Antigoddess

“You look like you’ve been on the road awhile,” he said with a nod to her clothes.

“Yeah,” she replied. “There was a sort of mix-up with my ride. A difference of opinion.”

He nodded and gave her an understanding smile.

“I wound up losing all of my bags. It’s been kind of a nightmare.”

“Well,” he said, and glanced up at the plastic, backlit menu. “To ease the blow, how about I buy you some lunch?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Athena replied. The restaurant had just switched over from serving breakfast and the smell of rubbery, overcooked eggs and cheese mingled with the grease of burgers. The smell was thick enough to coat her skin. She should have gone to Dunkin’ Donuts. As she opened her mouth to ask for a ride rather than lunch, Odysseus grabbed her by the elbow.

“Hey,” he said around a mouthful of chicken Parmesan flatbread. “I found us a ride.” He waved to the guy she’d been talking to, then looked at her. “Do you want to get food from here? I got an extra sandwich and some donut holes. We’re supposed to meet him in the lot. He drives a red Freightliner.”

* * *

“That was fast,” Athena said as they walked to the idling truck. Odysseus grinned. He always worked fast. Fast and clever. He opened the white paper bag. She fished out a donut hole and rolled it between her fingers, leaving a circular trail of sugar. She hadn’t eaten in a day, nothing at all except those few blackberries at The Three Sisters. She popped the donut into her mouth and it enlivened her taste buds. Her stomach rumbled, and she eyed the paper sack hungrily. He’d said something about an extra sandwich.

Odysseus waved at the driver through the window of the truck. He was older than the driver Athena had talked to, by a lot. His hair was gray, and he was heavy, maybe 260 pounds and still gaining. The buttons of his shirt looked like they were under extreme pressure. He smiled as they opened the door and climbed into the cab. Odysseus introduced her and she shook the driver’s hand. His name was Craig Melville, and he was doing a run from Minneapolis, with drops in Toledo and Buffalo. He could take them as far as that. After Buffalo, he’d drop his trailer and head for his home in Pennsylvania.

“Thanks again for the ride,” said Odysseus, and then, to Athena, “I told him what a jumble it’s been. He couldn’t believe that Jimmy actually got mad enough to leave us behind. But he doesn’t know Jimmy. Crazy bloke. I told you we shouldn’t have ridden back up to school with him.”

Athena smiled at Craig. “Well, I never thought he’d leave us either. I just hope he doesn’t throw our stuff out of the car before he gets to campus.”

Odysseus grinned. The lie came together naturally and nostalgia hit her in a warm wave. Side by side they were devious and slick.

“I wouldn’t worry about anything.” Craig checked his mirrors and situated his coffee thermos. “I’ve had plenty of crazy friends, and they always turn out right in the end. He’ll probably be damn sorry, the next time you see him.” He put the truck into gear and it jerked forward. He seemed nice enough. He told them about a few of his “crazy” friends; Athena listened and smiled while she ate the ham and cheese flatbread Odysseus had bought. While she chewed, weariness began to sink in again. The truck was nice and clean, and there was a sleeper in the back. She was about to ask Craig if she could use it when he tapped her on the knee.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You both look exhausted. Why don’t you sneak in the back and get some sleep? You’ll have plenty of time to keep me company after we get through Toledo.”

“Thank you,” she said, and was surprised by how much she meant it. It would have been nice to have something to give him in return, something more than a lie and polite conversation. She reached out for his hand. “You’re a very nice man, Craig,” she said. “I hope you have a lot of prosperity and good health.” Craig grinned, and they shook. When they touched, she thought she felt something small pass between them, some slight bit of warmth and electricity, moving from her skin into his.

Of course she might have imagined it. The blessing of a dying goddess probably wasn’t worth much. But at least she’d tried.

Odysseus held back the curtain between the cab and the sleeper. She lumbered into the back and sat down heavily on the small bed.

“Just give a shout if you want us to chip in for gas, or snacks or something,” Odysseus told Craig, then closed the curtain and sat down on the bunk.

“Should we talk now?” he asked softly. Whispering wasn’t necessary. Craig had turned on the strains of an oldies station, and the engine noise from the truck covered their voices well.