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Ruthenium

James Bates

    Kirk sidled up to the café counter and plopped himself down on the stool. He took off his old baseball cap, wiped his forehead and put the cap back on. In the background music from the fifties was playing, the Everly Brothers, he thought, and the aroma of fried eggs assaulted his senses, making his stomach rumble. The air-conditioning was almost too cold, but that was okay. It was like an oven outside.
    He turned to the woman sitting next to him one stool over. She was about his age, twenty-five, with a plump figure. Her dirty blond hair was braided down the back and kept in place with a faded red bandana. She wore a blue plaid, snap button cowboy shirt tucked into black jeans which were stuffed into brown cowboy boots. Every item of her clothing had seen better days.
    “Hi,” he said, picking up a menu and nervously playing with it. “Hot enough out there for you?” A tired line, he knew, but what the hell. The fact of the matter was that it was hot out there in the boondocks of central Nebraska. Easily one-hundred and ten degrees, maybe more. And that wasn’t counting the humidity which made it seem like a sauna. Or what he imagined one to be like. He’d only heard about them, never been in one.
    Since she apparently wasn’t going to answer, he casually rested his head on his right shoulder, the one opposite the woman, and took a quick sniff, then returned to his menu, grateful he didn’t stink. Not too bad, anyway.

***


    After she felt she’d waited long enough, Sandy turned from looking at her menu and glanced at the hundred miles of bad road that just sat down next to her. She quickly sized up the heavy-set dude sniffing himself as loser: scraggly beard, long dark hair under a ratty baseball cap, dirty jeans, scuffed work boots and a faded red flannel shirt. Her first thought was, I wonder if I can get any money off him? She was nearly broke and had just enough for this last meal, so that was a concern. Her second thought was more to the point, He’s got a weird accent. What if he’s some nutcase fruitcake and tries something? She smiled, thinking about the razor-sharp four-inch Kershaw knife in her back pocket and didn’t have to think about it too long. The answer was easy; he’d be toast if he tried anything, just like her boyfriend three days ago in Cheyenne. Make that ex-boyfriend. She was done with him for good, even though he’d threatened to track her, as he put it, “To the end of the earth.”
    “Just try it,” she had responded, as she had slashed his hand when he’d tried to grab her. The blood had poured from the wound as he screamed that he’d kill her. “Fat chance,” she had yelled and took off running. She’d been on the run ever since.
    Three days ago seemed like a lifetime. A bus ride had gotten her this far, but now she needed money. And food. She turned to the guy sitting next to her and flashed her best smile, “Yeah, it’s hot all right. Hotter than a pistol as my uncle used to say.”
    Surprised she hadn’t dismissed him like women usually did, Kirk grinned in return, “Yeah, my grandma used to say ‘hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July.’” He put out his hand, “Hi. I’m Kirk.”
    After pausing only a moment, just to keep him from getting too confident, she shook it, “Hi. I’m Sandy.”
    Kirk pointed to her menu, “You ordered yet?”
    She went back to looking, “Naw. I’m still deciding.” Deciding how far I can stretch two dollars and forty-four cents was more like it, she thought to herself.
    Kirk took a chance, “I’ll tell you what. You order what you want, and I’ll pay for it.”
    Success! She turned and put her hand on his arm, holding it there for just a moment longer than necessary before removing it, “You don’t have to do that.”
    Kirk wished his ears didn’t feel like they were turning red, but they were. He cleared his throat, “That’s okay. I want to. Really.”
    Sandy pursed her lips together pretending to be thinking about it.
    Nervously, he added, “No strings attached. Seriously.” She looked at him, and it was then Kirk noticed how pretty her eyes were. Dark brown. Like paint. He held up his right hand and added, “Scout’s honor.”
    Sandy had to force herself not to laugh out loud. This guy was too much. At least he seemed harmless. But he was a guy, nevertheless, and her experience with guys told her that time would tell whether or not he could be trusted. For now, though, she felt safe with him.
    “Well, in that case, Mister Boy Scout,” she moved to the vacant seat next to him, “what I have to say is this: Okay.”
    “Great,” Kirk grinned, and fought an urge to wipe his forehead again. “That’s just great.”
    A waitress had been serving other customers while watching the two of them out of the corner of her eye. Sensing they were ready to order, she came over and said to Sandy, “What’ll you have, hon?”
    The thought of food made Sandy’s stomach growl, but she didn’t care, “I’ll have pancakes, sausages, three eggs over easy and orange juice and coffee. Toast, too, please.”
    Kirk listened and his mouth began watering, “Man, that all sounds great to me. I’ll have the same. One check.”
    The waitress nodded, popped her gum and said, “Okay guys. Sounds good. It’ll be about ten minutes.”
    She returned a minute later with water which they both drank thirstily. When they finished, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The waitress came by again with their juice and coffee and refilled their water. They drank the juice and sipped their coffee slowly, not saying anything, other than Kirk mentioning once, “This coffee tastes good,” and Sandy replying, “Yeah, it does.”
    In the meantime, Kirk busied himself folding and unfolding a paper napkin and Sandy cleaned her fingernails with a toothpick.
    When their meals arrived, though, the food seemed to dissolve the wall of silence between them.
    “So, where’re you from?” Sandy asked as she poured maple syrup over her pancakes and dug in. Despite not talking much, Kirk’s accent was noticeable. “You can’t be from around here.”
    “No, I’m not,” he chuckled, covering his cakes with eight pats of butter before dumping on the syrup. Sandy was impressed. She liked a guy who loved to eat and it was apparent Kirk knew his way around a big meal.
    “I’m from Canada,” he told her, savoring his first bite. “I’ve been on the road for six days, now.” He pointed over his shoulder to the parking lot outside the huge windows. “I’m driving my pickup.” He shoveled another forkful in his mouth, chewed ecstatically, swallowed and then looked at Sandy, “Sorry, about the way I’m eating, but I’ve been camping along the Platte River and haven’t had a decent meal in a day or so.”
    Sandy shrugged her shoulders and said, “Doesn’t bother me.” Then went back to her meal, cutting into the sausages this time. “So, Canada?”
    “Yeah. I’m from Sudbury,” Kirk continued. “I’m a heavy equipment mechanic and help maintain the vehicles there at the local mine there.”
    “Diamonds or something?”
    Kirk laughed, almost choked and took a gulp of water. When he got control of himself, he said, “No. I wish, but no. We mine ruthenium. It’s a rare element they used to use in microchips.”
    “Never heard of it.”
    “No one has. But the point is the mine is a big deal in Sudbury and employs a lot of people. Most of the ruthenium comes from Africa and the Ural Mountains, but the stuff we mine these days is being used to make low-cost solar panels.” He looked at her and smiled, “Boring you yet?”
    Sandy grinned, “Hey, as long as you’re buying, I’m listening. She went back to eating.
    Kirk took that as a ‘probably’ but went on anyway, “I’ve worked there for eight years and I’m on my two-week vacation, traveling and seeing the country.” He laughed and pointed out the window. “Never been here before, and I probably won’t be coming back either.”
    “So, you are camping?”
    “Yeah, a few miles down the road. There’s a little campground on the Platte. It’s cheap and helped save some money.” Kirk ate up the rest of his pancakes before starting on his sausage and eggs. “How about you? Where’re you headed?”
    By now Sandy had finished her meal and was sipping her coffee. She liked listening to Kirk talk. Liked his accent. He seemed like a harmless guy. But he was a guy, regardless, so she’d never tell him about her ex-boyfriend creep in Cheyenne. The guy who regularly hit her and occasionally pimped her out to his friends. The guy who once beat her so badly she had a miscarriage. The guy who she’d stabbed in the parking lot of the big box store three days ago when he’d smacked for forgetting to buy him cigarettes. The guy she was afraid was looking for her right now.
    Instead, she smiled and said, “Oh, you know, just traveling.”
    “Where you from?”
    “Up north. Near Cheyenne.”
    “You all by yourself?”
    “Yeah. I’m traveling by bus and on my way to see my sister in Texas.”
    Kirk listened and thought, there’s something not right here. “Where’s the bus?”
    “Oh, it had engine trouble,” Sandy said, recovering quickly. In spite of the air-conditioning, she started to perspire. “I’m waiting for a replacement.”
    “Where are the other passengers?”
    She turned on her stool and motioned, “Oh, they’re around.” And as she turned, she happened to glance out to the parking lot, “Oh, my, god!”
    “What?” Kirk turned to look.
    Sandy pointed. “See that red Camaro? The shaved headed guy next to it?”
    “Yeah. So?”
    “I know that guy. He’s no good.” It was her ex and there was no doubt in her mind he was looking for her. Then she gasped as two of his friends got out and stood next to him, their greasy hair blowing in the hot wind. This was big trouble. She jumped off her stool. “I’ve gotta’ get out of here.”
    Kirk stood with her. “Hold on a minute. What’s going on?”
    “He’s my ex-boyfriend and he’s a creepy jerk.” Sandy quickly told him about the beatings and the miscarriage. She even told him about the knifing. “Yeah, I slashed his hand, made him bleed and took off. That was three days ago.” She looked at Kirk, hoping he believed her. “I hid out around Cheyenne and then used most of my money to get out of town. I caught a bus. That’s how I got here.” She touched his arm and pleaded, “It’s the truth. I swear it.”
    Kirk wanted to believe her. He looked outside. The ex was a big guy, bigger than him. He had a long beard and wore a blue jean jacket with the sleeves cut off. A huge beer gut flapped over his belt and tattoos covered his arms. A thick bandage was wrapped around his right hand. He spat out a stream of tobacco juice as he and his two buddies adjusted their sunglasses and began sauntering toward the door.
    To Kirk they looked like trouble with a capital “T”. He made his decision and gently took Sandy’s arm.
    She shook him off, “Hey! What are you doing?”
    He couldn’t help what he was doing, yet alone feeling, all he knew was he wanted to help her. Maybe it was because she talked to him and most women didn’t. Maybe because he was lonely and never had a girlfriend before. Maybe just to be nice. Whatever the reason, he really didn’t care. He just knew he had to do something. “Let’s get you out of the way and hide” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. “I’ll take care of your ex.”
    “Okay. What’s your plan?” Sandy decided she might as well take a chance with Kirk, after all, she really didn’t have much of a choice.
    He led the way to the back of the restaurant and pointed to the women’s room. “You hide in there,” he said, touching her arm gently in a gesture of affection. “I’ll come and get you when the coast is clear.”
    Against her best instincts, Sandy decided to trust him. She gave him a quick hug and said, simply, “Thanks.”
    Kirk waited for the door to close and then went back to the counter. He sat down and sipped his now cold coffee. The waitress stopped by, “You guys all finished?”
    “With eating, yes.” Kirk said, watching the ex. He and his buddies were settled in a booth behind him along the windows, glancing around the restaurant. They were definitely looking for Sandy. “But, could I have some more coffee, please?”
    “Sure thing.” She gathered up the plates. “The little lady coming back?”
    Kirk glanced to the rear of the restaurant and then to her. “Yeah, in a little bit.”
    The waitress winked at him. “Take your time, hon.”
    “Thanks,” Kirk said, glancing over his shoulder at the three guys. “I will.”
    He sipped coffee and kept an eye on the ex and his buddies who woofed down their food like hungry animals. There was a moment of panic when the three of them got up and went toward the back of the restaurant. He quickly followed, but the guys were just using the restroom. Kirk paged through a magazine from a nearby rack until they came out. But instead of going to their booth they went up to the cash register. Kirk watched in horror as the ex took a crumpled photo out of his back pocket and showed it to the waitress. She looked at it and a worried expression crossed her face. She glanced at Kirk who caught her eye and slowly shook his head no. She turned to the ex said something he couldn’t hear, then shook her head in the negative.
    Relieved, Kirk watched as the three guys paid their bill and left. As they walked out the door, he hurried over to the waitress and said, “Thank you so much.”
    She smiled at him. “Anytime, hon. Those guys look like trouble.”
    “They are.”
    He turned and watched through the window as the three of them got in their car and drove off down the interstate heading west. When the car was out of sight, he hurried to the women’s room and knocked on the door. “Hey, Sandy. It’s me, Kirk. It’s safe, now. You can come out. They’re gone.”
    Sandy opened the door, wiping her face. Tears of joy, fear or relief, it was hard to tell, ran down her face. She threw her arms around him and said, “Thank you.”
    They went to the counter where Kirk paid for their meals and left a generous tip. The waitress smiled at them and said, “You two guys take care.”
    “We will,” Sandy said.
    Kirk added, “And thanks for everything.”
    She waved them good-bye, “No problem. Be safe.”
    Outside, it was even hotter than before, like standing in a blast furnace. The sun was white. The wind blew dust devils across the parking lot. Leaves on the cottonwood trees along the Platte River were coated with a thin layer of grit that gave them a ghostly appearance. A quarter of a mile away on the interstate semi-trucks roared by as if blown by the wind.
    They stood in the shade of the overhang above the entrance. Kirk pointed and said, “That’s my truck. That one over there.”
    Sandy looked and saw a beat up old white Ford. “Nice.” It was all she could say, thinking this is make it or break it time. Now what? She had a few options, none of them good.
    Kirk pointed toward the restaurant, “Say, about back there. That guy is obviously still looking for you. What are you going to do now?”
    She didn’t know. What she really wanted was to get as far away from her ex as possible, find a job and start to live a normal life. She wondered if she could tell Kirk that. After all, he’d already saved her once.
    Kirk pointed to the west and said, “He took off that way.”
    “Yeah, he probably thinks I’m going to California. I told him a million times I wanted to go there.”
    “Seriously? Do you?”
    “Not really.”
    Kirk was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Ever thought about going to Canada?”
    Sandy looked at him. Did she trust this guy? She thought about for a minute and all she could come up with was this: maybe she did. After all, he had helped her just now in the restaurant. Maybe this was the chance she’d been waiting for, a chance at a new beginning. Maybe... A vision came into her mind of living in a quaint little house with a flower garden and a pet. Maybe a dog. She liked the scene. “What, drive up there with you?” she smiled, joking with him.
    Kirk laughed, “Yeah, with me. I could see about getting you a job at the mine.”
    Sandy saw her home with lace curtains billowing in a summer breeze, and a tidy little kitchen where she could cook scrumptious meals. Maybe even for Kirk. For the two of them.
    She turned to him. “I don’t have a passport.”
    Kirk grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
    Sandy’s knees almost gave way with relief, and she steadied herself by grabbing Kirk’s shoulder. She affectionally squeezed his arm, “Well, then, in that case what I have to say is this: Okay.”
    Kirk smiled in return. “All right.” He turned away, took a deep breath and let it out. Why was he so nervous? He liked her. He was drawn to wanting to help her out. Offering to take her to Canada seemed like the right thing to do. Right? Well, there was only one way to find out. “Okay, then,” he said starting toward the Ford. “Let’s hit the road and go to Canada.”
    Sandy grabbed his arm and stopped him, “You sure? I could be a weirdo you know.”
    Kirk, grinned, “Yeah, I know. I could be one too.”
    “Two weirdos? That works for me.”
    Kirk laughed, “Me, too.”
    Sandy smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Okay, then. Let’s go to Canada.”



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