Critique welcome
For Meg, The Black Hills were more than mountains. She carried a worn, marked-up copy of "Black Elk Speaks" in support of her belief that the hills were sacred, a center of things, possessing a mystical force that drew people toward them. All that may be so, or maybe Allen thought, she was just hustling herself the same way she grifted others by hyping the value of things, either way, he agreed on a trip to the hills.
They followed the mountains north toward Cheyenne then passed into Wyoming and out onto the Great Plains. Allen loved the vastness of the west, not so Meg. He could not get enough of open spaces. At the crest of long hills or where the road skirted the edge of a rise, he would pull over just to stand in the wind, looking out at the waves of dry grass rolling off into eternity. She would stay in the car.
That was one of the things about traveling with Meg; she drew energy from people; often taking so much that she rendered them helpless as rats in the eye of a Cobra. People had to be strong to hold their own with Meg, yet out on the road, in the lonely expanses of the west, Allen felt strong and she shrank; they reversed roles.
The last radio station was lost to static soon after turning off I25 onto Hwy 85 north of Cheyenne. It was happy slow going motoring through endless country making their own music with a light blue sky shining through the sun-roof and all the windows open to an air oddly humid for the high plains.
At one point Meg pointed to a brilliant white line riding high above a purple base and asked "Are those the Black Hills, can we see them from way out here?"
"No Meg, that's north, there are no mountains there, that's weather."
And weather it was, the violent summer weather that plagues the plains. Driving north, a thunderhead rushed south to meet them; in a few hours the big sky turned surreal shades of orange and green as hot white flashes of lightning crackled across the horizon. Within minutes of the lightning, large drops of rain splattered the windshield and the temperature suddenly dropped. The sky darkened, almost twitching with power as lighting cracked to ground all around them.
It then began to hail.
In Wyoming, during a summer storm, hail doesn't fall in pellets; it comes deadly as grapeshot from cannons, killing horses and cattle. They took a battering for a while but fortunately made it into Meriden Wyoming to shelter in a truck stop before suffering any significant damage.
Here Meg was in her element. "The Stop" sprawled across several buildings, all bustling with animated truckers and travelers coming off the road to seek protection from the storm. In the coffee shop, warmed by ovens from the chill of the storm, they lingered in a window booth with torn vinyl cushions and a turquoise formica table top. They waited for service, toying with silverware wrapped in paper napkins, listening to a juke box twanging old time country music while eyeing homemade pies under glass. Allen noted he was the only male not wearing boots.
Meg waded right in, striking up a conversation with the foursome in the next booth; locals headed to a horse show in Cheyenne. At first they mocked her clothes and hippie hair but she quickly won them over by wrangling the conversation toward the topic of horses - they ran with that and she had them eating out of her hand. Allen began to wonder how she was going to make this one pay.
They sat through a lot of country music waiting to order. With the storm, the place was busy. The waitress, a sweet looking kid about sixteen stopped by every quarter hour to apologize and rush off, so Allen and Meg settled in to learn more the art of showing horses then anyone would want to know.
They actually enjoyed the conversation but eventually the weather slackened. The horse people had to go. They tried to get the waitress to bring the check but finally, sick of nagging, just dropped some cash on the table and rushed off.
An instant later, the money was gone and Meg was grinning.
"Put it back"
"What?" she asked.
"We agreed from the start you wouldn't rip anybody off."
"So?"
"So put it back."
"Screw you."
By now Allen was getting pissed "You don't rip people off."
"hey, I've been ripping people off all week and you haven't complained. I didn't see you working for gas money. I did everything, you did jack shit."
"Take a look at who you are ripping off, Meg" pointing to the waitress.
"You mean Susie Cream Cheese, she's not hurting. All she wants is to find Mr. Right to knock out kids and spend a life reading Consumer Reports and loving Jesus. Screw her!"
"I don't get you at all, Meg. One minute, you like people, the next you're a snake. You really touched that woman in Elko and the boys; they're on the road to Nirvana. You have a gift for knowing what people want, what they need, why do you have to rip them off?"
"Needs, wants, yeah right... Read up on Buddhism: wanting is the source of all evil, when people start wanting they screw each other over."
"Like you, right?"
"I know what I am doing, they don't, they're sheep and that makes all the difference in the world. This whole culture is all about wanting - I just forage on that want. I shear sheep and I eat mutton, screw them!"
"No Meg, you just rationalize."
They glared at each other and in doing so Allen realized that he wanted nothing from her, or of her. For the first time since they met he was neither intimidated nor charmed by her.
"I get it."
"What?"
"What you said when we met. I know what I am about."
"Screw you, I'm going to take a piss then we're out of here, okay?"
"yeah"
She headed toward the restroom and Allen went back to the car. A strong wind, fragrant with the clean and uncomplicated scent of damp grass, gusted across the parking lot. Allen knew he had to rid myself of Meg, so he dumped her stuff out on the wet gravel and left her to fend for herself in a little town on the open plains in a thunderstorm.
***
The Volkswagen Beetle they drove out west deteriorated on the salted streets of Minneapolis. The floor rotted through, the sheet metal panels split and flapped in the breeze, yet the engine and trans-axial remained sound. Allen tried to sell it but buyers balked at the exterior and said no thanks. Then He thought of Meg and the way she worked magic in the mind.
He placed an ad in the Star-Tribune. "VW engine/trans-axial for sale, recently rebuilt, perfect for replacement - dune buggy - or tricycle, Bug attached. Best Offer"
The first caller rang at 3:00 AM; the next at 3:15 AM. By 5:00 AM he had best price. He told the guy, cash only - $777, seven hundreds, seven tens and seven ones.
This concludes a three part serial story.
Find the first two parts at:
© Greg Schiller, 2007
Author: Greg Schiller
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Comments: 29
ps: Nice reference to "Black Elk Speaks!" One of my favorite Native American stories.
Good on ya Greg. Loved the bug ending too.
I loved the Buddha:"the second truth is: suffering is caused by want". I would say here that wanting more then we need leads to suffering; leads to becoming the slaves of our own wishes and forgetting entirely the meaning of here and now.
10 shinning stars
love and light
"People had to be strong to hold their own with Meg, yet out on the road, in the lonely expanses of the west, I felt strong and she shrank; we reversed roles." Threw me a little as he seemed pretty strong arguing with her in the restaurant. So, a thought, maybe the argument should take place on the road, a feeling of his discomfort in the restaurant which gains enough strength when she leaves for the restroom that he's strong enough to leave her.
I assume the end should be $777.
Point taken about the resturant scene. Hmmm, I need to think about how to recraft that.
Always appreciate a good critique.
I really enjoyed this little serial, Greg. One small thing bugging me (pun intended). did 1960's era Beetles really have sunroofs?
The Beetle in this story was a 1964 with a wonderful, large, canvas sunroof. It was not a convertable, but had a sunroof in the truest sense of the word. They did tend to leak.
It was actually fairly good, the only joint for miles and miles. Ate then went to the john then on my way, felling good, as the dog never moved.
I always stop in at Little America for a pot roast open sandwich and some kind of pie and ice cream. The best little joint in the world, or at least it used to be.
About your story Greg, I don't know, but I think that you need some more words around where you mentioned 'you wouldn't rip any one off.' I feel that that needs some more justification. It was sort of a surprise.
Working for the favors is one thing, loafing and not doing anything for the favors another thing, but open ripping off others is another, and I feel that needs a bit more background in the previous chapter somewhere. Maybe a glance of discovery or something else.
But all in all 'tis ok.
engine etc. for $777.00 in cash..... When is the next one up?
Marilyn
Your new Fan,
Charles D
Your welcome.
Obviously it's up to you the writer, but I feel that the approach of the bad behavior could have been, either addressed or a bottled thought not said but mentioned, like I wonder how much of this unethical behavior Meg has in her. Maybe some sort of retort 'you do that all the time?' And another retort from Meg like 'my mom was like that and I am just her child.' Then the action in chapter 3 would be totally justified.
However, surprises are good at times.
And this is just my opinion, as it's your story
I do appreciate your thoughts on the story. I will be reworking the characters.
It was intriguing to watch Meg be the main character, but your morality to win out as the last one standing.
Thank you for a read that will leave me better than I started :)
I would like to say sorry for taking a while to get to your article. I have been away from gather for a while and I am finally getting to the 3000 plus emails I have awaiting me on here to go through. so I am starting from the most recent received to the first I ever received.... So now I am finally able to read your piece. Thank you for sending me the link to this article.
Now second thing:
I really liked your story at least this section of it. I havent checked the other sections of it yet. Still trying to make a dent in my messages that have been sent to me. In my opinion this was really well written. I liked it, great job hope your are keeping up the great work. I gave you a ten for your article. :o)