COLLEGE COEDS OF THE CORN
Part II: The Detour
They hadn't spoken in nearly an hour. With so many hours counted off on their cross-country drive, Vicky and Brett had had opportunities to argue several times over and after the last one had come to an unspoken agreement that silence was the best option for at least a little while.
What Brett finally said to break the silence was, "We've got to stop for gas soon."
She nodded, curly brown hair flopping around her face as she decided what to say next, then went with, "Kay. I could probably use something fresh to snack on."
"Same." He looked at the GPS, at the endless miles of nothing surrounding them, and internally crossed his fingers that they would find gas and food before the car or one of them gave out in the middle of the road.
There were ten more minutes of silence before Vicky got the first glimpse of the sign for a gas station. "Looks like that'll be it," she said, pointing towards the sign.
Brett followed her finger to watch the sign as it sped past them. "What was the town called?" he asked, looking back at the road.
"I think it was called Stradlin."
* * *
"I don't know if we're going to be able to get any gas here," Vicky said, looking through the windshield at the desolate building that stood silently at the edge of a cornfield.
"Yeah, I have my doubts too," Brett said, opening his door. "We have to at least try, though. Not sure we'll make it all the way across another Nebraska cornfield without it."
Vicky followed him out as he looked at the pumps, old-fashioned and with newer signs saying that customers had to pay inside first. They crossed the parking lot together, both arriving at the front door and seeing the sign another at the same time: "GAS IS FREE TODAY. HAVE A
GREAT
ONE!!!"
"Huh," Vicky said, crossing her arms at the sign.
"Yeah," Brett said, brows furrowing. "Do you suppose the snacks are free, too?"
Vicky laughed and said, "I guess we should see if the chips have signs on them, too."
Both smiling now, they pushed the door open and went into the store. It was as empty as the sign had suggested, nothing but a few creaks in the walls to give the impression that there was any life in the world at all. The lights were all off inside, the dusty sunlight leaking in through the windows revealing what would have been a dully-colored room even if all the bulbs had been blazing.
"Hello?" Vicky called, leaning her head into the little attached garage and finding it as empty as the store had been. "This is so weird."
"Midwest hospitality," Brett said, walking towards the counter. "It had to work in our favor eventually."
"No signs on the chips though," Vicky said, wandering down the miniscule aisles to one side of the counter. "Not that there are many left to choose from." She picked through the few small bags that still sat on the shelves and grabbed the couple of good flavors that had been left behind.
"They didn't leave any instructions behind either," Brett said, standing behind the counter and looking over the switches near the register. "I think... I think this should do it," he said, throwing one of the switches. There was no indication that he had been successful, but he headed outside to check the pump.
Vicky wandered past the counter, looking down at the controls. As Brett started pumping the gas outside a small light did blink on. This gave her more relief than she expected she needed as she saw Brett outside standing relaxed by the pump.
Looking at him framed by vintage Americana against the backdrop of endless cornfields she smiled, a small sense of the adventure that had sent them from New York City and moving to Seattle reawakened by the strange situation.
This
is
a good decision,
she reminded herself, taking one more look before walking past the counter and towards the two doors on the other side of the store.
The first door opened into a small, old, but surprisingly clean bathroom. She thought she should try to use it, but the second, still-unopened door made her nervous and she decided to look through there first, the situation still not entirely comfortable in her thoughts.
Knocking first and being met with no answer, Vicky found that the second door led into a small office. The old metal desk took up most of the floorspace, with various odds and ends stacked on shelves built wherever walls allowed them. There were pictures, magazines, antique tools, and at least one gun that she was able to see sitting high up on one of the shelves. A tiny window in the back let in the only light but did nothing to relieve the thickness of the air as she squeezed around the desk and checked to see if there were any indications of what was going on there.
Her eyes widened when she saw what it looked like
had
been going on there. Opened on the surface of the desk was an old centerfold of a woman in red, her panties cut away to reveal a bushy pussy, pulling down her bra to reveal big fake breasts, sitting wearing high heels on a toolbox in a garage with her legs spread wide to reveal a hint of pink. She was licking her deep red lips, her darkly tanned face covered in heavy makeup surrounded by a thick fake blonde perm.
I wonder if
this
is why the store's empty...
Vicky wondered. She began to turn away when she glanced down and saw a shockingly large stain stretching from the seat of the chair, down to the floor, and all the way up to the edge of the desk. Her eyebrows lifted in appreciation at the size of the load that had been left behind, finding herself unable to look away from it.
There's so much of it... that
has
to... that
has
