Golden Greaser

- 9 -

      I force myself to keep walking. 

     The defiance and anger I had felt before was slowly trickling out of me, replacing the adrenaline with tiredness and an ache for food in my stomach. 

      My head starts to swim, and my feet seem to get heavier with each step. 

    What was going on? 

    Then, I remembered I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast and refused Darrel's offer for lunch at his place. 

    I pressed my hands to my forehead, trying to relieve the fluidity feeling sloshing inside my skull. 

    I have to keep going. I need to keep going.

    Please, let me keep going.

     Loudly and all too familiar, I hear the roar of an engine accelerator. 

    My head jerks up, searching for the source of the jarring blare. 

    For a moment, it brings me out of my swirling trance and levels my eyesight. Suddenly I feel my senses recalibrate, and the ache for food softens.

     I look ahead just in time to find that I've reached the end of the sidewalk, underestimating the speed of my pace. I stop short, my arms going out and my feet dig hard into the soles of my boots.

   But before I could even think about crossing the street, the blue, rusted pickup swerves around the corner with a slight screech, cutting my path off with the passenger door.

     "I don't like being ignored." Darrel states, cocking his eyebrow as he looks at me through the opened window.

     "You won't quit, will you?" I ask, tiredly.

      "I ain't a quitter. On nobody or no thing." He pauses, tapping his finger on the wheel. "Get in. I'm not asking you again."

      I was tired of arguing with him, considering that every time I tried it always ended up with him winning the debate. 

     So, with dramatic hesitation, I slide into the pickup with a sigh, slamming the door beside me.

     "There. Happy?" I say, suddenly realizing how sharp my tone was.

     "Nah, but it'll do for now." He replies, putting the truck into drive and whipping the wheel to the left. "Now listen here, if we can't find anybody by three then I'll try and scope somebody out after work tomorrow. Alright?"

     "Look, Darrel--"

      He glares at me. "Don't you Darrel me one more time. Got it?"

      I only nod, resisting the temptation to lay into him. 

     But before I could even get another word out a loud, food-craving grumble disperses the air of the truck cab.

      "What was that?" He asks, braking at a stoplight.

      "Nothing." I retort.

      "I know what it was, I was just asking to not sound like I was calling you out." He pauses. "You're hungry."

      "I'm fine."

      "Yeah, right." He scoffs. "I'm taking you to the Dingo. It's closest."

       He swerves right as the light turns green, making a wall of gravity shove my shoulder into the door. 

     I throw my hands up, exasperated.