Dead Battery

“Can someone help me? My car won’t turn over.” I directed at the clerk behind the counter.

“We can but it will be a while. Our workshop guy is out towing a car. Should be back in about an hour or two.”

I looked around at the seating options. The only available seats were some booths in the closed Subway shop in the back of Loves. A homeless man was already occupying the last with his stuff. A woman and her child were hunched over staring into space in the front. That left the two open in the middle. I turned to the clerk and let her know I’d be in my car until he came back. She just shrugged and paged the on-call tow guy about someone waiting for a jump.

Settled into the driver's seat, I tucked myself into a blanket and propped up against a pillow. I set a timer for 45 minutes and then drifted off to sleep. The timer went off. I sat up for a moment to see if he'd returned, but I didn’t see a tow truck, so I reset the 45 minutes and closed my eyes. A few minutes later someone knocked on my window. A manager from inside.

“You shouldn’t be sleeping out here without some heat. It’s dipping below 30 degrees.”

“My battery is dead, and I cannot sleep in there.”

“That’s fair, but you shouldn’t be out here. My guy should be here soon.” Then he walked away. I was freezing, but I was also afraid to go back inside.

About 30 minutes later I could hear the rumbling of a beaten-up tower coming up the drive. Finally. I watched the man hop out of his truck and walk towards the shop that was just slightly hidden behind Loves. It took the tow-guy some time before he emerged from the back with a machine. He rolled it over to the car. I got out to greet him.

“How long have you been down?”

“An hour, almost two. I had a hard time turning it over this morning, and a few times throughout the day, but now she’s just not doing anything.”

“What were you doing each time?”

“Leaving? I don’t know. I'm coming from Tennessee and am on my way to Arizona, so stopping for gas, I guess.

“She’s giving me a hard time. I don’t have any batteries here. If I can get her to turnover, I would suggest not turning off the car until you’re in a place where you have access to a battery. It doesn’t help that it’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“What about when I get gas? I must stop at least three more times before I get home.”

“Then don’t. Don’t turn it off.”

The tow-guy gave me a displeased look and then one of relief when she finally started. I offered him the $20 I had available in my pocket, but he refused it.

I finally reached the beginning of New Mexico and was starting to feel worn out. I could hardly keep my eyes open. I pulled off the road for Route 66 gas station. I knew this stop all too well from the many trips I’ve made on this route. It is abandoned, and mostly unknown.

There was still a working light pole in the center of the lot. I parked under it to ensure I could see my surroundings. I set myself up against the door with my pillow and my blanket. Left the car on and set my timer.

When I got up, I didn’t wake up to my timer. Instead, an awful feeling. I grabbed my phone and checked to see that I had 12 minutes left and stuffed it in my jacket pocket. When I adjusted myself, I noticed that my car was no longer on. It had died. But that wasn’t the worst part.

I pulled my phone back out, getting ready to dial the nearest Loves, but now my phone was dead. I threw it down on the floor of the passenger side, angerly hitting the steering wheel. When I broke from my freakout, I froze- how long has that been there? I stared out of my passenger window, studying the white unmarked van parked suspiciously close. An old man was watching me. A small circle of fog covered his mouth on the window.

Oh Fudge.

Franticly fiddling with my car keys, I try turning over the car. Nothing. I started pleading, begging to the heavens. There was no clicking now, which means dead dead, and in a few minutes so will I. I turned back to look at the old man who now wasn’t in his van. I turned around, looking out to see if I could spot him but there was nothing. I turned back to my steering wheel, pounding and smacking on the rim. “Start damnit!”

Just then she started up and in reverse I went, not even thinking about if he was behind me. No human speed bumps. A good sign.

When I pulled out of the lot and on to the main road, I looked into my rearview mirror and was shocked to see that there wasn’t anything there. No old man. No white van.

I drove off in complete silence, telling myself that I will never stop off here or anywhere alone, or in the middle of nowhere, ever again.