Artifact 3: Josh Meets Dauntless Dawn

Josh's mysterious delivery is interrupted first by George, then teenaged Dawn.

Artifact 3: Josh meets Dauntless Dawn

 

            The muzak monotonously burrowed into his consciousness; Josh shut it out to focus on deceitful George standing less than an arm’s length away.

            “Ah, ah, b-but I-I-I,” George stammered excessively, stalling for time. He started stowing the box away. “C-c-c-company c-cash, sir.”

            “Not that BS again,” Josh said. He leaned over the counter reaching across the counter with one arm to make a grab for George. But Josh’s quarry backed away as his hand dove into the cash to finger a glint of steel reflected in the bright lights. Josh’s hand instinctively shot into his pocket where his music player resided.

George froze. Josh froze. A stare down commenced.  

Josh glared at George as his retro music player bulged hard and menacing through his jacket pocket. George broke the stare to glance down at the cash. Josh leaned back away a step, and George set the box down.

“I’m outa’ here,” Josh said, with a thumb over his shoulder. As he turned away to leave, he changed his mind. Josh pivoted back to face George; he pointed a finger like an arrow zeroed in at George’s nose. “As soon as YOU make it right!”

George’s trembling hand reached into the box; Josh pressed harder on his player and leaned in toward George while taking a stiff, steely breath. George got the message and drew out a handful of cash. He haphazardly dribbled out a few bills and shoved them across the counter toward Josh. That was good enough for Josh. One handedly, he swiped the bills off the counter and stuffed them into his pocket. He backed away toward the door.

            George yelled after him, “I can forget this, sir!” 

            Still with the menacing pocket, Josh answered, “I hope you can, George. Goodbye.” He turned and walked out without a glance back. As he walked across the pavement, another set of footsteps trotted up behind him.   

            “Now what?” He said with an edge, looking back while expecting the worse.

            “Hey, Mister.” It was the brunette girl who trotted up to his side. “That guy’s some kind of angius in herba, huh?”

            Watching her glowing cigarette spew sparks as she gestured back to George, Josh asked, “Say what?” 

            “Latin… a snake in the grass.”

            “Oh, yeah, I guess..say, are you a local?  Do you see him do that sort of thing all the time?

            “Hey, no, I’m just passing through here too…going west…hey, you’re going west aren’t ya’, Mister?”

            “No, you can’t, ah...” He pointed to her with an upraised bent finger.

            “Dawn.”

            “Dawn. No, you can’t hitch a ride with me; I’m traveling fast, and I’m traveling light,” Josh said, taking in her entirety. He shrugged. “Sorry, No pax.”

            “Say what?”

            “No passengers. I travel fast and light and alone.”

             “Yah, I bet you go fast in that thing,” Dawn said, smoke drifting from the corner of her mouth as she tilted her head toward the car. “But hey Mister, I’m traveling light too,” she said, lifting the canvas backpack off her shoulder with a thumb.

            Josh leaned on his car, “So I see,” he paused taking her in. “You know smoking is bad for you.” Josh said, waving the smoke away from his face.

            “It’s a habit, so I’ve got no choice,” she said, with a shrug.

            “Well, I’d love to stay and chat with you, Dawn, but I gotta go,” he paused again, scanning her. “Very nice…boots by the way,” Josh said.

  “Yah, my travelin’ boots, ready for the road,” Dawn said, stretching out her leg to model her knee-high boots. “Aww, come on, change your policy on passengers. Let me tag along, I’ll be no trouble, and I like all kinds of music. Betcha’ can hear all kinds of music on that player in your pocket.”

            Josh smiled at her innate perception. He turned to look at Dawn closely. What huge, round… eyes, he thought. She curled her ruby-painted, glowing lips up in a youthful seductive smile.

“No ride, sorry Dawn. I have to get going,” He pulled open the car door and got in.  She bent over and rapped on the window. Josh slid open the front half of the window.

             “Come on, Mister. Pleeeasse?” Dawn pleaded. “I was dropped off by my last ride and have no one out here�"and I’m down on my luck, ya’ know?  I can be a help to ya.’” She took a hard drag on the cigarette pinched between her fingers; it glowed bright in her pursed glowing lips. Josh couldn’t help but look before snapping out of her allure.

            “Help?  What can you do? Besides, I’d be an addict after riding a couple days with you smoking those f**s,” he said, pointing at her smoldering cigarette. “Some advice, Dawn. You shouldn’t have ended up in this situation out here on your own in the middle of nowhere at your age�"what�"seventeen?”

            “Sixteen, actually,” Dawn said, with smoke drifting from her open mouth. “Even more reason you shouldn’t leave me behind.”

            “Call the cops,” Josh said, buckling his harness. “They’ll help you out.”

            “Yeah, by putting me in a juvenile detention hall with convicts.” Dawn said, dredging up some tears. “You want to be responsible for that�"on your conscience?”   

            “Shouldn’t be too bad in the hall for a sixteen year girl.”

            “Are you kidding? They’d love to harass, molest, rape, and who knows what else they would do to me.”

            Josh swallowed hard but snapped out of his second-thought hesitation. “Sorry, I got to go!”  He turned the key. The electric fuel pump buzzed, lights flashed on, and the gauges sprang to life.

            Dawn gripped the window edge with white knuckles and moved in closer, putting her face close to the open window with her last ditch effort. “C’mon! Don’t be so cold, Mister!” She paused then added. “I’m really only fifteen! Please?”

            “Any other time I might give you ride, Dawn but not this time.”

            He turned forward and flipped on the HUD IR enhancement. The red-tinted square flickered on the windshield. He fired off the engine, did a quick glance of the gauges, depressed the clutch, and clicked the transmission into first. Dawn released her grip on the car and backed a step.

“See you and good luck, Dawn,” he said, easing out the clutch. He sedately pulled out of the fuel dispensary lot. He saw Dawn for just a moment in his rear view as he turned onto the access road. She stood there in the empty lot holding a hand up in a motionless wave, cigarette and ruby-red lips glowing in the cool night breeze.  

            Josh rubbed his eyes, smiled a little grim smile, and shook his head.