Phoenix II

“What happened to your face?” The gas station attendant asked. He was a young and skinny man with more pimples than freckles, and damn… did he have lots of freckles. 

“Isn’t that rude to ask?” I said back to him as I planted my change on the counter, quarter now included after some underseat fishing. 

He shrugged, his red work shirt wrinkled and waved as he moved. The fabric hung from his skeletal shoulders like drapes over a stage. “Is it?” He replied, grinning through his braces. 

I took a step back pointing to the coins he scooted closer to him. “I don’t know, is it?” I thought hard to myself, my irritation diminishing. 

Why was it rude? 

Maybe he’s showing concern for me? 

Or less than that, just wondering.

“You know you are right.” I said. “A young-man such as yourself should be encouraged for this curiosity. I assume you want to make sure I'm alright?”

He shrugged again, he rubbed his peach fuzz. “I’m thirty two by the way.”

“Oh. Then yeah, it’s rude. But I'll let it slide. Who cares. Run that change and then the rest on this car, please.” I slid the credit card to him. I took a deep breath weighing my words, and when that failed I just spat the first that came to mind. “I got this in a home invasion. He killed my wife. I… Uh. Want to kill him. Pump 8.” Praying I wouldn’t hit my limit. 

“Hmm,” He sighed. “I think I heard about that. Police didn’t get him huh?” He ate a redvine that he seemingly pulled from nowhere. There were no other patrons in this outland gas station. Only the rainbow assortment of packaged confections and cold hum of the freezers to keep the attendant company. No wonder he was curious, he was bored out of his mind. This was a way station for lost souls and I'm sure my story isn’t even the craziest one he heard this week.

I waved my hand at his question. “No help, there. They are useless, they think I'm interfering with them when I call them up with more details I remember. Say I’m not reliable because of my state of being.” I motioned to my still swollen face. “So dismissive.” He handed me a redvine which I snapped down on. “Thanks.” I added. I looked around. “I need an ATM.” I said through my red stained teeth.  

He pointed behind me. 

There the machine was. Like a magician he had made it appear. Obviously not… I just didn’t look hard enough. But I still did a double take. Was it there before? The ATM was a narrow thing that was sure to charge me five dollars for a withdrawal. The plastic on it was painted to look like metal. The screen was so sunstained I could barely see the options. How did I miss that? My fatass probably went right over it on entering this place, drawn into this willy wonka land of big corporations peddling diabetes. No worry, it seemed that this gas station had all the answers I needed. Who knew? 

Well not all the answers I still didn’t exactly know where I was going… 

The attendant snapped his fingers. “Hey,” He said as walked over to the TV mounted in the corner of the room. “You said he broke in, right? Maybe I did see that story on the news.” He used his lengthy arms to flip the channel from a daytime cartoon to a state news channel.

Shown on the outdated screen was a dusty landscape with wide property and small houses. It was a wide-shot seemingly from a circling helicopter whose shadow could be seen hovering around the perimeter of the overgrown yard below. The logo of the news was in the corner and I heard some woman talking over it:

“... was a veteran of the Vietnam war. Neighbors said they did not know him well but hope he pulls through.”
I was more interested in the headline. It read: 

TWO KILLED AND ONE WOUNDED IN DEADLY HOME INVASION. 

It flipped back to the news anchors. One was a brunette woman wearing a blazer the other an older man with hair greased back showing his hair plugs. He spoke first. “That is just terrifying. We hope for a speedy recovery to the man that had to go through that. Coming up we will talk about how to prevent one of these home invasions that are seemingly sweeping the state.”

“Are you the next target?” The woman asked the audience with a stern face. “Will your family be bru…” I grabbed the remote off the counter and switched it off. The attendant looked over his shoulder. 

“Was that where I think it was?” I asked. 

“Yeah.” He said. “Not far.”

I pulled out three hundred dollars from the ATM and looked back at the attendant. He was waving a bag of red vines at me. “What's this?” I asked while cautiously approaching this wizard of the waystation. He handed me the bright red bag. Like the stain on my carpet before it dried.

“On account of your dead wife.” He said. I pulled back with the bag. My stomach was swirling into a knot, He said it so matter of factly. Those words terrified me. I rumpled the candy under my hands, She loves red vines… Loved.    

“What is this place?” I asked, one hand opening the glass door. The bell above me rang out. It made me jump. He just shrugged. “Sonoran 6. But...” He grumbled and shrugged once more. “Lots of people find it’s the place they need to come across.”

“I was so sure about all this…” I looked at my car, engine on, fighting against the baking heat. It was full of supplies… a gun, a suicide box, an accomplice with four legs. 

I can’t even open that box. I’m a coward, remember? What am I doing?

“She wouldn’t want me to do all this. Now I feel weird about everything.” I said back to him.

His back was to me as he had flipped back to his cartoon and was giggling to himself snapping up red vines and chewing disgustingly.  

Well. Okay. Nevermind. 

I walked out, sweat sticking to me immediately, and I started filling up my tank while I turned over thoughts in my head. Weighing up options. Thinking long and hard. Chewy barked at me from inside, clawing at the half cocked windows. He stuck his nose into the gap. Breathing deep the gas smell. 

He loves that smell… what an odd dog.

The pump popped off. That made me jump too. But something also clicked in me as well. All doubts vanished now that I had a full tank. I didn’t even care. I pressed the wrong fuel grade and my tank cost me twenty nine dollars instead of twenty. 

You see… This ‘Tim’ had killed more folks. I knew it. I saw it in his eyes and devil's smile. I knew he was going to kill more still. I was the only one that seemed to care, the only one that could spot him if we crossed again. The one who could stop him. Maybe it was fate that I come across this station at the perfect time. Something was pushing me towards him. Something. I knew it in my being. And I didn’t care about what my wife wanted. 

After all, I had to keep reminding myself that she was dead. With no worries to bother her anymore. It was I who wanted revenge. I wanted it and I would have it. Now the world was telling me just how righteous I was. Directing me there. I had stopped here for a reason. I had seen this for a reason. I hopped into my car, batted Chewy away as he licked my cheek and nose. I floored it out of that gas station. The broken down sign of the Sonoran 6 faded behind me quickly like a mirage. I was off on my next stop.

Maybe I was going to hell after all.

“Worse,” I told Chewy. “We’re going to Tucson.”