Passing Through.
Chapter one
He smelled like sweat, and his hair was beginning to resemble a rat’s nest, but his steady stride, easy smile, and cheery demeanor made it impossible to imagine that he had not slept in a bed in three weeks, or that he’d been walking for five hours today. His name was Jon, and you could talk to him for hours on end without learning anything more about him than that. He liked it that way, and always had.
Before him, the road stretched far into the distance, lined by reddish dirt, dead grass, plenty of rocks to trip on, and rarely a small tree to provide some meager shade. A short distance further, the beginnings on a town could be seen coming into view. In another mile he was on the sidewalk with the wheels of his suitcase whistling along behind him. Whether it be tucked into the pockets of his pants, or paced tightly inside that case, everything he owned was always with him.
He walked along the sidewalk, looking from building to building, humming the tune of a song he hadn’t decided on words for quietly to himself. He was getting a tiny bit hungry, but he knew he had to wait a bit. He had to make the 36 dollars in his pocket last as long as he could. Instead, he opted for rest, and made his way to the small town park, taking a seat on a park bench.
Jon stretched out her legs, flexed his feet, and let out a relaxed sigh. God his legs were killing him. The day was warm, a pleasant breeze blew through the park, and the old tree near Jon’s bench cast a cool shadow over him. As good a place as any to take a nap, he thought to himself as he leaned his head back on the bench and let his heavy-lidded eyes close. Just as he began to fade into shallow sleep, a young woman’s shout split the air. He jolted to his feet, looked one way then the other, and suddenly saw a young man in ragged clothes running past him, carrying a purse under his arm.
Before he really knew what had happened, John felt his feet pounding the ground beneath him, and was reaching his hand toward the purse snatcher. It was only moments later when his hand closed around the collar of the man’s torn shirt. John dug his heels into the ground, pulled back his arm, and sent the man sprawling into the dirt. His eyes darted to the purse, as it flew through the air and landed hard on the ground, spilling some of it’s contents. He rushed to the place where it had fallen, and began to replace the things which had fallen out. However, he saw two twenty dollar bills on the very top of the pile, and slipped them quickly into his front pocket.
Not a moment later, a young lady maybe a few years older than him, came running up to him, panting and looking very upset. He handed over her purse, and looked about for the grounded assailant. The man must have fled, for he was nowhere to be seen. The woman opened the purse and perused its contents before scowling slightly and saying “Damn, the bastard took off with the money.” She only looked upset for a moment, however, and afterwards turned back to John, wearing an amiable smile. “Hey, thanks for the help. You didn’t need to do that.”
John grinned widely in reply and waved off her thanks. “Ah, it wasn’t anything that great. After all, the dude still ripped you off, if you’re sure the money didn’t just move around in there. Either way, you’re very welcome, and the name’s John.” He held out his hand to shake. The young lady took it in a firm grip he would not have guessed her to have.
“I’m sure, unfortunately,” she said almost mournfully. ”Well there goes lunch. Either way, the name’s Danielle, but people call me Danni. Good to meet you. I would stay and chat, but I need to get home if I feel like eating anytime soon.”
John’s smile widened, and he answered her in happy tones. “Well, it just so happens I was thinking about getting some lunch myself. If you know a place that isn’t too pricy, I could treat you. Sound good.?” Danni stood quiet for a moment, a look of concentration on her face, as she weighed her options. When she finished, her smile returned.
“Sure,“ she said before walking back the way she had come and gesturing for him to follow. Soon he had swung his rolling suitcase up into the back of her truck and climbed into the passenger seat. He looked out the window and took in the feel of the town he’d come to. It had the feel of a suburb connected to some larger city, but he remembered from the map he’d picked up at a gas station a day ago that the nearest big city was thirty miles south.
Before he could think much more, they were parked in front of a small burger place, with a large and faded sign on the front proclaiming it to be Hardy’s Diner. Though he could not yet speak for the food, the building was certainly passed its expiration date. He was tentative, but a reassuring glance from Danni got him through the doors and into the dusty booth.
He looked the menu over quickly, and set him mind on The Original, a bacon cheese burger. He looked across the table at the young blonde across from him, and then at the restaurant around them. It was a roadhouse if ever he’d seen one, with a bar to one side, a pool room, and a buck hunter arcade game near the entrance. Danni looked out of place, but she carried herself as if she came here all the time. He has little time to think this over, however, before their waitress, a large woman with brown hair put up in a bun, stopped by to take their order.
“The usual for me,” said Danni without having a look at the menu. She folded it and handed it to the waitress.
“Got it. One Big Bob, medium well, fries and a coke. And what for you, Mr?” The waitress turned toward him with a notepad and pencil in hand. He folded his menu and handed it up to her.
“One Original, with fries. Just water to drink.” The woman jotted it down, and ran off to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before they began to chat casually, but there was something off about her now. It took a while for him to put a finger on it, but soon he saw that he unease was to do with a man at the bar. He looked to be around twenty-five, with shaggy hair and a permanent scowl, and his eyes hadn’t left Danni since they’d come in. Soon enough, however, he seemed to get fed up, throw down payment, and leave in a huff. Not long after that, she was speaking easy, and smiling again.
By the time the waitress had returned, they were more concerned with then conversation than the food. “So, I guess you lugging that case around means you took off, right?” When he nodded, but did not answer, she continued. “Must move around a lot,. What do you do out on the road? I mean it has to get pretty boring.” For a moment, he was quiet, and she was about to speak again, when he responded.
“I have always liked music,” he said, “but I don’t own a player. Mostly I just make up tunes and lyrics as I go.” He took a sip of his water, started to cut off a bit of burger, but she stopped him.
“So you sing, huh? Lets hear something then.” He signed, took a breath, and thought for a moment. When he was ready, he began with the tune he’d been humming on the walk into town, making the words as he went. He was proud of himself, not having stumbled at all.
“Nothin’ gets me high, like the sun in the sky, beatin’ heat over my shoulders as I pass on by. Nothin’ is as rare as the taste of the air, as I’m walking down the highway to I don’t know where.” The words fit well enough, though he was suddenly acutely aware of the fact he had never sung for anyone but himself. She was still smiling, at least.
“You know,” She said after a bit, “that’s not so bad. Just one tiny criticism.” She took a drink of soda before she continued. He leaned forward to express interest. She laughed slightly, and said, “The song is fine, but you can’t sing.” With that she took a bite of the huge Big Bob, and the time for talking ended.
Before him, the road stretched far into the distance, lined by reddish dirt, dead grass, plenty of rocks to trip on, and rarely a small tree to provide some meager shade. A short distance further, the beginnings on a town could be seen coming into view. In another mile he was on the sidewalk with the wheels of his suitcase whistling along behind him. Whether it be tucked into the pockets of his pants, or paced tightly inside that case, everything he owned was always with him.
He walked along the sidewalk, looking from building to building, humming the tune of a song he hadn’t decided on words for quietly to himself. He was getting a tiny bit hungry, but he knew he had to wait a bit. He had to make the 36 dollars in his pocket last as long as he could. Instead, he opted for rest, and made his way to the small town park, taking a seat on a park bench.
Jon stretched out her legs, flexed his feet, and let out a relaxed sigh. God his legs were killing him. The day was warm, a pleasant breeze blew through the park, and the old tree near Jon’s bench cast a cool shadow over him. As good a place as any to take a nap, he thought to himself as he leaned his head back on the bench and let his heavy-lidded eyes close. Just as he began to fade into shallow sleep, a young woman’s shout split the air. He jolted to his feet, looked one way then the other, and suddenly saw a young man in ragged clothes running past him, carrying a purse under his arm.
Before he really knew what had happened, John felt his feet pounding the ground beneath him, and was reaching his hand toward the purse snatcher. It was only moments later when his hand closed around the collar of the man’s torn shirt. John dug his heels into the ground, pulled back his arm, and sent the man sprawling into the dirt. His eyes darted to the purse, as it flew through the air and landed hard on the ground, spilling some of it’s contents. He rushed to the place where it had fallen, and began to replace the things which had fallen out. However, he saw two twenty dollar bills on the very top of the pile, and slipped them quickly into his front pocket.
Not a moment later, a young lady maybe a few years older than him, came running up to him, panting and looking very upset. He handed over her purse, and looked about for the grounded assailant. The man must have fled, for he was nowhere to be seen. The woman opened the purse and perused its contents before scowling slightly and saying “Damn, the bastard took off with the money.” She only looked upset for a moment, however, and afterwards turned back to John, wearing an amiable smile. “Hey, thanks for the help. You didn’t need to do that.”
John grinned widely in reply and waved off her thanks. “Ah, it wasn’t anything that great. After all, the dude still ripped you off, if you’re sure the money didn’t just move around in there. Either way, you’re very welcome, and the name’s John.” He held out his hand to shake. The young lady took it in a firm grip he would not have guessed her to have.
“I’m sure, unfortunately,” she said almost mournfully. ”Well there goes lunch. Either way, the name’s Danielle, but people call me Danni. Good to meet you. I would stay and chat, but I need to get home if I feel like eating anytime soon.”
John’s smile widened, and he answered her in happy tones. “Well, it just so happens I was thinking about getting some lunch myself. If you know a place that isn’t too pricy, I could treat you. Sound good.?” Danni stood quiet for a moment, a look of concentration on her face, as she weighed her options. When she finished, her smile returned.
“Sure,“ she said before walking back the way she had come and gesturing for him to follow. Soon he had swung his rolling suitcase up into the back of her truck and climbed into the passenger seat. He looked out the window and took in the feel of the town he’d come to. It had the feel of a suburb connected to some larger city, but he remembered from the map he’d picked up at a gas station a day ago that the nearest big city was thirty miles south.
Before he could think much more, they were parked in front of a small burger place, with a large and faded sign on the front proclaiming it to be Hardy’s Diner. Though he could not yet speak for the food, the building was certainly passed its expiration date. He was tentative, but a reassuring glance from Danni got him through the doors and into the dusty booth.
He looked the menu over quickly, and set him mind on The Original, a bacon cheese burger. He looked across the table at the young blonde across from him, and then at the restaurant around them. It was a roadhouse if ever he’d seen one, with a bar to one side, a pool room, and a buck hunter arcade game near the entrance. Danni looked out of place, but she carried herself as if she came here all the time. He has little time to think this over, however, before their waitress, a large woman with brown hair put up in a bun, stopped by to take their order.
“The usual for me,” said Danni without having a look at the menu. She folded it and handed it to the waitress.
“Got it. One Big Bob, medium well, fries and a coke. And what for you, Mr?” The waitress turned toward him with a notepad and pencil in hand. He folded his menu and handed it up to her.
“One Original, with fries. Just water to drink.” The woman jotted it down, and ran off to the kitchen. It wasn’t long before they began to chat casually, but there was something off about her now. It took a while for him to put a finger on it, but soon he saw that he unease was to do with a man at the bar. He looked to be around twenty-five, with shaggy hair and a permanent scowl, and his eyes hadn’t left Danni since they’d come in. Soon enough, however, he seemed to get fed up, throw down payment, and leave in a huff. Not long after that, she was speaking easy, and smiling again.
By the time the waitress had returned, they were more concerned with then conversation than the food. “So, I guess you lugging that case around means you took off, right?” When he nodded, but did not answer, she continued. “Must move around a lot,. What do you do out on the road? I mean it has to get pretty boring.” For a moment, he was quiet, and she was about to speak again, when he responded.
“I have always liked music,” he said, “but I don’t own a player. Mostly I just make up tunes and lyrics as I go.” He took a sip of his water, started to cut off a bit of burger, but she stopped him.
“So you sing, huh? Lets hear something then.” He signed, took a breath, and thought for a moment. When he was ready, he began with the tune he’d been humming on the walk into town, making the words as he went. He was proud of himself, not having stumbled at all.
“Nothin’ gets me high, like the sun in the sky, beatin’ heat over my shoulders as I pass on by. Nothin’ is as rare as the taste of the air, as I’m walking down the highway to I don’t know where.” The words fit well enough, though he was suddenly acutely aware of the fact he had never sung for anyone but himself. She was still smiling, at least.
“You know,” She said after a bit, “that’s not so bad. Just one tiny criticism.” She took a drink of soda before she continued. He leaned forward to express interest. She laughed slightly, and said, “The song is fine, but you can’t sing.” With that she took a bite of the huge Big Bob, and the time for talking ended.