Blythe California

Down a dipping and rising ride the heat gage on Frank’e car hits the red zone. It was 117 degrees dry desert heat. He pulled in the first filling station his cool seeking eyes found.

The station was not small; not very big. Next to was a well kept double wide painted yellow and white two tone deluxe with huge box air conditioners humming away on both sides.

Frank wiped his face and neck. He was all about the desert. Even In September the heat can really get you.

He loved it.

The tank filled, Frank checked the black rubber tires on the silvered on his trailer. It resembled a small, aluminum capsule.

Walking in the station from the heat he stopped and soaked in the refrigerated air. It caused little beads of sweat to form on his forehead.l”.

“Hey, you have any radiator water I can use?”

“No water pal. Can’t spare it? You wan’t you have to buy it.”

“What about the. . .”

“Who, that guy over there?” the guy behind the count said hooking his thumb pointing towards the main working on the grass. He’s my older brother. He can’t hear much but great guy. Hey, I got things to take care of. You wanter? You buy it in half gallon jugs.

The guy had some racket going. Filling up the jugs with water and selling water than more than he was getting out of the garden hose.

The guy behind the counter went in back. Frank gave a hard right kick to the dumb brother, took the hose and let his steaming truck a drink.

He pulled the hose back in front of the double wide. He sprayed the man he had kicked, left the house and pulled away. The man from behind the counter glared at Frank

” I know,” Frank yelled back before the other guy standing there on the hot pavement. “Water? I know you gotta buy it.”

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One thought on “Blythe California

  1. Aaah capitalism. Ain’t it great?

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