Hitchhikers Read Online Free

by burning
it all. It’s so sick it makes me shudder. I shove the newspaper
back under its wire holder and head to the front of the store.
    The lady at the cash register gives me a long
look as I pile everything onto the counter. Looking at all the
stuff I can’t afford, the magazines, candy, handy little gadgets, I
try to ignore the way she looks at me between every item she scans
through.
    “That’ll be twenty-three seventy-six,” she
said.
    I look down at the bills in my hands. I don’t
want to make a scene. “Shouldn’t it be twenty-two eighty?” I
ask.
    “There’s tax,” she tells me.
    Right. I should have known that. I swallow
and look everything over. What can I let go? My hand hesitates over
the pepperoni.
    “Is your mom outside? Maybe she’s got a
couple more dollars?” the woman asks.
    It sounds caring, like the lady’s trying to
give me a break, but I can hear the nosiness under it. She wants to
know if I’m here by myself, a young kid, a truant. She wants to
know if she ought to call the cops as soon as I walk out the
door.
    I pick up the pepperoni and hand it to her.
“I guess I won’t get this.” I won’t answer her questions. I won’t
give her any trouble or a reason to call.
    “Sure.” She punches the void into the cash
register. “Twenty-one fifty.”
    As I’m headed for the door with my bag of
food smelling so good I’m salivating, almost unable to wait until I
get outside to rip into it, she calls after me, “There are leash
laws in this town, you know.”
    Through the glass, the stray is sitting,
watching and waiting for me to come out.
    I sigh and push open the door.
     
     

 
-8-
    I eat in a barren little park that is
sun-bleached grass, a sandbox, and a rusty swing set enclosed by a
chain link fence. The emptiness allows me to eat the salami
straight from the wrapper, to rip hunks of bread off with my teeth,
and to burp so loud it echoes after washing it all down with the
Coke.
    At some point I had a dim thought about
sharing with the dog, but all she gets is one of the Slim Jims
before I am completely consumed by the eating.
    When everything is gone save the wrappers,
which go back into the bag to throw away, I lie down on the now-dry
ground and close my eyes to the scorching sun. My stomach pushes
out against my t-shirt. It’s a good feeling.
    I think about trying to hitch another ride
south. I think about moving to somewhere less out in the open,
where cops won’t see me and my leash-less dog. But it’s been so
long since I’ve been full and sleepy and warm, and I can’t convince
myself to get up.
    Even when the dog pushes her nose under my
arm and wriggles up close to me. She whuffs out a spicy
meat-smelling breath and kisses my cheek with her tongue before
closing her eyes. I can feel her heartbeat against my arm.
    Our breathing syncs up and slows until I
drift into sleep.
     
     

 
-9-
    “Hey, kid.”
    A foot nudging in my side, a shadow across my
face. My other side cold – no furry pillow.
    I crack my eyes open.
    “Hmm?” I ask the silhouetted man looming over
me. One of my arms flops up to shade my eyes, but I still can’t see
his face.
    Instead of an answer I get more of his boot
in my ribs. “Ow.”
    “Come on, get up, kid.”
    I roll over and push myself up.
    Dizziness.
    I swallow thickly and I’m kneeling. Blinking
to keep back those black spots dancing in my vision.
    “You can’t sleep here,” the man states.
    Now I can see he’s a cop, the blue uniform,
the black boots, his arms crossed.
    “’Kay.” I use the fence to help me get up -
my legs are so tired - grab my bag of trash and my coat. Head
out.
    Pray that damn cop doesn’t say anything else
to me.
    He doesn’t.
     
     

 
-10-
    I thought the dog was gone, but she was only
hiding. Popping out from some bushes behind a house further down
the road, she rejoins me like nothing happened.
    “You think you’re so smart, huh? Hiding from
the cops?”
    Her tongue lolls out of her mouth