All the Small Moments

drucella

The purring engines of motorcycles were the sound of heaven in the blistering desert. Drucella pushed her white bicycle on the roughen sidewalk of the small town of Crest, California. School dismissed, and it was time to pull the evening shift at her family's convenience store.

Davis Corner sat on the edge of the corner of town, and being the only gas station for miles, they got good service. However, it was still hard to make ends meet, considering the low population. The last time the drab building got a facelift was when her parents came in with a lump sum of money. That was before her life turned on its axis. Drucella didn't find out where that money appeared until the sheriff took her parents out in handcuffs.

Crest was in a drought that would be meeting its end soon. Drucella could smell rain on the horizon. Dust was flying about, coating all the buildings and cars. She sucked in some dry dirt, causing a gritty cough to escape.

Drucella parked her bike on the side of the dingy tan concrete building. A blur of muscles and long legs jogging her way came into her view. A smirk slowly crept on her face. 

"There is the girl of the hour." Colter rushed over, seizing Drucella up in a hug.

"What do you want?" She proclaimed.

Colter sat her back down on the ground softly. "Can't I compliment my girlfriend?"

Drucella slid her backpack off, walking to the small outbuilding behind to change from her leather skirt to more comfortable clothes: torn-up jean shorts and a baggy band tee. "Yes, but you forget I know you better than anyone."

Colter followed her like a lost puppy. "Okay, you caught me. Please finish my history essay. You know how much I loathe anything about World War II."

"What do I get in return?" Drucella walked into the building littered with boxes and spiderwebs.

The muscular arm Colter used to throw a football for the high school football team halted the door. "Anything. Just name it, and it is yours."

Drucella contemplated on this. Anything, she thought. It sounded too good to be true. "Get Presley to let me drive his Harley." She knew he would say no, but that was what she wanted. She wouldn't give up until Presley eventually gave in.

Drucella loved motorcycles. When the biker gang, Black Toxins, stopped at the gas station, she would smell the fumes and long to feel the wind in her hair. Her dirt bike was closest to a motorcycle she had until she totaled it going too fast on a dirt curve. She remembered those days fondly kicking up the kickstand at dawn and not putting it back down until dusk.

Colter scratched his brown, buzz-cut hair. Drucella loved his hair like this. He would cut his thick locks when the air grew hotter. She stared at him admirably. His football jersey was tight along his biceps. The yellow of Stinger's logo was bright on his dark bronze skin. "You know that is a long shot, but I can try. Deal?"

"Deal." Drucella smiled playfully before closing the door in Colter's face. She sat down her brown, suede backpack on a crate before quickly changing. She wouldn't be forced to work in anything uncomfortable, even if it was her favorite skirt or black fitted shirt. Working at a gas station warranted many substances getting on the counter, too, so there was no chance of getting her good clothes dirty.

Colter was long gone before Drucella went into the store. She knew he was running to the saloon down the half-mile lane on the store's right. The old saloon was perfect for Black Toxins hangout. Freeman Hayes restored the saloon, adding pool tables, neon lights, and fully restored bedrooms and furnished bathrooms. Drucella hadn't been there in so long, yet she couldn't forget the smell of whiskey and cigars lingering in the air.