Hitchhiker 1.2

“Thank you.”
The Hitchhiker slams the cab door behind him and walks away from the truck.
“Weirdo,” Jeffery the trucker says to himself.
He pulls back onto the motorway.
The Hitchhiker walks into the service building.
Toilet first. Takes a leak. Washes his hands.
There’s a queue for KFC.
That’s fine. Didn’t fancy the Colonel’s secret blend of herbs and spices anyway.
Burger King? No queue.
Angus burger sounds too much like anus burger to me.
Nowhere else to go.
Anuses it is for me, then. Suppose I’ve eaten worse.
He walks to the counter, but a young blonde woman beats him.
She becomes the queue. She turns to him.
“Sorry, did you wanna go first?” she asks him.
She’s pretty. She’ll do.
“We can go together.”
They each order a burger and take a seat.
She has panda eyes but smooth skin. She eats her food suggestively.
“So what are you after?” she says.
“Am I after…?”
He stares at her awkwardly for a few moments. Then it dawns on him.
“You’re a prostitute.”
She pauses and looks up from her burger.
“I am correct, aren’t I?”
“That was kinda the point.”
“Right. I apologise.”
He rips into his anus burger. They eat in silence for a few moments. She breaks it.
“So can I offer you anything?”
He tosses the last of the bread bun (soaked in mayonnaise and ketchup) into his mouth and swallows.
“No thank you. But-”
She stands in a hurry. He grabs her arm.
“I have something I can offer you.”
She looks into his eyes.
“I think you may be a bit confused as to what I’m offering.”
“Please. Sit.”
She rolls her eyes and sits back down.
“I’m going to touch your face now. Is that okay? Can I touch you?”
She grimaces in confusion.
“What for?”
“Please trust me.”
She looks him up and down for a few moments. She gives in.
He lifts his hand. Points out his index finger. Places it to her temple.
He closes his eyes and concentrates. She gapes at the wall.
In her mind she can see images, fragments of events, all too vague and fractured to describe. Later, she will recall the experience as ‘knowing’.
Now she knows.
He removes his finger and the room comes back to her.
“If you come with me now, that is what you will receive.”
She’s not sure what she saw, but she knows. She knows she needs to go with this man.
So she does.
They stand. He takes her hand and she smiles. He leads her out of the service station and into the smoking area. There are three people there using the shelter.
They all leave as The Hitchhiker and the girl approach. They aren’t sure why. They just know.
Now the area is empty.
The Hitchhiker reaches into his jacket pocket and removes a small pendant. It looks like the Christian cross, but with a loop at the top.
This is an ankh. The Egyptian symbol for eternal life.
His is small and wooden. And very old.
He places his finger and thumb into the loop and holds it to the back of the girl’s head. She looks at him with pleading eyes.
Show me again, they beg.
Gently, he pushes the stalk of the ankh into her skull. It slides in like the knife in butter. She smiles and closes her eyes.
Her feet are stuck to the floor. Her body vibrates. She winces; not in pain but pleasure. Sudden, sharp pleasure.
He smiles back at her. The deed is done. He roughly pulls the ankh from her head and places it back in his pocket.
She weeps.
He holds her body.
“Are you here?” he queries.
There is a long pause.
“Yes”, she finally answers.
“No. But soon. It will be soon. Give it time.”
He nods reluctantly and forces a smile.
“I’ve missed you”, he tells her.
“And I you.”
She offers out her hand to him. He takes it. They walk away from the smoking shelter, toward the car park. They spot a bus, ready to leave.
“It’s time to take a coach trip.”


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