Late Night Gas Stop

With the sun falling below the horizon, despair and awe filled the young woman as the warm shades of twilight lining the thin-streaking clouds faded into the country silhouette. The interstate was quiet. Only a few lonely headlights were still out. The hills arched in the distance while beams of sunlight peaked their way through to reflect off a group of still wind turbines. In the driver’s seat next to her, a man looked out his window at a farmhouse in ruins. Sizeable portions of its white paint had peeled off, revealing its brown underside. Shingles had fallen off the farmhouse in large patches and the roof on one side of the veranda had collapsed. The windows and front door were gone, leaving only desolate black rectangles in their place. Something blue flashed by on the right shoulder and then quickly disappeared.

“Shoot. I think that sign said a gas station was coming up.” He glanced at the gas gauge. “I’m just gonna get off at the next exit.”

“Are we almost out?”

“About a quarter tank left.”

“What if there’s no gas station at the next exit?”

“Can you check on your phone to see if there is one?”

The young woman lifted her smartphone from her lap and opened the screen with her thumb fingerprint. She typed, “gas station” into the search bar of the map app, and multiple white gas pumps inside red circles appeared on her screen. She looked at their blue dot on the interstate and then ahead to where one of the white gas pumps was on the screen.

           “Okay so there’s an exit coming up. And then it’s the one after that.”

            “So the second exit?”

            “Yeah,” she said through a yawn. A few moments later: “How long until we get to my parents’ house?” she asked.

He twisted his smartphone in its holder so she could see the screen. A blue circle inside a white circle sped along a blue line. She pinched her thumb and index finger together to zoom out. At the end of the blue line was a red marker. For a couple of seconds, she stared at the red marker as a warm feeling surfaced on her cheeks and the corners of her lips moved slightly upwards. Near the bottom of the screen, yellow letters read, “5 hr 2 min.” 

She spun his smartphone holder back around to face him and murmured, “I might close my eyes for a little bit then.”

            “I’ll turn the music off if you’re gonna sleep,” he offered.

            “No. You can keep it on.”

            The soft sound of an alternative band from the early 2000s wafted through the speakers. The young woman reached beside her and reclined the electronic seat. Turning on her side, she gazed up through the backseat window at the changing, infinite sky. The emptiness of it all brought to scope the isolation humanity endures within existence and the frustrating madness of our lives. Way out in the distance, between a group of twisting pink clouds floating close to the horizon, a pair of blinking lights illuminated by the creeping darkness captured her eyes. Her throat tightened as she watched them cut through the half-light, charging towards the sinking sun; suddenly, a flood of painful awareness concerning her own insignificance in the world came over her. She thought of how her life was just one among many billions, and when given enough time how she would grow old, die, and be lost to the past like every living being that came before her and would come after her.

“Can you turn the heat up?” she asked despondently as she crossed her arms to keep warm.

 His fingers turned the dial, and she focused on the pleasant sound of heat rushing out from the vents.

“Is that good?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you,” she mumbled. She tilted her head down, and using her knuckles as a pillow, went to sleep.

The young man looked over at her glossy hair, knowing she didn’t feel well. Something about the nighttime always brought her spirit down. He stared at the passing white dashes on the road, trying to think of different ways to make her feel better, but nothing came to mind.

            At the second exit, the young man got off the interstate and drove down a long, curved road. He stopped at a red light at the bottom of the hill and spotted to his left the gas station's bright lights. A plastic bottle rolled through the street as he turned and drove under the interstate.

Coming out from under the overpass, through his window in the distance, a thin bar of orange was being pushed below the horizon by the falling stars.

Pulling into the gas station, not a single bump, crack, or pothole was felt under the tires. New paint glistened under the bright overhead lights while the brick convenience store gave the place a feeling of wealth among country poverty.

He admired the newness of the gas station as he parked next to a pump. “And people say fossil fuels are on their way out,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling.

The Q3 was turned off and the heat from the vents abruptly stopped, leaving the melancholic sound of nothing permeating throughout the interior. The wind bashed against the windows, and when he opened his door, the crisp night air flooded in. A cool gust of wind swooshed down into his hoodie, creating a gap between skin and cotton that puffed up like a balloon.

Outside the Q3, the young man looked around the gas station while the wind blew in his ear. No other cars were there. The pump buzzed as the gasoline made its way through the hose and into the tank. Through the front doors of the store he could see the clerk absorbed in her smartphone. In one of the windows, a poster advertised a new, all-day spicy breakfast burrito for only $4.99. Adjacent windows had neon signs advertising light beers, hard seltzers, and Marlboros. An electronic sign announced that the Powerball was up to $774 million.

While waiting, he inhaled a smell similar to cotton candy. He looked around to see where the smell was coming from. Across the street, the lone profile of a dark figure walked along the side of the road. A small blue glow near the figure gave way to a thick fog that quickly dissipated in the wind.

The gasoline abruptly stopped flowing through the hose. He removed the nozzle from the gas tank and carefully placed it back in its holster before tightening the gas cap.

The strengthening wind shook the light poles that hung over the street while the young man paid. Looking up and out at the night sky from under the canopy, the never-ending stars orbited by the never-ending planets faded into the periphery of his brain while he thought to himself about the infiniteness of existence and the finite nature of his own life.

Withdrawing his hollow gaze, the young man got back into the Q3. He looked to his right and saw her sweater expanding and contracting. The young man leaned over and gently tucked her hair behind her ear.