Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Only Prompts - 11. Spares
Prompt 509 – Creative
Tag – The Tire
You're were called away for a business trip to the middle of nowhere. On the way home you blew a tire. When you go for your spare you remember you were going to get it fixed, but you forgot. You call the auto club and they send out a repair truck to help you. When it arrives you find yourself facing someone from your past. Who is it and what happens?
Spares
Finally! Finally it was over—two days of discussing the merits of manure spreaders, and looking at the latest models, were done. I hurried back to the Rat’s Ass Motel to see if the fleas had moved into my suitcase yet. I wanted to pack and get back home to the farm. This tiny town supported the big skiing industry, and in the off season businesses gave seminars here—it was miles, and miles, and even more miles from the next drop of civilization; the medium sized town of Vintnerburg.
Once back at the motel I packed quickly and got on the road. It was a long drive and I’d have to stop overnight in the next town as it was. Be nice to get there in time for dinner.
Mark grew-up in Vintnerburg. He says he had the perfect small town childhood. The fact he was gay came to him after he’d married his high school sweetheart. He had been eighteen at the time. He and I met at agricultural college. We found out about each other during drunken fumbling and hot kisses. Then we were inseparable, and once we’d said the ‘L’ word, we knew we were meant for each other.
I’d spoken to Mark the previous night. Poor bugger was going mad trying to keep the farm ticking over on his own. Hey, don’t look at me, I’d suggested he get in a guy to help while I was away. But, Mr. I-Can-Do-It-Alone wasn’t having any of that! The funny thing is, I work as a full-time salesman in the local farm equipment store, and he looks after the farm without a whole lotta help from me. Why he falls apart when I go on a seminar or business trip I don’t know.
Anyway, we’d discussed me driving home and it seems the weather was supposed to close in some. Well I had my snow tires on, chains in the back and a couple of bags of sand for traction. Mark also made sure I had a thermal blanket, granola bars and bottled water—all good. There was a spare tire in the back and flares—I was prepared.
I was an hour out of my overnight destination when it happened. The sudden thud—I steered defensively and pulled the car over to the shoulder. Light snow was falling as I undid the seatbelt, got out of the car, and confirmed I had a flat. I opened the trunk, prepared to jack-up the car, and hauled out the spare tire. As soon as I dropped the spare I knew—it was flat.
Needless to say, I kicked it, and cursed a midnight-blue streak.
Dammit!
I returned to the car and pulled out my cell. To make this perfect I was expecting to find no service, but there were two bars. I was giddy with excitement as I called for help. The auto club said they’d get a tow out to me as soon as possible. There was nothing to do but wait. I drank water and ate a granola bar. I covered myself with the blanket and went to sleep.
Tapping on my window woke me and I found myself staring at the person who hated me most in the world—Eva, Mark’s ex-wife.
The end of their marriage had not been pretty, and to say Eva hated me was an understatement. She accused me of turning him gay and breaking up their happy home. While they went through the process, Mark and I didn’t see each other, and only spoke on the phone from time to time. It had been an ordeal for all of us.
If she recognized me, Eva didn’t show it, well, not until I got out of the car.
“Steve. Great! An hour’s drive to help the man who ruined my life.”
I sighed. “Eva … please. Mark was always gay and eventually he’d have left. It would have hurt you and any kids you may have had. You can’t turn people gay.”
Her eyes darkened. “Just tell me the problem, Steve.”
“Spare’s flat.”
“Fine. I’ll check it and add air, or use one of mine. You have a jack?”
“Yes, but I can ….”
“And you think I can’t?”
“No, but ….”
“I work for the Auto Club, I’m a qualified mechanic as well. I don’t need a man to do anything for me.”
“Fine! Jesus.” I stomped off, leaving her to do whatever. I sat on the guardrail facing away from her and stared across the open fields.
“Want some coffee?” Eva asked, as she settled beside me on the guardrail. “Look, Steve. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’d probably feel the same way.”
“Tire is done.” She handed me some black coffee in a small Styrofoam cup. “I was pretty bitchy. It’s been a rough year.”
I sipped the steaming liquid. “Thanks.” I looked at her. “Sorry you’ve had a rough time.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, before I asked her, “You married, have kids, Eva? You know, we always hoped you would.”
“Yes, husband and two little kids. Boy and a girl.” Her voice was flat.
I paused, and briefly wondered if I should say more. “That’s nice. You know … neither of us wanted to hurt you. We didn’t plan it.”
“They’re all dead.”
Someone hit me in the chest with a hammer, or it felt like that. “Jesus ,what?”
I turned to look at her. She sat staring straight ahead, silent tears falling, dripping onto her white overalls.
Her voices cracked as she said, “Dead. Charlie and little Brian and Jen—my parents too.”
I couldn’t speak, I felt hot tears in my eyes and no words came to me. I dropped my coffee and took hers and dropped it too. I just pulled her into my arms. She didn’t fight me, just held on and cried.
When the tears stopped she said, “You must have read about it. Huge house fire, last year.”
I cast my thoughts back. “Yes … but … the wife’s name was Maryjane Little.”
“My first name is Maryjane. I always hated it so went by my middle name.”
“I’m so sorry, Eva. My God.”
My car was ready and Eva had packed up her truck. I helped her up into the vehicle, and she thanked me. I was ready to close the door when on an impulse I said, “You know. Christmas is a couple of weeks away. You can come to us for the weekend if you want to.”
Eva smiled and shook head. “Thanks, but … well I just don’t think so.”
“l understand … you’re welcome—if you change your mind.”
The next afternoon I pulled into the driveway, never feeling so happy to be home. Mark emerged from the house, apron on—meaning something was baking! Apple pie, I hoped.
Mark pulled the car door open and bent down and kissed me. I held him there by the cheeks and kissed him back. The talk with was Eva so fresh in my mind, after we broke away I said, “I love you Mark. You are the most precious thing in my life.”
Standing up, he helped me out of the car and I just pulled him close and held him. He smelled so good, like apples, and sugar—like home.
“Hey … you okay babe?” he asked.
“Yeah … I just missed you.”
Christmas Eve found Mark and me at home. The fridge loaded with eggnog and booze. We had chestnuts ready for roasting over the fire in the living room. In the oven the turkey was nearly done and all the vegetables were prepped.
Mark was lighting the candles when I heard a truck in the front of the house. I looked out—then turned quickly and ran into the kitchen. I hadn’t told Mark, not wanting to upset him.
I took him by the shoulders and quickly told him what I’d done and why. His eyes filled with tears and we hung on to each other briefly. We kissed and walked to the front door arriving just as the doorbell rang. He glanced at me, opened it, smiled tightly at his ex-wife and drew her into his embrace.
I watched them rock together. Watched them hold on, as behind them snow drifted from the skies above—moonlight making each flake a diamond.
I followed as Mark and Eva walked arm-in-arm down the hall. It would be Christmas soon, a time for peace. I hoped that Eva would find some here.
C'est Fini
All the errors in this are mine.
- 18
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Story Discussion Topic
Recommended Comments
Chapter Comments
-
Newsletter
Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter. Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.