Josh was perched crosslegged on a stack of empty milk crates behind the counter in the convenience store, head down over his phone. The bell jangled raucously as the door opened. He glanced up, then returned to his typing.
“Hey Kevin. Your truck need gas again?” he said, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Naw, Josh. I just come here for the top-flight service and the judgement-free zone,” Kevin shot back as he pulled his wallet out and fished through it.
“Ow, harsh,” Josh complained, only then standing up, pocketing his phone, and shuffling over to the register.
Kevin raised an eyebrow, but otherwise forbore from further comment. “Fifty on three.” As he plunked the cash on the counter, the bell on the door jangled again; a woman of fairly advanced age entered. “Josh, dearie, is the air machine still not working properly? I put all those quarters in, but nothing happened.”
Josh forced a thin, unconvincing smile over the reflexive grimace that seized his face as she spoke. “No, Mrs. Mawson, I’m really sorry. It isn’t fixed yet. Lemme just get Kevin going and I’ll be right out to help you with it, okay?”
“Okay, dear,” she agreed. She turned, pushed the door open, and jangled the bell once more, keeping up a steady stream of speech as she exited. “But I really think you should have it fixed by now. It’s been….”
Josh glared after her. “Well, I really think you should have that slow leak in your tire fixed by now,” he huffed when all danger of her overhearing was past.
Kevin folded his arms. “So how long has this been going on, now?”
“All right, you’re all set,” Josh informed him, circling out from behind the counter, “and it’s been four freaking weeks.” Kevin trailed him across the store. “I cannot understand why that crazy old bat doesn’t just get her tire fixed. By this point, she’s spent way more in quarters than what the patch or resealing or whatever would’ve run her.”
“Sure, but why doesn’t Dave just get someone down here to look at the air machine?”
“I mean, it works fine as long as you know the right way to jiggle it.” Josh shrugged helplessly as he shoved the door open, bell jangling. He cast a baleful glance at it swinging overhead. “I hate that damn thing. I have nightmares about it.”
Kevin pumped his gas and leaned against the side of his big old green Ford F-250 to watch with amusement as Josh got the air running in all of ten seconds, and then spent the next ten minutes trying to politely escape from Mrs. Mawson. It was really rather impressive- she never seemed to breathe as she pontificated. Finally (about two minutes after he had finished pumping his gas), Kevin ambled towards the convenience store and rescued his friend.
“Hey, Josh! Can I get my change?”
Josh entirely failed to disguise the look of relief that washed over his face. He jogged backwards away from Mrs. Mawson, who, undeterred, continued loudly declaring her opinions despite the apologies he called out. Kevin held open the door, bell stubbornly jangling, which allowed Josh to duck into relative safety and barricade himself behind the counter.
“Okay, that’s, uh….” Josh poked buttons on the register, and it spat the cash drawer open. “Seven bucks is your change, sir,” he grinned at Kevin, but his attempt at model employee behavior was lost on the other man.
Kevin was shifting from foot to foot, eyes fixed on the nearest display of snacks. Rather than take the proffered change, he grabbed a package of Skittles and tossed them on the counter. “Those, too.” Josh dutifully scanned them with a long-suffering sigh, recited the total, and began making change out of seven dollars.
“So, look, Josh. I decided something today-“
“Hey, shut up for a second, would you? You made me lose count,” Josh scolded, oblivious to the fact that Kevin had clearly been working up to announcing something momentous.
As Josh handed him his change, Kevin began again. “So, I quit my job today. Lease is up on my apartment. I’m going on the road for at least the summer. I’m gonna just- go, you know? Already have the tent. I’ll take a little time to settle things and pack the truck. Figure I can mostly camp at national parks and BLM land, and hike and, just, see stuff. And think.”
Josh stared at him blankly. “What? But- dude. Why?”
Kevin shrugged. “To set my life on fire so I have to make a change. Do you wanna go with me?”
“You’re nuts! You quit, and you have nowhere to live, and you’re just going to live out of your truck? On the road? Anything could happen out there!” Josh gestured vaguely, the movement seemingly encompassing anywhere outside of town.
“Exactly. Anything could happen out there. It can’t here.” Kevin was warming to his pitch. “I’m stuck, Josh- no future. I’ve been working at the same hardware store since high school. Worked there all through college- I didn’t feel any smarter after UCC, did you? And I think I actually got a bit dumber from my bachelor’s… and I’m still at the hardware store, kinda scraping by. I keep trying to find something better, but nothing has worked out for two years, and I’m starting to think I’ll be kinda scraping by for the next forty years if I don’t do something about it. But I can’t do anything about it because all I can see is how trapped I feel and all the things I can’t accomplish. I gotta burn it all down so I can see what’s out there. Interviews are all on the phone and Zoom anyways- I can do them from the road.
“You get it, right? How long’re you gonna keep working here, dealing with Mrs. Mawson and getting nightmares from the doorbell? You don’t have any more of a future right now than I do. Come on! It’ll be an adventure. We’ll learn how to be brave. Carpe diem and all that.”
Josh was shaking his head long before Kevin finished. “No way.”
Belatedly, Kevin realized that other customers had come in and lined up behind him during his harangue. He had not even heard the bell jangle. “All right. Well, I’ll probably see you around before I head out.”
Two weeks later on Friday afternoon, Kevin trailed Mrs. Mawson into the gas station, his loaded F-250 looming behind her little Toyota. He pulled up to a gas pump while she went once more to the air machine. Like a repeat showing of a bad movie, she inserted the quarters, went into the convenience store, and returned with an extremely unhappy Josh in tow. In the meantime, Kevin fed the machine his credit card and started pumping.
Their ritual complete, Josh escaped Mrs. Mawson and walked over to Kevin, eying the packed truck enviously. The tent and other gear were placed conspicuously; the cover was neatly rolled up to allow a good view of the bed’s contents.
“I kind of wish I’d told you yes, now. All packed and ready to go?” Josh asked mournfully.
“Yeah. Just topping off the tank,” Kevin replied, voice carefully neutral.
Josh stuck his hands deep in his pockets. “Listen, Kevin, you don’t think- is there any way… I mean, if I said I wanted to go walkabout with you and we figure out what’s wrong with our lives and have an adventure and clear our heads and- would you be able to maybe, like, wait a couple of days so I could go, too?”
“Yup. I’m heading out Wednesday.” Kevin maintained his deadpan expression.
“Wait.” Josh held up a hand as he processed this information, confusion plastered on his face. “What?! Why are you all packed up today, then?”
“Oh, you know. Just wanted to load it all up, kinda see how it all fit, drive it around a little….” Kevin’s control slipped, and a satisfied smirk was the result.
“You son of a bitch! You just wanted me to see you leaving without me!”
Kevin shrugged one shoulder, hung up the nozzle, and smiled broadly as he twisted the gas cap back on. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“You son of a bitch,” Josh repeated, his tone more one of respect than outrage this time. He laughed. “Yes. Yes, it sure did.”