Walking blues..
He almost trips over his own two feet trying to catch up to the car when its pulls over to the shoulder of Crow Crossing Road.
He’s been walking for hours it seems and it’s the first and only one that he’s seen, as he approaches it he notices that the car seems a bit dated and out of place but is more than happy to accept the ride as it is getting on towards dawn. When he sees the young man with the slicked back hair and the brilliant smile it puts him at ease as he slides into the passenger seat.
“Where you headed to man?” the young man asks.
“Traverse City.” he tells him.
“Well mister I’m only going as far as Chet Hardaway’s place about ten miles down the road but you’re welcome to ride along.”
He happily agrees and the silver sports car spins a little gravel as it hit’s the blacktop. The two men share casual conversation and the young man introduces himself .
“My name is James, what do they call you Mister?”
“Willie.. Willie Brubaker.”
“Nice to meet you Willie, hey you hungry? We could stop and get a bite at Chet’s if you like.”
Willie confesses that it has been awhile since he has eaten but doesn’t have any money for food.
“Hey are you sure they’re gonna be open? Its gonna be daylight soon.”
The young man he knows only as James smiles.
“No problem Willie, Chet’s always open.”
Always open.
The two men sit in a booth and exchange small talk while they wait for Willies breakfast, who is looking out the window at the little silver sports car.
“So James.. What kind of car is that anyways?”
James Smiles.
“That there is a 1955 Porsche Spyder, everybody says it’s trouble but I love the damned thing, I have been driving it forever it seems like, but hey that’s how it is when you love a car man.”
“You don’t see cars like that around much these days, now everything is plastic, I used to have a 62 Chevy Impala, man what a car.” Willie shakes his head sadly at the memory.
James lights a cigarette slowly inhales the smoke, his young eyes seem a little sadder now, as they search through the stained window pane out at the early morning air.
“They don’t make anything like they used to anymore Willie.” he tells him, “There isn’t any soul in anything any more, not in cars, not in music, not in movies, not in anything, pride, heart and soul has been replaced by quantity and profit, no pride in craftsmanship any more.”
The conversation falls silent as Willie eats his breakfast, and James tells him that he can get him as far as turn thirty five another six miles down the road. They gas up the Porsche and Chet Waves at them as it pulls back out onto the road of Crow’s, and
James slowly pushes down on the throttle, and as the sky slowly begins to turn a lighter shade of blue the silver Porsche Spyder eases over to the shoulder at turn thirty five to let Willie out for the last time.
“This is it Willie, this is as far as I ever go, you be good to yourself brother. And be careful, the world has gotten to be a cold place.”
The two shake hands, and Willie watches as the Porsche slowly turns around and disappears into the early morning sunrise. He shrugs his shoulders as he looks up at a lone crow perched on the road sign.
“Yeah.. I’ll just bet you’ve seen it all haven’t you big guy?’
And as the sun rises at his back Willie turns up his collar at the early morning chill, and Willie Brubaker Knows as the Crow knows.. That anything is possible here on Crows Crossing Road.
Scratch. A.B.T. © copyright 2007.
