Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)She was roused from a sleep she didn't know she had even taken until his hand touched her shoulder briefly and he said something. At least Montana thought he did, she was too busy trying to figure out what was going on. More importantly, where she was. With her head pressed against the passenger window quite awkwardly, it all came back to her. Embarrassed, the woman quickly composed herself by removing her head from the glass where a smudge imprint of her face was left behind. Not that it really mattered, the inside was just as filthy as the outside, the former being a step above the latter's bird torpedoes that seemed permanently caked on having not been washed in a long while. Sitting up properly bound by a seat belt, she ran her slender fingers through her dark locks of shoulder-long hair eventually tucking some behind her ears doing her best to stare ahead at the darkened road. Only the headlights of the pickup guided the way on such a long stretch where not a single car had been seen for some time. In the moments she was up for however. To be perfectly honest, she could have gone another couple of minutes with some shut-eye. She was tired. It had been an exhausting week on the move and Montana couldn't remember the last time she had herself a decent night's rest. It wasn't going to be here though. She vowed, the moment the grizzly bear of a man stopped on the side of the road to pick her up, to remain awake and alert. Both of which she failed. She was fine now. Behind curvy black eyelashes, sharp jade eyes made a corner glance to the driver only briefly. He wasn't really looking at her so much as he paid attention to the road. So, why did he wake her? She scowled, pressing her naturally pink lips together. Maybe he didn't want a stranger sleeping in his seen better days red Chevy, not that she really wanted to anyway or it could be, he wanted a hand.
He was just that type of person. Tufts of greasy hair and a mutton chop beard, he wore faded coveralls, and had a poker face. Montana couldn't mistake the look in his beady eyes either when he pushed open the door for her to get in. She had seen it a thousand times. Well, maybe not to that level of exaggeration, but it was all the same. The stranger did her a favor by giving her a ride and in turn he wanted something only her mouth or elsewhere could give. No type of sincere exchange was given between them. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't getting anything. All she wanted to do was get to the city and be just another face in the crowd. The woman with the heart-shaped face bit her bottom lip taking a chance to look at the man. He was smiling at her with his coffee stained teeth. She imagined if she were in a really deeper sleep, he probably would have slipped a hand in her jean shorts, lower if bold. She gave him a half-hearted smile, thinking, how much further. This was the way, wasn't it? Of course it had to be. All she had to do was keep quiet. They lasted this long with a few words here and there, what was a little more uncomfortable small talk? In the end, she honestly hated it. She hated this. Picking up the pieces, forced to move on. This time she was lucky but for how long? How long would she have to keep running? The pickup had a noticeable sputter to it every so often, like it might cut off altogether and it was then that his sonorous voice commented the usual "Everything's fine." She ignored him, grateful for the ride looking out the window as best she could. Outside of the single two-lane road were just fields of high grass with trees and by now some street lights followed by a green half-bent Putnam sign. Putnam, Montana thought, as her head turned slightly until she no longer saw the sign. At first, they were greeted by droves of orange groves on either side then a white rusty on the top water tower lit up partially by some lights. Different buildings popped into view. A closed steel mill, other smaller factories. The main road went through Putnam and over a train track where further down abandoned cars sat riddled with graffiti. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her exposed leg. Montana turned to him. "This is my stop, I can get out here." She moved his hand.
"I thought you said you wanted to go to the city?" Asked the driver.
"No," She lied. "I meant Putnam. Here is fine." He made a grunting sound in response. They crossed the tracks coming across a diner and a semi-full parking lot. "You can let me out here." Montana insisted. He seemed to be upset. Rather than stop, he kept going along the road where the lights flickered on and off. He then pulled off to the side and the pickup came to an abrupt stop. Montana hurriedly got out in the cool night about to reach for her suitcase that had been behind her seat. The man flippantly grabbed it and threw it outside on the ground where it opened, spilling her contents. "Hey!" She frowned. She took a step back as he slammed the passenger door and sped off leaving a cloud of exhaust. The woman uttered some curses looking around. There were a couple of stores nearby but they were closed and the diner was further back. "Asshole," She kneeled some shoving clothes back in. Afterwards, she started back to the diner in the dark of night. It was a welcome sight to see people still out and about by the time she reached and even more to see the open 24hrs handwritten notice hung up in the window. Somewhere to think for a second. The setback was only temporary. It would be fine. The little bell chimed when the door opened and a patron held it for her on their way out. "Thank you." She scurried inside, beat-up suitcase and all. She was greeted by a blast of cold air and several occupants scattered around the off orange seats, a few looking up from their meals to see her. A couple of the above lights flickered some and most of the inside was a beige color down to the linoleum tile flooring. Others sat on stools at the counter where a waitress chatted them up. The smell of food filled the entire place. Montana headed for a booth in the far corner near a window. She pushed her belongings under the table sitting. Everything would be fine, she told herself. It had to be. She tapped her fingers on the surface of the table thoughtfully. She then ran a hand through her hair. A minor setback with the potential to become something major if she didn't get a handle on everything. First thing's first. Reaching in her pocket, she retrieved a worn sizable coin purse which contained her driver's license and some folded up cash. Cautious eyes looked up and around to see if anyone was staring and when mostly everyone appeared preoccupied, she placed the bills on the table counting them. A hundred dollars. Why did it seem like more before? Her eyes raised when on cue, the bell on the door dinged when someone entered and left. The quaint establishment now had a group of men rolling in and causing a bit of disturbance with their rowdy voices.. They were heading to a corner of the diner far from others to have their own privacy. Among them, the leader trailed behind the others slowly. He wore faded blue jeans and a plain white shirt. His brown eyes flickered toward Montana and observed her from across the room. He had platinum blonde close cropped hair and an expressionless look. Immediately, Montana looked down, shoving her money away quickly. Something about it felt off and already she had encountered an asshole. She wasn't about to make it another one. Just how many people ran through this town? She would have to hitch a ride to the city somehow. Getting up, she grabbed her suitcase moving with such haste she ran into someone.
"Excuse me…" Montana muttered, not bothering to look at who it was. Her attention fell on the guy from before who was still staring at her even as he took a seat with his friends. It made her feel uneasy.
He was just that type of person. Tufts of greasy hair and a mutton chop beard, he wore faded coveralls, and had a poker face. Montana couldn't mistake the look in his beady eyes either when he pushed open the door for her to get in. She had seen it a thousand times. Well, maybe not to that level of exaggeration, but it was all the same. The stranger did her a favor by giving her a ride and in turn he wanted something only her mouth or elsewhere could give. No type of sincere exchange was given between them. As far as she was concerned, he wasn't getting anything. All she wanted to do was get to the city and be just another face in the crowd. The woman with the heart-shaped face bit her bottom lip taking a chance to look at the man. He was smiling at her with his coffee stained teeth. She imagined if she were in a really deeper sleep, he probably would have slipped a hand in her jean shorts, lower if bold. She gave him a half-hearted smile, thinking, how much further. This was the way, wasn't it? Of course it had to be. All she had to do was keep quiet. They lasted this long with a few words here and there, what was a little more uncomfortable small talk? In the end, she honestly hated it. She hated this. Picking up the pieces, forced to move on. This time she was lucky but for how long? How long would she have to keep running? The pickup had a noticeable sputter to it every so often, like it might cut off altogether and it was then that his sonorous voice commented the usual "Everything's fine." She ignored him, grateful for the ride looking out the window as best she could. Outside of the single two-lane road were just fields of high grass with trees and by now some street lights followed by a green half-bent Putnam sign. Putnam, Montana thought, as her head turned slightly until she no longer saw the sign. At first, they were greeted by droves of orange groves on either side then a white rusty on the top water tower lit up partially by some lights. Different buildings popped into view. A closed steel mill, other smaller factories. The main road went through Putnam and over a train track where further down abandoned cars sat riddled with graffiti. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her exposed leg. Montana turned to him. "This is my stop, I can get out here." She moved his hand.
"I thought you said you wanted to go to the city?" Asked the driver.
"No," She lied. "I meant Putnam. Here is fine." He made a grunting sound in response. They crossed the tracks coming across a diner and a semi-full parking lot. "You can let me out here." Montana insisted. He seemed to be upset. Rather than stop, he kept going along the road where the lights flickered on and off. He then pulled off to the side and the pickup came to an abrupt stop. Montana hurriedly got out in the cool night about to reach for her suitcase that had been behind her seat. The man flippantly grabbed it and threw it outside on the ground where it opened, spilling her contents. "Hey!" She frowned. She took a step back as he slammed the passenger door and sped off leaving a cloud of exhaust. The woman uttered some curses looking around. There were a couple of stores nearby but they were closed and the diner was further back. "Asshole," She kneeled some shoving clothes back in. Afterwards, she started back to the diner in the dark of night. It was a welcome sight to see people still out and about by the time she reached and even more to see the open 24hrs handwritten notice hung up in the window. Somewhere to think for a second. The setback was only temporary. It would be fine. The little bell chimed when the door opened and a patron held it for her on their way out. "Thank you." She scurried inside, beat-up suitcase and all. She was greeted by a blast of cold air and several occupants scattered around the off orange seats, a few looking up from their meals to see her. A couple of the above lights flickered some and most of the inside was a beige color down to the linoleum tile flooring. Others sat on stools at the counter where a waitress chatted them up. The smell of food filled the entire place. Montana headed for a booth in the far corner near a window. She pushed her belongings under the table sitting. Everything would be fine, she told herself. It had to be. She tapped her fingers on the surface of the table thoughtfully. She then ran a hand through her hair. A minor setback with the potential to become something major if she didn't get a handle on everything. First thing's first. Reaching in her pocket, she retrieved a worn sizable coin purse which contained her driver's license and some folded up cash. Cautious eyes looked up and around to see if anyone was staring and when mostly everyone appeared preoccupied, she placed the bills on the table counting them. A hundred dollars. Why did it seem like more before? Her eyes raised when on cue, the bell on the door dinged when someone entered and left. The quaint establishment now had a group of men rolling in and causing a bit of disturbance with their rowdy voices.. They were heading to a corner of the diner far from others to have their own privacy. Among them, the leader trailed behind the others slowly. He wore faded blue jeans and a plain white shirt. His brown eyes flickered toward Montana and observed her from across the room. He had platinum blonde close cropped hair and an expressionless look. Immediately, Montana looked down, shoving her money away quickly. Something about it felt off and already she had encountered an asshole. She wasn't about to make it another one. Just how many people ran through this town? She would have to hitch a ride to the city somehow. Getting up, she grabbed her suitcase moving with such haste she ran into someone.
"Excuse me…" Montana muttered, not bothering to look at who it was. Her attention fell on the guy from before who was still staring at her even as he took a seat with his friends. It made her feel uneasy.
