“No,” the blonde looked up from under the car bonnet, “I’m just giving the engine some fresh air. Why do you think I called you?”
The mechanic’s lips twisted in a facial shrug. He remembered his training about customer service. “I’m sorry,” he smiled. “It was a stupid question. Let’s have a look-see.”
The young woman stepped aside and twirled her long hair while the mechanic peered into the car.
“It just sort of conked out,” the woman said. “It was all I could do to pull over to the side.”
“You picked a great spot,” the mechanic looked up and down the deserted road in both directions and the flat, featureless landscape. “You were lucky to get phone signal.”
“Yeah, that’s me: the lucky one. Can you fix it?”
The mechanic sucked in air through his teeth.
“Yes, I should think so, but the bad news is I can’t do it here. Going to have to tow you into town. But that’s a couple of hours away.”
“Oh, really?” the woman was dismayed. “I haven’t got time. I have to be somewhere.”
“Well, I could try to patch it up, I suppose. And then I could follow you for a while to see that it’s ok.”
“But…” the mechanic looked into her eyes, “what’s in it for me?”
“What do you mean? I pay my subscription. You’re supposed to fix my car.”
“I mean for me personally.” He licked his upper lip. The blonde shuddered.
“Oh, all right then,” she rolled her eyes. “But not out here. In the cab of your truck.”
“Worried somebody might see?” the mechanic laughed and opened the door. The blonde got in first. The mechanic couldn’t believe his luck. He winked at the bobble-headed Jesus on his dashboard.
A short while later, the blonde was driving along. She wiped the blood from her chin and licked her hand clean. That had been so easy, and her new tow-truck was surprisingly easy to handle too.
Perhaps she would happen across a traveller in need of assistance at the side of this long and empty road.
She winked at the bobble-headed Jesus. She really was the lucky one.