Emily stood in the gas station parking lot, next to a dusty air pump that read FREE AIR / AIRE GRATIS in green block letters. Unsure of how to attach the coiling hose to the sagging tire at her feet, she leaned against the side of the car, resting her head. Sam was still asleep, she saw through the window. He was strapped into his car seat, head tilted and eyelids twitching in the air conditioning. Emily felt the desire to let her own eyes flutter shut in the heat of the day.
While Sam had been babbling about his day at preschool last night, Emily received a call. She put down the iron, careful not to burn her work blouses, when she heard the phone ring. When Emily answered, her mother was on the other end of the line, telling her that her father had suffered from a stroke and that he was dying. Her son was still talking and ducking around her feet, so she shushed him and asked her mother to repeat herself.
“Emily, how fast can you get here?” her mother had asked.
“I’ll leave tomorrow,” she replied, her mind racing. “We’ll be there, don’t worry, Mom.”
They had been an hour away from Sahuarita when a bright yellow exclamation point appeared on the dashboard with a ding, jolting her out of dismal thoughts about sleeping at the hospital. She had pulled into the next gas station and grabbed the owner’s manual from the glove box. The yellow symbol apparently meant LOW TIRE PRESSURE.
Emily crouched to inspect the tire again. The rubber was deflated, and the metal hubcap almost reached the asphalt. With tears forming in her eyes, she realized that the air pump wouldn’t help when a voice came from the direction of the convenience store across the lot.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
Emily turned to see a teenaged boy, sweating in the heat of the afternoon. He wore an old white t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. His sneakers were coated in red dust.
“Excuse me, could I please get a ride into town?” he asked, moving closer. Emily stood and gripped the open car door between them. She glanced around the gas station and saw that she was the only customer.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really in a hurry,” she answered, glancing over her shoulder at her son, who shifted in his sleep in the back seat.
“Please. I need to get to Sahuarita.” His voice was quiet, but he town’s name flowed out of his mouth, unlike the way Emily’s mother had said it over the phone the night before—“We’re at Sa-ha-riduh General.”
Emily remembered her mother telling her that they couldn’t be sure how much time was left. Sweat began to gather under her arms. “No, I’m sorry.” She swallowed against the burning in her throat. “You see, my father is in the hospital. I’ve got to get straight there.”
“Please, ma’am. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t desperate. I won’t talk during the ride, I promise.” His eyes shined like new pennies in the sunlight.
Emily shook her head. “I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to take care of this now,” she said, gesturing to the sagging front tire. “I’ve got a flat.” Not waiting for his response, she turned to check the back for a spare.
“What’s going on, Mommy?” Sam asked. She was surprised to see him awake and sitting up straight.
“I’ve gotta fix the tire now, sweetie, and then we’re heading to the hospital,” she whispered to him.
“What’s wrong with the tire?”
“It needs changing. Just sit tight, this won’t take long.”
As she walked to the trunk of the car, she could tell the boy was watching her. He kept shuffling his sneakers against the dusty asphalt. “I won’t say a word,” he insisted.
Emily ignored him and opened the trunk of her car to find the spare tire lying under a tarp next to their suitcases.
She didn’t know how to change a tire, though she had always meant to learn. Rob had promised to teach her dozens of times, but he was always busy with work. On Thanksgiving Day two years ago, during the last trip they took together, she dozed off for a few seconds and hit a piece of metal on the highway. Emily had offered to help, but Rob had just yelled for her to stay in the car. “We’re already running late. I don’t need you helping anymore.” She waited in the car, with Sam wide-eyed and silent in the back seat.
Emily let her eyes close. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Gritting her teeth, she placed her hands on either side of the tire and tried to lift it out of the car. It was heavier than she expected.
Coming closer, the boy spoke behind her. “Here. Let me get it.” He waited.
She hesitated before stepping back and crossing her arms, allowing the boy to reach into the trunk. He lumbered off with the spare.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked as he crouched to inspect the flat.
“I can take care of this in no time. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?” Emily asked.
“Really, I got it,” the boy said. He retrieved a toolbox from the trunk and unloaded a wrench and a metal jack.
“If you’re sure,” she tried again, but the boy didn’t respond.
Emily stood in the heat of the day. She felt as helpless as a child watching him fix her tire. The weight of the wallet in her pocket reminded her that she had withdrawn most of her savings early that morning so that she could live with her mother for a few months.
“Sam,” she poked her head in the car door and unlatched his seat belt. “Let’s go inside and get a slushie, okay?”
“Mommy, who’s that kid?” Sam asked, climbing out of the car.
“He’s going to help us change the tire, Sam. And it’s not polite to ask questions like that.”
The boy shrugged and began to remove the hubcap.
When they came back outside, the boy was sweating as he continued to work. The car hulked like an animal carcass on the hot asphalt. Emily stood watching, holding her son’s hand as he sipped his drink.
When the boy finished, he stood and wiped his hands on his greasy jeans.
“I want to thank you for doing this. Here,” Emily said, holding out a cherry slushie for him.
The boy hesitated. “It was no problem, ma’am. Really.” His brows furrowed as he spoke.
The slushie was melting in its plastic cup. Icy condensation coated Emily’s palm. “Look, kid, just take it,” she said.
He reached out to take the drink, then began to slurp up the red juice, ignoring the straw. While he drank, Emily squatted to inspect the new tire. The kid had done the job. She sighed and tightened the ponytail hanging against her sweaty neck. “Sam, get in the car,” she said.
When Sam was buckled in, Emily and the teenaged boy stood in the parking lot. Together, they lifted the flat tire and carried it to the back. When they were done, the boy didn’t walk away. Emily smiled.
“Where in Sahuarita?” she asked him, closing the trunk.
“Wherever you’re going, just drop me off there. I can walk.” His tongue was red from the drink, reminding Emily of her son.
“Where in Sahuarita?” she repeated. “You changed my tire.”
“And you bought me a slushie,” the boy replied. His expression didn’t change.
Emily almost laughed out loud. Her face ached as she restrained it. “Okay, get in.”
The boy climbed in the passenger side and buckled up. When Emily sat down in the car, his eyes were closed, and his head was thrown back against the seat. A slice of afternoon sun had settled across his face.
“Sam,” she whispered, “we’re taking him to town with us, okay?”
Sam was inspecting the remains of his slushie. “Okay,” he replied.
“Let’s try to be quiet, now. He’s sleeping.” She pulled the car out of the parking lot, avoiding all the places where the asphalt was damaged and rough, and swung onto the winding desert highway. She drove towards the mountain peaks hovering in the distant blue sky ahead.
Nikki Horton
Alloy 