14.6.2009
Impala Cruise 2
http://www.netsaga.is/media/files/Undir%20Br%C3%BAn%20Trommunar.mp3 "No problem," she said. "I heard you tell the cop that your name is Obadiah Cross. Obadiah’s from the Bible, isn’t it?" "Yes." "So, what are you—some kind of preacher?" "Look, just because your parents named you after somebody in the Bible, it doesn’t mean you’re going to grow up religious." "Yeah, that’s true. Not every Mary is a virgin." He looked straight ahead. She studied his face in the instrument panel lights. "You didn’t answer my question." "What? Am I a preacher?" He hesitated. "No." Not anymore, he thought. "Well, you look like one." "No, I don’t. And what about you. I’ll bet your name doesn’t say anything about who you are either. What is your name? I never caught it." "Impala." "Oh, come on. You can do better than that. If you’re going to lie about it, at least make it believable." "I’m not lying. That’s my name." "Really? "No, of course not. That wouldn’t work. The correct order is Chevy Impala." "Okay. Then what is your last name?" "Cruise." He checked to see if she was smiling. She was not. He began to laugh. It didn’t phase her. "Go ahead. Get it out of your system." "You’re serious. Your name is really ‘Impala Cruise.’" "That’s right." "Why? Why in the world—" "—would my parents give me such a crazy name? Most people ask me if they were on drugs at the time." "Well—yeah. That would explain it." "Actually, it made perfect sense to name me Impala…since I was born in the back seat of the car." "Your mom didn’t make it to the hospital in time." "Hey, when I’m ready to go, nobody’s gonna stop me. I’ve always been that way." "So, who delivered you? Your dad?" "Yep. And that’s why he could never bring himself to get rid of this car. He just kept fixing it up." "This "Twenty-four." Obadiah had guessed twenty-one. He was twenty-six. "This is a ‘72 model. It was my sixteenth birthday present." "Okay. Glad to meet you, Impala." She nodded. "But you made up the last name, right? You don’t want to give me your real last name because then I could track you down later. You’re scared of me." "Oh, yeah, I’m scared of you," she said sarcastically. "That’s why I busted the bad guy’s balls for you. That’s why I gave you a ride—because I’m scared to death of you." "You’re right. I’m being stupid." "You’re just hungry. You can’t think straight. How about a hamburger?" "That sounds great." She pointed to a McDonald’s billboard. It was five miles ahead. "Only thing is…I don’t have any money." "They take credit cards." "Mine are all maxed out." She thought for moment. "How were you going to buy anything at that convenience store if you didn’t have any money?" "I was…uh…" "You were going to rob it. You’re no better than that other guy. He just beat you to it. I should have let him shoot you." Obadiah hung his head. She let him mope for a while and then punched him in the arm. "Get over it. I’ll pay for the burgers." "Why? I’m a criminal. Don’t you want to pull over and throw me out of your car?" "I should." "Do it." "Nope. Gotta get you back home safe and sound." "I don’t have a home." "Yeah, you do. In Beaumont." He stared at her. "What makes you think I’m from Beaumont? It’s 200 miles from here." She looked as if she realized she’d said too much. "Zeela sent you. I should have known. How much is she paying you?" "Zeela? Who’s that?" "Don’t play dumb. It’s too late for that." "She’s not paying me anything." "Oh, I get it. You’re working off a debt. You jumped bail and now you’re having to pay her back." "She’s a friend." "My mother doesn’t have any friends. She helps creeps get out of jail—for money." "It’s a legitimate business." "It’s a racket." "Fine. Whatever. She’s worried about you. That’s why I came." "Well, you just go back and tell her to mind her own business. I don’t need her pity." "It’s not pity." "Pull over." He reached for the door handle, as though he might jump out before she even slowed down. She eased up on the accelerator. "What about the hamburger? And fries?" "I don’t care." But he couldn’t convince himself—much less her. "Let’s eat first. Then we can go our separate ways." Obadiah didn’t care if he ever saw Zeela again. As long as he stayed away, he could blame all his troubles on her. If she had just let him live his life as he saw fit, and not tried to control him, things could have turned out so differently. He sensed a car approaching from the rear and turned around. The headlights blinded him. Impala glared into the rear view mirror. "What’s your problem, Man? If you’re in such a hurry, just pass me." Obadiah froze. Was it him? Had he seen Obadiah getting into the car? What if he had a gun? The car raced around them and speed away. Obadiah sighed, "Whew." "What?" "That car…he almost hit us." "If he had, he would have been sorry." "What do you mean?" "This thing is a tank. It’s 4,300 pounds of heavy-duty steel. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore." "No, I guess not." False alarm. But he knew his killer was coming. It was only a matter of time.
He buckled his seat belt as she drove out onto the road. "Thanks again for saving me back there."