“I think that's Amarillo. Wow we have come a long way,” he said.
“Is that were you want to stop? I could get gas there too,” she said. “Then get back on the road back to California,” she added quickly.
“Yeah, let's stop there. We can just grab something quick, and I'll try to find my next ride to continue out east,” Colby said.
Natalie didn't say anything. As they approached the town, several fast food restaurants still had their open signs illuminated.
“Here to your left is a McDonald's,” Colby said.
“Of all the places, McDonald's is where you want to go?” she asked as she veered over to the left turning lane.
“I'm buying, so I think you will be able to handle it for one meal. A little bit of grease never hurt anyone,” Colby laughed.
Natalie let out a sigh as the light turned green and she turned left, and then right into the McDonald's parking lot.
“Would you like to eat inside?” Colby asked. “Get a little break from this car before you turn around and head home?”
“That's one of your better ideas since I've met you,” Natalie joked.
The two squirm out of the car, as their joints are slow to straighten after sitting in the same position for so long. When they walk inside, they discover that it isn't the cleanest, best-looking McDonald's they have ever experienced.
Natalie looks at Colby, and he lets out a laugh.
“Oh come on,” he said. “It's fine. We will be here for like 20 minutes anyway.”
They walked up to the counter. The dark-skinned man taking their order was very polite for the setting of the restaurant.
“Good evening. What can I get for you two,” the man asked. His nametag said Jerome.
“I will take a strawberry-banana smoothie, please, and a grilled chicken sandwich, but can I get apples instead of fries, please?” Natalie asked.
“Absolutely,” Jerome answered with a slight southern accent. “For you?” he asked as he nodded toward Colby.
“I would like two Big Mac burgers with a large fry and a large drink, Sir,” Colby said.
“Alrighty. $16.42 is your total. Will you be eating here?” Jerome asked.
“Yes, we will be staying in. Is that okay? You guys don't close down the inside?” Natalie asked.
“No, Ma'am. We stay open 24 hours every day,” the cashier answered.
Natalie nodded in slight surprise as she reached for her water cup and walked over to pick a table. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of people walking up to the side door of the McDonald's. They all had their hands in their pockets, which she found odd.
“Colby, come over here,” she called, trying to be quiet but loud enough for him to hear.
“Hold on, our food is almost done,” he answered as he turned back around.
“Just come here really quick,” she persisted.
Colby didn't listen; he stood at the counter starring at their tray, patiently waiting for his large fry to complete their order.
The group of people outside approached the door, and once they stepped into the light, they had black and red ski masks on and all black clothing, all the way down to black shoes. Natalie slid back in the booth, pressing her back firmly against the cold hard plastic material and her hands instinctively moved to her mouth. Several of the men still had their hands in their pockets. She sat in silence as she watched one of the men in the group step up behind Colby and pull his hands behind his back like he was being arrested. At that instant, two male workers noticed the group, and Natalie picked up on the signal between the workers to call the police. One of the workers walked up to the counter and couldn't even push any words out of his mouth. One of the masked men pulled his hands out of his pockets and had two pistols, one in each hand. He pointed them at the cashier, and said “money” is a grim, taunting voice. The cashier froze.
“Open the register,” the voice from behind the mask said.
Colby turned to try and look at Natalie, who hadn't moved a centimeter from her position when she saw them walk in. The masked man holding his hands jerked him back. The man with the pistols still had them pointed among the store workers. The cashier had opened the drawer, and another masked man was emptying the cash into a red drawstring bag.
Colby tried to jerk away from the man holding his arms behind his back, as one of the masked men walked over to approach Natalie. The man threw Colby to the ground and put a black shoe on his back, holding him down.
“Don't you dare touch her,” he screamed from beneath the pressure of the man's foot.
“Shut up, or a bullet will find your head,” that same taunting voice echoed from behind a mask and through the silent building.
Natalie scooted across the booth as the masked man tried to sit down and slide next to her.
“Get away from her, you son of a b**h,” Colby hollered from the ground. “Leave her alone. Do not touch her. I will k** you if you hurt…” Colby stammered as the pressure on his back increased.
Click. BANG!
Natalie let out an ear-piercing shriek as the masked man with the pistol co*ked the gun and pulled the trigger with the barrel pointed at Colby's head.
The masked man sitting next to her tried to reach out and grab her, but Natalie had jumped from the booth over toward the door. She saw Colby's motionless body and the blood coming from behind his left ear and knew the bullet hadn't missed. At the sight, Natalie took off sprinting outside where she could see the red, blue, and white flashing lights approaching the building, fearful a bullet might strike her too.
She frantically approached the police car about a block down the street.
“Black men with guns just shot the guy I was with,” Natalie stammered. The officer tenderly touched her shoulder and guided her into the police car, rea**uring that it was for safety reasons.
About ten minutes later, the office returned to the car and tried to get the most of Natalie's story. She couldn't get out full sentences or make very much sense of her words. Apparently by the time the officers reached the McDonald's, the men were nowhere to be found.
Natalie sat in the back seat of the police car with the lights still flashing, completely in shock. She felt like she was in a movie, or reading a book, or dreaming; experiencing anything besides real life. She just witnessed a murder, the murder of a man whom made her feel like she had never felt. Sitting in her tears, she was feeling sadness in her heart.