Stranded in the Parking Lot

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Mike stopped at the PetLove store to get dry chow and look at the collars and leashes. His wife Cathy was a brunette who looked attractive in dark blues and reds, and there was a maroon leather collar with plush lining that might fit her. The collar ring could be connected with a carabiner to a leash or chain. They had tried tying her up with pantyhose and scarves, and found that Ace bandage tape worked best. Cathy was adamant that he leave no marks on her from their games. After that misadventure with the duct tape, Mike thought he'd better coax her along slowly until she got over her apprehension.

Mike put his purchases behind the front seat of his truck, and turned toward the exit ramp to Route 605. Ten car lengths ahead on the ramp sat an older sedan with no lights except flashers. It was already after five o'clock and the February drizzle would be sleet or snow by dark. Mike pulled up behind the fool in the white sedan and honked, then set his own flashers. He picked up his flashlight, a heavy three-cell, which was his emergency weapon.

The door on the old Toyota popped open and a forty-eight-year-old Barbie doll looked out. The big blonde hair had obviously been styled that afternoon, and her beige tights were tucked into Uggs which would have been appropriate on her granddaughter of twelve. What caught Mike's eyes were the fingernails. His hands were warm in his winter gloves, but Barbie was driving barehanded with bright crimson and yellow flowers painted across her fingertips. She wasn't driving at all, actually; she leaned the door open and hugged a mochaccino cup in her other hand.

"Oh, hi there, can you help me?" she squealed to Mike. "It just died as I was pulling out, and I can't get it started. It's been giving me trouble in cold weather."

Mike looked past her overstretched sweater and noticed that the dashboard lights were off, even the four-way emergency icon. She had heat and defroster turned on, but the windows were fogged. "Have you called roadside assistance, yet? If you can get started, where do you want to go?" he asked her.

Barbie replied, "I live just half a mile down 605, and if I can get it home my son will get it fixed in the morning. He told me yesterday that I should get the battery checked. Do you think that's it?"

It seemed like a dead battery to Mike, but he wondered about the alternator. "Pop the hood," he told the blonde, "and I'll take a look at your battery." She sat there holding the coffee, watching him, never breathing a word about jumper cables. Probably never used any, he told himself as he walked back to his truck. Icy drizzle pelted the bags of dog chow in the trunk as Mike reached for the cables. He wondered when Cathy would be home tonight; she had a tax class after work.

The Toyota turned over immediately when he jumped it, and Mike and the blonde sat in her car while the battery charged up and the heater lurched back to life. The windows were still fogged; she had turned off the defroster and the running lights. Barbie offered Mike her coffee and thanked him again for being a Good Samaritan. When she passed him the mochaccino her right hand rested on his knee. He looked again at those shiny nails extending over her fingertips. Cathy didn't wear flashy makeup; he had never seen her in dark nail polish. Cathy would call it trashy.

Headlights glared off the wet road next to the car. Mike realized it was dark and the snow was piling up on the frozen wipers. He needed to get the running lights on and get off this ramp. "Let's try the parking lights, now," he said to the woman. "You need to make sure the traffic sees you here."

"If it's not too much trouble," the blonde whispered to Mike, "do you think you might follow me till I get home? My son is at work and there's no one home. I'll make us a nice drink, and it's just a few minutes from here."

Mike thought about the bag of supplies from PetLove sitting in his truck. This blonde was a little chunkier than his wife, but he could manage. Barbie slid her hand a few inches up his thigh and smiled at him.

"Sure, I'll be happy to make sure you get home safely," Mike said.

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xxPAPERBACKWRITERxxxxPAPERBACKWRITERxxover 10 years ago
Leave them begging for more.

LIT readers have a tough time filling the holes with their imaginations. They always demand National Park Service guided tours.

5 stars, Good job.

guysimple1674guysimple1674almost 11 years ago
Too short

The build up is nice,but its too short. You should get more details for an independent building up story, or get into the action.

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