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He leans over, withdrawing a flashlight from his pocket and clicks it on as he scans the inside. “Hmm…”
“What?”
“No idea.” He shrugs and releases the hood down. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get you cinched up.”
I stand back and watch as he attaches the hook to my front bumper. “So, you’re a mechanic now?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“And they stiff you with the night shift?”
“Who’s getting stiffed?” he asks. “I love the night shift. I volunteer for it. It’s quiet and chill. Mostly just get truckers but every once in a while, I get the call for a beautiful lady stranded out in the middle of nowhere and sometimes she’s very grateful for my help… if you know what I mean.”
I nod. “I think I cracked your code, Tucker.”
“Of course, I don’t expect that tonight, obviously,” he says, gesturing at me. “In fact, the last thing I expected to find on this road tonight was you, ‘cuz.”
“Same.” I wrap my jacket a little tighter around me to block out the cold breeze.
Tucker slides the car into neutral and nods to his truck. “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride to Uncle Hank’s.”
I climb inside and sit still, silently taking in the view. Tucker turns off the highway and we navigate a tight, empty road for a few miles before passing the welcome sign into Clover, Kansas.
Main Street is dark and empty, as it always was after ten. Local businesses must still close their doors just before eight o’clock, leaving very little — if anything — to do.
Not much has changed since I left, though I’m not sure why I would expect it to. Tucker glances over at me every so often, no doubt plagued with burning questions but I can’t exactly blame him.
He slows to a stop on Ninth Street. “This is as far as I can go in this beast,” he says. “Unless I wanna wake the neighborhood beeping backward to try and get out again.”
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing my backpack. “I can walk it.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, I’ll be all right. It’s Clover, ya know?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I know. Well, it’s really nice to see you, Jovie.”
“You, too.” I step outside, instantly shivering the second my feet touch the ground. “I’ll stop by the car shop in the morning to fill out paperwork or whatever you guys need.”
“Uh…” He shifts forward in his seat. “You know, don’t bother. I’ll fill it out for you and call you with updates.”
“No, I can do it, Tuck.”
“Well… he works there now.”
“Oh.” I pause. “He does? Really?”
“Yeah, for about two years now.”
I bite my lip. “Okay, then… yeah, you can fill out the forms and stuff for me. That’d be great. Thanks.”
He gives a short wave. “Say hi to Uncle Hank for me.”
“I will.”
I close the door and turn to stare down my old street as the tow truck rides off with my car hanging behind it.
An eerie calmness washes over me. I suppose if we’re talking traditional definitions, this is my home. I grew up on this street, walked down it every day for twelve years to go to school, but I feel very little connection to it otherwise.
