A Hitch in Time

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

I stalked out the side door of the station and crossed over the street to the eastbound side. It was busy enough and yet out of the way. My folks had to go the other direction. I leaned up against a lamppost, pasted on a happy and innocent smile, and stuck out my thumb. This was going to be a cinch.

I wondered what I looked like, if I would scare people or look like I was muggable. I tried different facial expressions, laughing at myself. Then I wondered how much to talk to them. Would they rather just concentrate on their driving or was I supposed to supply entertainment?

I could talk, I’ll give you that. My mother is Irish. My father is Welsh. My name is—hold on—Shenandoah Morgan. I go by Shen or Shane, however people hear it; I don’t care. Apparently it sort of means I’m a piece of good land near the sea, but I will never tell a living soul that. I think they were both drunk when they named me. Can’t you just hear my dad calling me for supper, when I was out playing down the road with my pals?

“Shenandoah Tristyn Morgan!”

My friends lived for that moment, the bastards.