3: A Place Called Chance (3)
562 Words
"Artie was right about the weather.”Fatty squinted through sheets of rain, trying to see the road ahead. He drove by cars pulled off to the side of the road, waiting for the storm to pass. "I haven't been to the lake forever, but I don't recognize a thing. I must be lost again.”
He spotted a roadside restaurant and parked in front of it. "Maybe someone inside can give me directions.”
Even though he was out in the rain for only half a minute, Fatty was drenched when he entered the restaurant. "Excuse me, I'd like some coffee to go,”he told the cashier. "Say, can you tell me how to get to the lake?”
The cashier blew a bubble and popped it with a bright red finger nail. "You're way off, mister." She drew a map on a napkin. "See, we're here.”She pointed to the X, and then drew over the lines as she continued to talk. “Just turn right onto the highway, drive for about half an hour, and turn right. You can't miss it.”
Fatty took the napkin and stuffed it into his coat pocket.
"And here's your coffee.”
"Thanks." He paid the cashier. "For the coffee and the directions.”
Fatty's coat was dripping rain when he got back into his car. The napkin was soggy, and the ink ran every which way. "This map is useless.”He drove to the highway. "Which way did she say to go, left or right? I think she said this way.”
Fatty turned left onto the highway. The road was barely visible in the rain, and the windshield wipers didn't help. "How far did she say I should drive before I turn?”He took a sip of coffee. Oh well, I'll just turn on the first road I come to.”
He drove for about an hour, until the road forked. "I don't remember her saying anything about the road splitting.”He veered to the right.
The wind blew the rain straight at his windshield.“I can't see a thing.”But he heard something, a clanking and dragging. "Oh, good grief. I must have run over something.”
It was a struggle to open the car door against the wind. Fatty finally got out and walked around to the rear of his car. He stooped down to get a better look. "Great. Looks like a chain got tangled up in my undercarriage,”he muttered. "And what's this?”He pulled the chain. A metal corner emerged from the mud and water. He pulled harder. It was a sign. He rubbed the mud off as best he could. He could see the letters C-H-A.
"Not Chance! What are the chances of…" Fatty's eyes opened wide. He put both hands to his chest. Then he collapsed face first into the mud.
=
An ambulance pulled up about half an hour later. The paramedics turned him over, and the shorter one checked his pulse. "Too late, Joe. He's dead. Told you so.”
They hoisted Fatty onto the stretcher.
Joe wiped the mascara dripping down Nate's cheeks with his permanently stained fingers. Then he looked down at the ground. "Look, Nate. The darn sign blew off again. I'll let the town council know.”
- Writer
