Lucky

I closed my eyes for a second, the droning buzz of the dusty air conditioners overhead lulling me to sleep. Sinking back into the faded cushions of my driver's seat, I relaxed for a second, hardly thinking, and let the pounding sun cover me like a welcome blanket. Then I curled up, coughing and grimacing, and straightened again in the seat. Around me, cacti poked out of the sand, angry needles breaking the monotony of the landscape. A few houses were scattered around the vicinity, each painted a different color of the surrounding landscape - reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. That was all I could see, everywhere... just the continuation of wherever I had come from last. I looked down at my cracked hands, long accustomed to grasping the wheel of my truck, and placed them on my denim-covered thighs. With a sigh and another slight cough, I started up the truck and continued on.

Every so often, I would press a little button, and the bulky camera mounted on top of the vehicle's roof would take a picture. I'd long since mastered the art of driving with merely a few fingers, and sometimes I would even drive with little touches from my forearms. Driving the 'picture car,' as my young niece called it, was not a particularly fulfilling job. But, it reminded me of my dream, the dream that now sank down into my vase of possibilities and never hoped of floating to the top. Ever since I had been 3, I'd wanted to be a race car driver. Seeing the hallmark flag go down, speeding down that black track, the smell of rubber burning in my nose, the wheel responding to every minute touch, the wind blasting past me as I shot forward, the crazy crowds screaming themselves hoarse as they cheered, meeting a beautiful girl after the race who loved me and adored my fame... I was snatched out of my daydream as another car honked at me. I pulled over to the side of the road and got out, leaving my car door open.

The dust and sand coated everything, including the hardly-red pickup that aggressively tailed me, and especially the mustachioed man who got out of it. "Hey! You got a problem with me?" he yelled, his voice carrying clearly despite the constant and gritty wind.

"No, sir, no." I responded quickly. I knew this type of man, and he wouldn't accept any type of threat to his 'alpha male' shtick.

"Don't you 'sir' me, boy," he retorted. He kept on walking menacingly towards me, and I retreated back to my car. His shirt billowed in the wind, the bright blue standing out against the rest of the landscape.

"Hey, I'm not looking for any trouble, man." I said, holding my hands up to placate him. I looked up, as if praying to God, but all I could notice were the wispy white desert clouds. Hardly a puff, but I hadn't seen clouds for a while. Interesting that the clouds showed up now. Distracted, I watched a little bird flutter across my vision, flapping its wings and then momentarily stopping like it had forgotten where it was trying to go.

Footsteps echoed in my ears, but I had hardly lowered my head before the man wound up his arm and socked me right in the nose. "OW!" I howled in pain. Holding my bleeding nose, I stumbled towards the man, blurrily seeing his mustachio raise as he grinned. The man sprinted towards my truck and got into the open car door. I cursed out loud, but it did nothing to deter the swindler as he drove off, cackling with glee. I ran to his red pickup, but the doors and windows were locked. I cursed again and banged against the metal, sliding down to the ground.

"HEY!" Another voice cut through the air, and I could practically hear the scowl on the face of whoever the voice belonged to. I whipped around, my left hand still trying to block the steady trickle of blood spurting from my nose. I nearly rolled my eyes, half astounded at my shockingly back luck, half just accepting my horrible situation.

"What." I snapped sharply.

"Why're you bangin' on Doc's truck, huh?" The man said, a faint smile playing on his face. He was a lanky fellow, hair combed back neatly, but with a cruel note in his eye. Behind him trailed two other men, who both looked to be brothers to the man addressing me.

"He stole my truck." I spat. "He drove away with it." I took my hand off my nose and smeared the blood all over the red truck, Doc's truck, I assumed. I smiled, wincing as my nose scrunched up.

The man and his brothers' expressions immediately dropped. "Take your filthy hands off his truck," one of the brothers threatened, a low voice enough to scare any non-believer into fearing ghosts. I imagined him quite the thug. I just laughed, a delirious and high-pitched hyena of a laugh, and kept doing so until one of them knocked me against the truck and my vision closed up into darkness.

I woke up in a dusty garage and saw my truck a few feet away. Getting to my feet, I was about to shuffle towards it when a booted foot slammed my tired body back down and held me, squirming, in place. "He's awake!" a man yelled. I hadn't seen him before, but I guessed he was yet another man reveling in my impending demise. Doc and the three brothers stalked in through a door, all holding beers. A shadow of a woman walked forward as well, until Doc looked back and muttered something unintelligibly. The shadow receded and Doc came forward to me. His bristly mustache leaned in, the smell of alcohol acting as his pungent perfume. He clicked his tongue and smirked victoriously. "You ain't a fighter, huh?" he remarked, the odious smirk still plastered to his face.

They'd made three mistakes. Mistake #1: My hands weren't bound. I grabbed his face, shoving it into the crook of my arm, and tore the beer bottle from his hand. I smashed it against the wall behind me and pressed its serrated glass edges against his neck. Looking right at Doc, I dragged a bit of the bottle across his pulsing skin, cutting it ever so slightly so that a few droplets of blood began to run down his shirt.

One of the brothers started forward, but the lanky fellow from before stopped him. "Now, you better drop that bottle, you hear?" he snarled. "Or else we're gonna mess you up." Mistake #2: Assuming I didn't have the guts to hurt Doc. I pressed the bottle harder into his neck, and he yelped. He fumbled with his words in his frenzy, and squealed, "No, no, no, stop, Pierre." The lanky fellow, Pierre, shut his mouth. I smiled falsely at them.

"Open the garage." I commanded, my voice making the temperature feel much chillier than the stuffy garage actually was. Pierre hesitated, but Doc enthusiastically nodded, and he pressed a button. The garage's creaky hinges began rolling and the door opened up, revealing the dusty road outside. "You." I motioned towards one of Pierre's brothers with my chin. "Drive my truck out." He hopped into the truck and tentatively moved it forward a few feet. "OUT." I demanded, and Doc whimpered, "Do it, do it." He drove it out and I slowly moved towards it, eyeing Pierre and the rest of the little gang. In the corner of my eye, I saw a quick motion and I turned towards it. Pierre saw his chance and leapt towards me. I dropped Doc, threw the beer bottle squarely at Pierre, and dashed for the truck.

Mistake #3: Not checking what was inside the truck: the gun I kept for situations just like these. One of Pierre's brothers lunged for me as I opened the car door, but reaching inside, I took out the gun in the side compartment. The gun wasn't loaded, but they didn't need to know that. I fired twice and the man recoiled, acting as if he'd been shot. I scrambled into the truck and quickly glanced back at the garage. Doc had recovered from his weak pleas and was in a hotter rage than ever. He practically flew into another truck and started its engine. Pierre, who I had somehow successfully incapacitated with the beer bottle, kneeled there clutching his face, screaming. The third brother followed Doc's motions and got into a different truck. The last man, the one who had announced that I had woken, just stood there, mouth agape. I quickly revved up the truck and shot out from the garage, wheels screeching and churning up dust. My eyes darted frantically between the road and the rear-view mirror, but my truck continued to put distance between myself and Doc. I sped out of the town, watching the cacti go by in blurs. I didn't take my foot off the gas pedal until I saw that I was nearly 60 miles away.

"Wow." a soft female voice breathed, the smell of fresh lilac and citrus mingling together and floating towards me.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed and nearly drove off the road in surprise. I immediately braked and turned around, grasping wildly for the gun and pointing it at the source of the voice.

"Honey, you got it pointing the wrong way," she noted, flashing a beautiful smile that nearly made me melt. Embarrassed, I put the gun down and looked at the woman. She was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen... her wavy, sunny hair rested dreamily on her curved shoulders, her green eyes seemed to stare right into my heart, and everything about her... -- I knew in that second that I had fallen in love, whether I wanted to or not.

"Where'd you come from?" I murmured, "Heaven?"

She laughed, and I looked at her again because it was as if her laugh was the sound I had always been searching for. Her laugh made me want to amuse her again and again, just to hear that wonderful sound again. She looked back at me. "Thanks for saving me." she whispered, winking like it was confidential. I realized that she had been the slender feminine shadow I had seen before. She clearly hadn't been happy there.

I patted the seat next to me. "Hop up." I suggested, scarcely believing how drastically my circumstance had changed. I started the engine again and as she crawled up and wiggled into the seat, I continued to drive forward. The sun began to set and I kept on driving, periodically taking pictures and watching a stunning sunset overtake the desert. I glanced at the angel sitting next to me, and I smiled, straight from my soul.