El autoestopista | cesarrampe

The Hitchhiker, the Fox and the Wheel

Two in the morning, dinner is over.

I walk home alone along the old road, where I never pass.

On the way, I meet someone who waves to me in the middle of the road.

A hitchhiker. I get scared, but I stop the car to pick him up.

Why do I always think of the worst?

“I'm from the old school, my friend,” he says. “I came to see my girlfriend and I ended up getting into trouble. One thing leads to another and you never stop drinking and you get into trouble.”

“That’s why I don’t ride my bike. I don’t want to get stopped… Hey, are you going to the town centre? I start work in half an hour and I have to get home to pick up what I need.”

“I work as a night security guard in a paper factory…

Thanks man. Nobody ever stops here.

You save my life.”

I leave the colleague where he is and continue.

Arriving home, something resembling a 'cat dog' appears from the forest.

It's a fox. Slow down.

The animal jumps onto the road. It appears to be disoriented.

He drives a few laps in front of me.

With the car stopped with the engine running, I observe.

It's beautiful.

It has a wide, curly tail, with a long snout and pointed ears.

We look at each other for a long time.

After a short while I start up and reach the dirt road that leads to my hostel, just two minutes from here.

I think the night was too short, that maybe I could have stayed a little longer having a drink with everyone.

However, days later I would tell myself that that night was like stepping into Eden.

I will also remember that note that, during dinner,

It has been circulating around the table until it reached me.

Today we celebrated the end of the first quarter.

We are studying the advanced cycle of gardening.

I have always liked plants, they speak for themselves and I,

from time to time, I talk to them.

I like to believe that there is life in each of its stems.

A drive that emerges from the depths and climbs straight to the sky.

I, who am made of clay, try to be infected by its green.

My name is Leon and my life revolves around making the decision to grow harmoniously like them, like plants, but with the sense of humor that they may not have.

As for dinner, the note said something like:

"I hope you achieve your goal tonight."

The hitchhiker must be clocking in already.

The fox, a late incursion.

I imagine being with her, chatting.

She makes me feel alive, especially when we're alone.

I feel inhibited in a group.

Already parked, I look at my phone repeatedly.

I decide to write his name on the notepad,

as the title of the story of a life that makes me fall in love.

At that, the device rings.

It's her.

I am baffled.

I fantasize that, for her, the night has also been short and she calls me to see each other

at this late hour of the night.

I pick up.

"Hello?"

He asks me if I'm close.

Just in case, I tell him that I was just leaving and that I'm not far away.

He explains to me that his van has broken down and that he has been calling all his flatmates, but no one is picking up the phone.

I do not hesitate to help you.

"Are you OK?

I'll be right back, I've already turned around."

He tells me that the wheel flew off while he was driving.

It hasn't gone any further, but it's in the middle of the road,

on a straight line between curves.

He has also tried calling a tow truck, but with no luck.

I hang up.

I think about the wheel accident and I relate it to a mania that I have had these days,

a small phobia that has been tormenting me while driving.

On several occasions I have seen my rear wheel rolling downhill.

“Which of your four wheels has come loose?”

- I forgot to ask him. “Are you sure you're okay?”

I'm about to get back on the asphalt.

Before leaving, I read on the screen the story that was left unfinished:

“Ariadne…

It cannot be written, in any case it has to happen.

I like you too much to make up this story.”

📷 from Creative Commons CC

📝 by Cesar Rampe