Breaking Electricity

His thumb was up and I furrowed my eyebrows together as I saw him stomping along the highway. It was pouring outside, and almost six o’clock. I didn’t think anything of him until I felt my father slowing the car down. I looked over at him in shock and glared at him. He gave me that look – you know, the one that says “don’t give me that look” – and then hopped out of our old, red pick-up. I only folded my arms across my chest, and suddenly felt extremely out of my element, as my father was letting a complete stranger into our truck so we could take him where he needed to go. My dad got back in the car first and we waited for the guy to put his stuff in the bed. I looked over at him with my look again.

“Are you completely crazy?”

“Not now, Annalisse. It’s pouring outside.”

“Exactly; that’s really creepy, Dad.” He didn't say anything. “The next place we’re going to end up is his creepy house where he slaughters poor, innocent families like us. And the next thing you know – there will be a movie based off of our murders.”

As soon as I finished the sentence, he opened the passenger door and I looked over at him, still protecting myself with my arms across my chest. I looked over at my father again and he raised an eyebrow, telling me to scoot toward the middle. I sighed and un-buckled my seat belt, and then shifted my body on the middle console.

My dad pushed the car along the highway as an uncomfortable silence fell upon us. My shoulder was pressed against his, and I could feel the damp seeping through my own hooded sweatshirt. He was freezing, I could tell, and I almost felt a little sorry for him; almost.

“So, where are you from?”

My eyes popped out of my sockets as I heard my father trying to make conversation with the killer. It wasn’t until he started speaking, that I actually looked over at him. Short, dirty-blond hair, pushed about in a mess. He was skinny, but not too skinny. He had extremely large hands and calloused fingers – he was a guitar player, maybe bass. I knew he played some sort of instrument. He was wearing tight jeans and a Ryan Adams shirt.

“I’m from Arizona – Tempe,” He said quietly, and I looked at his face. He was extremely attractive. “Things weren’t great at home.”

“Well, I’m Jesse, and this is my daughter, Annalisse. She looks about your age. How old are you, John?”

“I turned nineteen today.”

“Well Anna’s birthday was just last week; she’s eighteen.”

I didn’t approve of my father telling this John kid everything about me, especially the date of my birth. I just sunk into my seat further as John smiled down at me. Then I blew the bangs out of my face and gave my father and John a sarcastic smile as Dad turned into a gas station.

Both Dad and John got out of the truck, but I decided to stay in and contemplate exactly what my father might be talking to him about as he pumped the gas into the truck. I just hoped he wasn’t talking about me. The last thing I needed this summer was to be raped by a kid who says he’s innocent, but really only wants to murder me.

I saw John walk into the gas station market and glared at Dad again as he got back in the truck. “Dad, what are you up to?”

“Well, he’s not in trouble. All he said was that things aren’t good at home.”

“Well that has nothing to do with us, so let’s just leave him here. He sounds like a smart boy, he can find his way.”

“You know I’m not that kind of man, Annalisse,” He said sternly.

“I know you’re not. And I know you’re helping him, but haven’t you helped him enough?” When he didn’t answer, I sighed. “All I’m saying is that who knows where he wants to go. You’re going to get tired of driving him, and I just want to go home.”

“You’re right,” He nodded, and I gave him a smile. “That’s why I invited him to our house for the summer.”

“What?”

“I gave him a job to work on the farm for the summer.”

“Well that’s just great, Dad,” I laughed bitterly. “You’re going to get us both killed within the first night.”

“Glad you agree with my decision. Now let’s go home.”