“You looked like you could use some help,” you say. “It’s a hot day and no one’s around….”
Jessie gives you a baffled look. “Are you for real? Listen, , nobody does nothin’ out here for no one just because they want to ‘help out’. I’ve been hitching since I was thirteen, and let me tell you: the highway isn’t anything but a freakshow on wheels!”
She turns in her seat to face you more directly. The wind beyond the passenger side door catches her ponytail and whips it around, but Jessie doesn’t seem to notice. “You know, I could be a bunch of trouble, too. You know a girl can make trouble, right? I could have a gun or a knife…you just don’t know.
“I could be total PSYCHO!” Jessie leans over, close, and licks your ear. Then she retreats, laughing giddily. She switches on the radio. A static-filled classic rock station starts playing, the music almost swallowed up by the roar of the wind. Jessie cranks the volume and fiddles with the tuner.
“Hey!” Jessie exclaims. “What kind of music do you like? I have some CDs in my bag we can listen to!”
With that, Jessie leans over the front seat and into the back. The denim of her jeans stretches tightly across her rear, making it clear that she’s wearing nothing underneath. You’re aware of clattering plastic noises in the back seat as Jessie rummages around in her things, and then she’s back with a fistful of battered jewel cases with homemade labels.
She fans the CDs out, but you can’t really look at them without taking your eyes off the road. “Come on, pick one!” |