Rita Royale. Terry Jr. Anderson
nodded. “Yes.”
“John died a year ago today. I bet my sister is sitting there worried about me and thinking about him. I told her to move to Alberta and stay with me, but she loves her house in the hills. Maybe she was right to stay there.”
“Safer there than in the cities.”
“So half the kids in your school joined this Muslim thing?”
She nodded again. “Yes. Its more than a thing. Its some kind of mind cult or something. One of my friends is a lesbian and she joined them. They kill lesbians and she still joined.”
“Are these Muslims really that bad?”
Sarah narrowed her eyes somewhat. “You really don’t follow what’s going on in this country and around the world, do you?”
Rita shook her head. “I did once. Not anymore. I hate politics.”
“Well these savages give their women clitorectomies. Even little girls. Did you know their so called prophet Mohammed married a little girl and had sex with her when she was nine years old? They have a name for guys like that.”
“That’s sick. When did this happen?”
“Its still happening, but this so called prophet lived in the seventh century. He was the one who started this cult. Followed some moon god named Allah.”
Rita shook her head again. “Moon god?”
“Yeah, a moon god. A cult lead by a dead camel jockey who called the moon god. They’re still stuck in the seventh century.”
“One of them held a sign saying kill the Jews. I’m half Jewish.”
“Then they really hate you, Rita. A Jewish woman? I’d say you would have zero chance of living if these bastards take over.”
Rita thought for a moment. “Then they can’t win.”
“I don’t know. So many people are following them now. My family is Christian. Did you know that Muslims call Christians pigs and Jews apes? Or maybe the other way around, I can’t remember, but they hate us. They’re killing Christians and Jews all around the world. They won’t let us live if they take over this country.”
“Well, there’s probably not many Muslims around these parts.”
Sarah squinted to see her better. “Don’t bet on it. My mother told me that one guy I dated as a teenager has joined them. He drives around with his buddies with signs just like the ones back there in Medicine Hat.”
“I guess he’s not too popular.”
“I don’t know. My dad has guns. His neighbors too. I hope he has a plan.”
The sound of a vehicle’s tires singing on the pavement caught their attention. Rita removed her pistol from the holster, stood to her feet and watched the lights getting closer. She looked at Sarah. “Go other there. Crouch down behind that sage bush.”
“What about you?”
“I have a gun. He’s getting closer. Go hide now.”
Sarah walked away quickly while Rita watched the lights nearing. She slipped the pistol inside the waist of her black denim jeans, pulled her t-shirt lower to hide it. Stood waiting.
An old Chev pickup slowed to a stop on the highway. The driver left his truck running and got out his door, walked around in front, looked at Rita. “Troubles, Miss?”
“Yes. I ran out of gas.”
He looked at the bike, partly visible from the truck headlights. “I have a can in the box. Regular gas okay?”
She smiled, relieved. “Yes, regular is perfect. Thanks.”
“I won’t be a minute.” He walked to the rear of the truck and lifted the red plastic container. Was soon back beside Rita and the motorcycle.
Rita opened the gas cap, took the container from the older man. He looked like a farmer. Salt of the Earth kind of guy. Too few left anymore. She poured the gas, smelled it mixing with the sage brush growing all around the area. Soon the container was empty.
“I hope that’s enough to get you to a station.”
“Thanks. My name’s Rita.”
“Jim Bowman. Were you planning on sleeping here tonight?”
“I guess I was.”
“Eastend is about twelve miles from here, you might find a room there. I’m not sure anymore. My farm is just over there a ways.” He pointed. “I have more gas and my wife likes company. You’d be welcome to spend the night.”
“I should be alright for fuel now.” She knew the tank was almost full, was pretty certain she could make it to Thompson lake. “But thanks for the offer.”
He stood looking at her for a few seconds. “You take care now, young lady. Watch for potholes. They’re everywhere.”
Rita smiled. “I will, Jim.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bill.
He shook his head. “I don’t want any money. You best keep that pistol close.” He glanced at the handle of the gun now visible, poking out from under her t-shirt.
She smiled. “I will.”
“So long.” He walked to the rear of his truck and tossed the empty gas container inside the box.
“Thanks again, Jim. You’re a gentleman.”
He laughed. “My wife might disagree with you on that, but thank you.” He climbed onto his seat, shut the door and drove slowly away.
Sarah walked out into the open and over to Rita. “I guess there are still nice people around.”
“Rather than leave now maybe we should stay here until morning. It would be late when we got to your parents’ place. And the potholes.”
Sarah nodded, looked at her cigar. It had gone out. “Well how often do I get to smoke Havana cigars and drink scotch with a beautiful biker chick?”
Rita laughed softly. “You’re getting drunk.”
“Maybe a little. I don’t care. I want to be drunk.”
Rita sat down on her sleeping bag, picked up her bottle of scotch, took a small drink, held the bottle out to Sarah. “Plenty left to get drunk on, kid.”
Neither woman got drunk, instead they sat up talking and listening to the coyotes sing until each of them crawled into their sleeping bags and fell fast asleep on the rough grass. If a vehicle drove by neither of them heard it pass, both dreaming beneath the Milky Way, the scent of sage surrounding them.
Chapter Two
Rita awoke at first light, her stomach feeling empty, her mouth in need of cleaning, the scotch and cigar tasting foul as she licked her teeth and gums and looked around at the clear morning. It was going to be another scorcher today, she thought.
The pair arrived at Thompson Lake shortly after nine, the entrance to the park manned with several local residents, one man carried a rifle. Two of the men recognized Sarah and let them pass through the gate and into the park.
Sarah’s folks were very grateful to Rita for bringing their daughter home safely and Sarah’s mother fixed the biggest breakfast Rita had ever seen. She sampled some of everything and when she pushed away from the table she was stuffed full like a wood tick. Ready to burst.
Sarah’s father filled her gas tank with fuel and her mother slipped a wrapped bacon and egg sandwich to Rita as she was ready to leave.
“So long, kid. Keep your folks safe.”
“I will. Too bad you have to leave. I think we would be great friends.”
Rita smiled.