she told him…

she told him he’d die out there…said hitchin’ rides was no good…didn’t matter if you were goin’ south or east or west just wasn’t any good…tried to disuade him…talked ’bout those strange men drivin’ pickup trucks ‘cross america…white vans with no windows in ’em…said these men had records a mile long some of ’em…others didn’t have a trace connected to their names…went on this scavenger hunt for victims a long time ago…just drivin’ from town to town on 80 West or 95 North…maybe 55 South…collectin’ bodies along the way…markin’ grave sites with stones and pebbles…stones and pebbles…

he didn’t listen to her…didn’t care whether he lived or died…just wanted to be alive again…hit the road like in the old days when he was just a kid…towns like Joplin…Carthage…Batesville…Huntington…Paris, Texas and Paris, Tennessee…he’d been stuck in all of ’em before…sometimes it’d take days to get a ride goin’ somewhere…just driftin’ along…bag of clothes…a toothbrush…maybe a book or two…always waited it out…always…just knew that good fortune would come his way…he knew it…

met his old lady on the road…she picked him up in Kentucky just over the border where the Ohio River seperates the two states…down there by Cincinatti…he’d gamble on baseball games and get into wild bar fights over in Newport…women would dance for dollars and men would oblige…she was one of them long leggy dancers…drove from town to town bumpin’ and grindin’ to music into the purple hours…he appreciated her poise…thought she was poetry upon the stage…some kind of unspoken language…he wanted her…and he got her…they took off for Chicago and all points west…she danced in Denver…small towns too out in Nebraska…Kansas…Oklahoma…everywhere and anywhere she could get a job…he didn’t contribute much…just a go getter way of talkin’ that kept her inspired…for awhle…awhile…

his luck ran out though…she left him for another ball-n-jack…guy who had his own pickup truck…money to burn…said he’d be her agent…look out for her and all…she fell for his silver tongue…leavin’ him high-n-dry…nothin’ to live for…’cept for the thrill of hittin’ the road one more time…just one more time…

she told him he’d die out there…

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