by Mike Mulhern

Created on: May 29, 2008

The semi zoomed by Jack's outstretched thumb, horn blaring. Jack whirled away from the flying dust and coughed as the truck rumbled away. He sighed and loped back over to the old, droopy oak tree and plopped down in the same place he'd been sitting for the past two hours.

He wasn't supposed to be out here anyway. His parents made him take this stinkin' summer job at Mr. Schneider's farm, he sure hadn't wanted to. And it was all the way in the next county, how ridiculous was that!

He usually got a ride home with the other farmhands who lived near him, but when Mr. Schneider let them go for the day... well, they'd started ragging him again. Mike was always the instigator. "Hey Jack, how's your boyfriend? You got a date with him tonight? Jack, what color panties are you wearing? They're pink, aren't they?"

Same stuff as always, but they still fell all over themselves laughing. And Jack seethed. It's the curse of being the young, quiet kid of the group - you're always taking crap. Just because you didn't have a girlfriend. Never had a girlfriend, actually. Well Jack had had enough. No way was he getting in Mike's car today. Instead he just slammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and walked right on past. "Aww Jackie, don't cry like a little girl! C'mon back, crybaby! Oh forget it, just let him go."

So he went. And now here he was stuck hitching a ride on the lonely old Atlanta Highway as the sun went down.

Jack took a flask out of his hip pocket and took a swig. He wasn't supposed to have it, but what his folks didn't know wouldn't hurt them, right? His parents were too damn strict anyway. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree, irritated again at the knot that bulged out against his neck. He sighed again. He'd never get a ride home at this rate.

Suddenly Jack's eyes snapped open. Was that the sound of rock music he heard? Sure enough, the music got louder and a car's headlights appeared. He jumped up, walked back to the side of the road and waited.

When the car approached, Jack didn't even think to stick out his thumb, he just gaped at what cruised to a stop next to him. It was more like a boat than a car, a bright white Chrysler, jam-packed with gorgeous ladies all singing along to the tune on the radio and shrieking with delight. The driver was a large balding man in a Hawaiian shirt. He gave Jack a grin. "Hop aboard, son. We're about to set sail!"

"Um... are you going to Jackson County?"

"Not exactly, my boy. We're headin' on down to

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