Flash Fiction Contest: The Road

Jocelyn Brooks

1987 Fairfield Lane

Pearl, Mississippi 39208

Daniel retrieved the envelope, which had been lying buried beneath a stack of bills and junk mail for quite some time, as evidenced by the small sprinkling of dust upon the paperwork. Time stopped for the burly gentleman as he admired the delicate script of Miss Brooks, as if he were handling fine porcelain.

It had been roughly one year ago to this very moment that he had crossed paths with this woman. He was to think about the chance encounter every day, as the unreal emotions were seared into his very being. Daniel relaxed his taut shoulders and exhaled as he recollected the events from that summer in Mississippi of '08.

He thought back to the monotony of the road. That evening, Daniel had picked up a load of fasteners, crates, and assorted shards of metal from New Orleans, set to be delivered at Chicago within the next 72 hours. The young truck driver had completed the Chicago - Louisiana connection several times over the years and recognized every rest stop, exit, highway marker, and crease along Interstate 55 like the back of his hand.

Daniel exited the highway at Crystal Springs to gas up, consume his standard plain ham and cheese sandwich fare, and shut her down for the night at Joe's Truck Stop.

Tireless days on the road had hardened this everyday warrior into a loner - content to check the sports section, plan the route, and radio his dispatcher after a hearty meal.

"The Bears draft Matt Forte out of Tulane? Never heard of him."

At that moment, Daniel heard the coo of soft voices and schoolgirl giggling. Daniel was far from green and recognized the concept of working girls turning tricks on the road for pocket money. The man never took an interest to these exchanges and remained focused upon his paper.

"Cubs Lose. Of, course."

While drifting into thoughts of riding the el to Wrigley Field, the trucker felt a persistent tap upon this back shoulder, and aggressively wheeled around to confront this floosie - woman.

"Wha---"

The boiling rage evaporated from the hulking driver as he was confronted and immediately captivated by the definition of feminine grace. The Belle opened with the measured drawl of Southern manners:

"Mistuh. Ah thank ah made a wrung tuhn off tha Inuhstate. Do you know how to git to Gates-vuh?"

Daniel unfurled a tattered pocket map of Mississippi to help direct this young woman. He remained spellbound, if not intimidated by her pure beauty. The female had moseyed up to the counter without makeup and sported cut-off shorts, a white fitted top, red sandals, and aviator shades.

Her caramel skin, luscious hair, and soft curves effortlessly illuminated the drab interior and lightened the bawdy atmosphere of the station. Daniel shifted his focus away from these gentle looks to her airy, yet sensual fragrance and blurted out an invitation for her to join him for dinner at the booth.

"Why, ah wuld lyke that. Whut's yer name?"

"Daniel. Daniel Ryan."

The two began to make small talk and Daniel was to quickly appreciate the fact that this petite Belle was far from a cupcake. Jocelyn Brooks had lost everything amidst the wreckage of Hurricane Katrina, which ripped through her Gulf Coast home in 2005. She then moved to Jackson and was taking classes to become a nurse.

"A nurse, huh?"

Dan Ryan followed with a wry smile, as he entertained the fantasy of this woman catering to him while parading around in her nurse's outfit. No, that would never work. He would never see this woman again, he thought.

At that moment, Jocelyn turned on her Southern charms, whipped around her locks, bit her lips, and met his eyes for one solid count, before fluttering her eyelashes. She knew of this Blues club up the road towards Jackson and wanted to treat this stranger to a drink and a show per his help and good company.

"I guess it couldn't hurt."

She wanted to ride the Big Rig.

Miss Brooks sat captivated as the trucker waxed poetic about Lucille, the road, and City Life. The woman's large, doe-ish eyes continued to melt with affection, and the tension built with every lane marking flashing upon the concrete surface. Ryan felt her eyes glowering upon his chocolate muscles and noticed her womanly look of relaxed intrigue as she fell silent and began to shuffle about in her seat.

Daniel dug out an old D'Angelo compact disc to match the mood.

"I want some of your Brown sugar."

The two never quite made it to that jazz club up the road that night.

Flash Fiction Contest: The Road, Sources:

The State of Mississippi, http://www.mississippi.gov/

Mississippi Roads, http://www.mpbonline.org/television/series/ms-roads-contribute/main.htm

Mississippi University for Women, http://web2.muw.edu/index.php