The Hare and the Flame

1

The Vine Moon

♍︎

“Wake up,” I said to my father as I pushed his shoulder. The man grunted and then shrugged as if pushing the snooze button on his alarm clock. I pushed him again, this time with more force. He grunted harder and then sat up right.

“What’s up? Are we there yet?” he asked as he gazed out the window of our Chevy truck.

“No idea, but it’s about time you drive. I’m starting to doze off.”

“You’ll be fine. Down some caffeine or something,” he said as he tried to fall back asleep. His encouragement meant nothing to me and I grabbed him by the hair, pulled back and slammed the side of his head into the window.

“What the Hell, Damien?”

“Listen asshole, I’ve been driving for five hours to a town that we can’t even find on a map because you insist that it exists.”

“I ought to kick your ass right here.”

“Yeah Dad. Start a fight in the truck while I’m going sixty in a thirty. We might both die, but I’ll take that as a win.” Just for good measure I gave the steering wheel a slight jerk.

“Fine,” he caved.

“I’m stopping at the next gas station and then you can take over,” I told him as I spied a Shell station perched on a hill in the distance. The road spiraled around the hill leading into the station. It was taking too long and I felt an argument about to ensue so without any hesitation I plucked the last of my cigarettes out of its carton. The long drag from it was appreciated and calmed me down.

“At least roll the windows down,” my father said.

“Dad, you’ve literally smoked meth in this truck.”

“Yeah, and I always rolled the window down.”

I rolled my eyes before I cranked down my window.

When we reached the Shell station I sighed in frustration.

“Four pumps and only one of them works?” I muttered when I saw the bright orange traffic cones placed next to the pumps.

“Probably don’t get much income out here.”

I pulled up behind the car at the single working pump and shifted into first along with setting the emergency brake.

“I’m getting something to eat. When they’re done, fill the tank up.” My father scoffed as I stepped out of the truck and into the cool air of the night. I had to hold back from gagging.

“Smells like ass,” I thought as I caught a whiff of petrol and vomit. I put my hands in my pockets and passed through the doors. Along the way I caught a glimpse of the driver of the car in front of us. She was an older, plump, white woman with a hateful look etched onto face. She was arguing with someone. He looked like an employee. I knew what that meant and kept my eyes forward and continued moving forward without so much as a friendly gesture. A light chime rang as I stepped inside. The cashier ignored my existence and continued to flip through a magazine on the counter, which was fine by me.

I walked down each aisle and took my time. There was no rush to get back. Each row of various gas station snacks and knick knacks seemed to go on forever. Or maybe it was because I was walking in circles. With each rotation around to the next aisle, I was met with the face of a girl my age. The first thing I noticed about her was her height. She wasn’t taller than me, but with the heels she wore she looked about even. Brown eyes and a faint smile buried face first into a book she held a few feet away from her. Fair skin, coupled with the dirty blonde hair held up in a French braid she was a prime example of how to blend into the wall behind her. I locked eyes with her, smiled, and then watched the hem of her dress bounce as she turned the corner into the next aisle and her heels clack on the tile floor.

There was a crash and the sound of glass smashing into the ground.

“Crap. I’m sorry,” said a lighter and feminine voice. That must have been her. I was curious and turned the corner. On the other side I found a magazine rack and pretended to pick through it as I eavesdropped on their conversation.

“You better be prepared to pay for this.” The same employee from outside said with a temper as he gestured to a busted thirty rack on the ground.

“I have like five bucks in cash. That should cover it.”

“It’s twenty for the case, you know?”

“Yeah, for the whole thing. There’s only a few cans broken.”

“I don’t care. You owe me,” the man said as he reached out and grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled upwards. As his free hand fiddled with her purse in an attempt to find something valuable. When that came up fruitless he reached for the necklace she wore. What was with this guy? I get that he was mad from earlier, but this was the wrong person to take it out on.

The girl’s demeanor shifted from bravery in the face of danger to heightened fear. I choked on the icy air as a freezing blast of wind erupted through the store. The girl had a death grip on the rabbit pendant attached to the necklace as she tried to free her other hand from the man. My body shivered as if I had walked into a store sized instant freezer. It felt like my blood itself would freeze if it were any colder. Every liquid in the station erupted from the drop in temperature. Glass froze and shattered.

The man stepped back in awe. I didn’t blame. My head was also spinning as I tried to make sense of what was happening. Another pop and the thirty rack of beer exploded into an alcoholic slushy. The man’s awe turned into an irrational anger and raised his fist.

“Shit, really?” I muttered to myself as I leapt forward. Before he could put his fist into her, mine was drilling a hole into the side of his face. I heard a crack and I wasn’t sure if it was my knuckles, his jaw, or both. Whichever it was, my hand was throbbing and he was knocked out cold. The girl and I huffed, trying to catch our breath. Everything had happened in just a few seconds, but the adrenaline was more than enough to knock the wind out of both of us.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I stood up and faced her for the first time.

“I could have handled it.” she said with a calm, but irritated voice.

“Um, okay. I didn’t think you couldn’t.”

“Then why did you cave that guy’s face in?”

“I, um. Because he could have hurt you?”

“Then you think I couldn’t have handled it.”

“I, um.”

“I don’t need a white knight to come to my rescue.”

“But I’m black.”

There was a moment of silence as my terrible attempt at humor set in. Her scowl turned into a grin and then a slight chuckle.

“That was stupid,” she said between laughs. She brought her hand up to her face to try and hide her smile. When she brought her hands away, a red mark was left behind.

“Crap, you’re bleeding,” I said as I looked for some medical supplies. I was sure I had seen some on my journey through the aisles.

“Oh? Yeah, I guess I am,” she said as she examined her hand.

“It must have been the glass or-” I paused as I noticed the blood on her pendant and realized the bleeding was on her palm. Was she gripping it so hard that it caused her to bleed? I strained my eyes on the pendant.

“Your necklace. The pendant I mean.”

“Yes?”

“Are those blades on it?”

“No, of course not,” she proclaimed as she stuffed the necklace down her front, not caring if any blood would stain her dress.

“Alright. Sure.” I said. I never understood fashion. Or maybe it was supposed to be some kind of self defense weapon. If the latter is the case then she should get her money back.

“Look, um. Thanks.” she muttered.

I guess apologizing wasn’t something she was used to or good at since it didn’t feel sincere. Still, it was appreciated.

“Yeah, not a problem. I’m Damien by the way.” I said as I stuck out my hand out of instinct. She gave me a disappointed roll of her eyes.

“I’m Serena and maybe we should postpone holding hands when my hands aren’t covered in blood.” I rolled my eyes the same way she did and then held out my opposite hand for her to take. She looked at me and then gave me an awkward handshake. For a moment, we didn’t let go.

“Your hands are really warm,” I said without thinking. Lucky for me I held back the part about how soft they were too.

“And your hands are like ice.”

“Well, it is pretty chilly here.”

“Any idea why that happened?”

“I don’t know. A gas leak maybe?”

I had a feeling Serena had something to do with the sudden bottoming in temperature, but what could this girl do to cause something so drastic? There was a honk, followed by a groan from the man I knocked out.

“That would be my mother,” Serena said.

“And that would be my que to get out of here.”

We both laughed.

“Good bye, Damien.”

“Good bye, Serena.”

I watched her make her exit and then my attention was back on the man groaning on the floor.

“What the Hell happened?” he asked me. I covered my knuckles in case he couldn’t recall that I was the one who hit him.

“Gas leak.”