They talked into the night. Spoke about different things. Chased the moon.

He picked up the youngster at a diner in Topeka. Said he was heading west. Going out to Colorado. Spend some time in Denver like Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty. Eventually, wind up in San Francisco. Buy a book at City Lights.

Ever heard of Kerouac and Cassady? He asked the runaway. The teenage boy with a ring in his left ear shook his head, no. That’s a shame. Full of adventure and longing. Longing to discover America. No telling what those two were gonna do next. Had to turn the page, said the bearded old dude. You don’t talk much.

Just along for the ride, the kid said.

Aren’t we all. Maybe the days of discovery are over.

Sure.

They rode along in the dark with the radio turned down low. Picked up static in the middle of nowhere. The hum kept them awake.

What do you want to be when you grow up? The old man asked. The boy didn’t respond. He acted like he was asleep at times. In and out of dreams. Mumbling something about mom and dad. Talking in soft tones of girls in his high school.

I know, the hippie said. I still ain’t figured it out. He laughed. Ain’t that funny. Grown man still ain’t figured it out. Oh. I do odd jobs here and there. Guess I’m just a traveling fool. He looked at the boy. The sun was coming up. An orange haze filled the sky.

You can let me out at the truck stop, the teen said.

You sure?

Yeah.

OK.

You gotta five spot on you? I’m hungry.

Yeah. I can do that.

The old man pulled out a wad of cash. Handed the kid a twenty. Said, today’s your lucky day.

The boy didn’t even say thanks. He just went from truck to truck looking for his next ride.