Nobody

Shedding My Skin

I woke up covered in sweat with a ringing headache, the inside of the truck like an oven. I got out, relishing the cooler air, and walked over the drinking fountain. I ignored the fact that people were staring as I drank for a few long minutes and then splashed water on my face. I probably looked like hell, but I didn't care.

Pru was dead.

Good enough to wake me up. I drank some more then wandered into the bathroom, standing at the urinal and taking a leak. Once that was done I washed my hands, staring at my reflection for a long time. My hair was sweaty, messy. I needed to cut my hair.

Oh well.

I got back into the truck, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette before firing up the truck. I pulled out, got back on the highway, and started driving again. I cracked open a soda and took a long swig off of it.

I had no idea where I was going.

The miles went under the wheels as I drove, letting the radio run static whenever I went out of range of a radio station. The sun slowly set, leaving me driving through the darkness the headlights sweeping the freeway in front of me, heading in the direction the sun had set. I passed a sign welcoming me to New Mexico and it felt like a punch to the gut.

The sign that the next exit was the last gas for three hundred miles made me hit the blinker. The gas tank was in the red when I pulled off into a truck stop. I parked up by the bays that were advertising new tires and oil changes, grabbed the ball cap, and headed inside.

It was largely deserted and had the feel that most people just gassed up before moving on either east or west. The scrub brush around it would quickly turn to desert to the west, and stay scrub to the east, back the way I had come from. Back toward the ranch, which is where I should have been.

But Pru was dead.

I walked over to the stereos, looking at them. There were the new GPS's like my sister loved mixed in, as well as stereos that worked with iPods, equalizers, bass boosters, and all kinds of vehicle electronics. I chose two that looked good behind the glass and turned away.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked when I wandered up to the desk.

"Your mechanics in?" I asked her.

She nodded, snapping her gum.

"Need an oil change, brakes checked, radiator flushed, new radio," I rattled off the number to her, "An iPod, new laptop," again I gave her a number.

"Woah, woah, woah. Give me a minute, Tex," she smiled. We were in New Mexico now. She got a scratch pad and moved around the counter, grabbing a set of keys. "Let's get started with the stereo, then we'll talk to the mechanics."

I chose a digital one that looked kind of neat. It had auto-scan for when I went out of range of radio station and a way to plug an iPod in. I chose a metallic red iPod and a black laptop with wireless capability. A new cell-phone, one of the new "smart phones", and a GPS.

The mechanics were all sun tanned men with squints and greasy coveralls. I gave them the keys to the truck and they pulled it inside. I even bought new tires and a pair of spares, one for underneath, one to be mounted on the tailgate. I bought a five gallon steel gas can to be mounted on the tailgate, a brush guard, and a winch.

I was told it would take about four hours to complete. I grabbed the suitcase out of the cab of the truck and took it with me inside.

"Do you have anyone who can do haircuts?" I asked the woman.

"No, sorry," she said.

I picked up a pair of clippers and came back. "Will a hundred dollars convince someone to run these over my head?"