Ford Model T

The Ford Model T was a shiny dark green with gold lining, just purchased by its owner – a man who couldn’t seem to stop laughing at his own remarks and Jeremy’s silence. He wore a black bowler cap. His car’s charcoal top was folded back; the day was sunny and warm, yet the hot wind blew fiercely, letting dust into the front seat. The man’s hat kept rising off his head in this wind, but he was either very stubborn or didn’t realize it would be better to just take it off, so he kept grabbing it frantically every half a minute to keep it from blowing out into the surrounding desert.

“New York, well hallelujah – it’s got nothing on Chauncey, I tell ya. Just stay right there and I promise you boy, no regrets!” The man laughed loudly over the sound of the engine. He seemed too wild to be sober, and his antics kept moving the car in awkward directions.

“Just as far as Salona, I’ll catch a train there,” said Jeremy, smiling. He welcomed any chance of amusement, and was grateful this man seemed friendly.

“Aye, but New York…hell, it’s given me no reason to hate it or something wild like that, but there’s only so much a man can do there to keep him entertained, no? Right? You know what I mean?” He guffawed and winked heartily at Jeremy. Almost immediately another gust of wind forced him to grab his falling hat again and push it back onto his head. He laughed nervously and fumbled with one hand in his pocket for his precious silver case of cigarettes. The vehicle stuttered, threatening to swerve off the highway while the man’s attention focused on his prize. “You smoke, son?”

“Sure.”

He pulled one out and stuck it in his mouth and tossed the case to Jeremy, while fumbling again for the lighter in his other pocket. “So why you going there anyways? Long way to go without no reason,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the presence of the cigarette in his mouth. But he seemed calmer suddenly as he flipped opened the lighter, and the car slowed to a more normal speed as a result. The dirt road curved to the right. Jeremy noticed that the number of hills had lessened considerably. He figured they couldn’t be far from a town or city.

“Money.” The smooth lining of the cigarette slid between Jeremy’s fingertips. He caught the lighter the man had just thrown him, opened it, and brought the fire quickly to the tip, afraid the wind would blow it out. He glanced at the open road ahead. There was a sign not too far along.

“Figures. Money’s everything nowadays. Ain’t no escape.”

Jeremy nodded. “I’ve barely got enough in my pocket to get me somewhere.” He stuck the cigarette between his teeth and slowly breathed in the smoke, tossing the container and lighter back to the man. But his mind was wandering suddenly and he miscalculated; he took the cigarette hurriedly out of his mouth, coughing.

“You okay, son?”

Coughing and swallowing, wincing at the excessive amount of smoke still in his mouth, Jeremy nodded. “Mhm. Just haven’t had a smoke in a while.”

“Shame,” said the man with a laugh, chewing on his own cigar.