Monday, November 28, 2011

Evening Drive (5,4)

The following is a result of rolling a five and a four . . .

Grace nervously gnawed on the red vine, glancing over her shoulder into the back seat. She knew Diggins was back there somewhere, but it was too dark to see anything. Dark in the car. Dark on the road. She was sure that she would feel perfectly safe if she had ever seen this stretch of road in daylight. It was probably lined with lovely houses full of kind and friendly people. Still, she couldn't shake the unease and sheepishly locked her doors. A big tough protective dog in the backseat would make her feel a lot safer. But sweet little Diggins was just a puppy, eager to meet every dog, squirrel, child, mailman, or even axe murderer. She didn't discriminate – she knew nothing of evil. Even if Diggins sensed danger, she was securely fastened in her harness – perfectly harmless.

Diggins had been whimpering and Grace realized that she'd have to let the dog out to pee soon. Her little Ford Focus was not fancy, but she still didn't want it to smell like dog pee. “There, there sweetie. You did soooo good in puppy class tonight Diggins. Yessss, who's a good dog – yes you are.” Her hands, and therefore the redvine, smelled vaguely of Pupperoni dog treats so she tossed it into the car's trash. Every few hundred feet there were the beginnings of roads to turn off on. Each was blocked by a construction barrier. It was too dark to tell if the roads continued after the barrier. The whimpering continued. “Well, shit Diggins, you win. But you'd better be quick about it.” Her tires rolled over the construction gravel as she pulled over and the car slowed to a stop. She clamored over the seat to unhook the harness and attach it to the leash. Suddenly eager to get the whole business over with she opened the door and coaxed Diggins out. The air was cold and she had not bothered to put on a coat. She held her arms closely and shivered, pleading with Diggins to stop sniffing around and just pee. But Diggins was accustomed to well groomed lawns so the tumbled dirt and rocks at the side of the road didn't feel quite right.

The headlights in the distance didn't help matters. Grace wasn't sure who was behind the wheel or whether they'd approve of her make shift parking spot and dog potty. Feeling very exposed she averted her eyes as it drove past slowly. Then it stopped. And it backed up. Gripped by an irrational fear, she snatched up the the dog, shoved her in the car, apologizing, “You can pee in the car if you want to.”  She struggled to close the door jumping as a man's voice called from the dark depths of the truck's front seat, “Are you OK.” Her reply was hurried and awkward, “Yes – I'm fine.” She threw in a “thanks for asking” as she stumbled into the front seat, slammed the car door, and shakily started the car.  Back on the road, she felt ridiculous - embarrassed. He was just trying to be helpful. “I'm sure I looked like an idiot,” she said to herself.  And then to the pup - “but you can shit in the car too if you want – we're not stopping till we get home.”

The man in the truck shrugged as he watched the woman drive off.  He peered over the back of his seat, “Thought maybe I'd found you a friend,” he drawled to the wild eyed young woman gagged and bound in the truck's back seat.

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