Hick by Andrea Portes Page A

She drops the cherry into the ground and snuffs it out by windshield wiping the front of her heel. She doesn’t seem to remember I’m still there.
    She sighs and looks back at her car. it’s a bright white LeBaron and propped up in the passenger seat is a giant, stuffed, yellow-and-white bunny rabbit. it’s just sitting there, looking out like it’s waiting for the burger girl to roller-skate over and hand over a tray of fries. it’s a human-size bunny rabbit with big black button eyes and a broken-off piece of thread where the nose is supposed to be. Itmust be at least six feet tall and there’s something kind of sinister about it. You get the feeling it’s just itching to hurl itself over to the driver’s side and drive right off.
    I look back over to my newfound angel, hoping for an explanation, but she’s half-way back to the car by now. Soon as she gets to the driver’s side, she opens the door and says, “Well, kid. Good luck. Stay straight. See ya around.”
    She gets in and starts the engine.
    Well, this is not how I imagined it. What sort of lady would just drive off into the night leaving some kid face down in the dirt? Her sort, I guess.
    “Hey, lady . . . wait up!”
    I get up fast as I can and run up to the driver’s side window, cracked open. She just sits there, dome light on, putting on lipstick in the rearview mirror like she’s got a date with the road. The bunny stares straight ahead, plotting into the windshield through his black button eyes.
    “Look, lady, I know you don’t know me and a pretty lady like you probably never does a favor for anyone, probably never has to, what with having the world on a string and whatnot . . .”
    She looks up from her lipstick.
    “Whattaya want, kid?”
    “Umm . . . wull . . .I wanna come with you, I guess. I want a ride.”
    “Well, as you can see, I’ve got company.” She gestures towards the bunny, taking out her compact and powdering her nose. The bunny stands his ground.
    “Please.”
    I make a face like the last dog left at the pound. I feel about two feet tall but I am not about to spend the rest of the night in the brambles.
    “Hmph.” She looks me up and down, weighing the pros and cons of having a tagalong. “Where you headed?”
    “Las Vegas.”
    She clicks her compact closed and looks at me.
    “Well, what a coincidence, so am I.”
    She smiles and all the sudden there’s this glow around her, like a halo or a hidden lamp, like she could block out the moon.
    “Get in. But just to warn you, I ain’t giving any handouts.”
    “That’s okay. I got my own . . . just a sec.” I run back to collect my worldly belongings, yelling over the motor, “I got plenty of money, so don’t worry, that’s the last thing you gotta worry about.” I look at the bunny rabbit in the passenger seat, waiting for some kind of cue. She stretches out back, unlatching the back-door lock. I throw my bag in and sit down proud, like I’m expecting her to throw me a bone.
    “Look, kid, lesson number one.”
    I slam the door.
    “You can’ go around telling people stuff like that.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like about money, and having plenty of it. That just marks you right there, understand?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Good. Don’t forget it. Hey, you like Patsy Cline?”
    “Who?”
    “Patsy Cline? Heard of her? Yes? No? Well, whatever, you betterlearn to like her cause that’s all you’re gonna be hearing from here to Las Vegas.”
    “Great.”
    “I’ll teach you the words if you want. You can croon along. Won’t mean nothing to you, though. Nothing means nothing until you get your heart broke.”
    We glide away into the night, leaving my little home away from home to the crickets and the ants. I lean back and listen to some song about seven lonely days making one lonely week. I press my head sideways against the window, looking up at the black sky and the bunny ears in front of me, wondering what and who will break my heart.

NINE
     
    So, what’s