Do Ghosts Only Ride By Night?

There are many things that can give a man pleasure. One of them is completing a difficult job. Bobby Gene Nelson had just completed such a job. He had finished tightening the last bolt of a transmission rebuild and was washing his hands in the deep sink in one corner of the garage. After lunch he would take it out on the road before having the office call the customer.

"Hey, Bobby Gene! Come on over here," the auto repair shop's owner was standing just outside one of the two garage bay doors. A slender woman Bobby Gene had never seen before was standing next to him. She appeared to be thirty something. Grabbing a towel, Bobby Gene sauntered across the concrete floor in that cocky manner that only young 'good ole boys' can pull off.

"This is Miss... So Past?" the portly proprietor said, gesturing towards her with the short stogie that he was forever chewing. She was pale with her jet black hair cut in a page-boy style and over-sized round dark eyes. Her gray dress had short sleeves, but the hem reached all the way down to her ankles.

"Szopas," the woman replied in a soft, whispery voice. But she nodded her head as she spoke, as if to indicate 'close enough'.

"She's looking to buy that used car." There was a bright red, 2010 Honda Civic behind them, "And she wanted to have a mechanic check it out first. O'Riley's Car-A-Lot recommend us. Before we waste time looking under the hood, go give it a spin."

"Now?" Bobby Gene asked, looking behind him at the clock on the back wall of the garage. "I was just about to go to lunch."

"How long is it gonna take you to drive out to the lake and back?" the shop owner called back as he walked towards the office, the cigar already clamped between his chops. "If you are a few minutes late, just extend your time on the other end."

The woman looked upset, "I am sorry, Mister Bobby Gene." She had some sort of strange, foreign sounding accent that Bobby Gene had never heard before. "I did not mean to interfere with your feeding routine. Feeding is very important."

"Don't worry about it," he flashed a lop-sided grin, heading around to the driver side. "If we don't complain to Gator... er, Mister McMaster, he thinks he's being too easy on us."

The keys were in the ignition, but before he could turn on the car, Miss Szopas opened the passenger door and asked, "Might I ride with you, Mister Bobby Gene?"

"It's your car." He waited until she had gotten in before turning the key. The engine caught immediately. "Or it will be if it's any good and you decide to buy her." Backing the car up and then whipping the wheel around as he shifted into drive, he told her, "And it's just Bobby Gene... Or Bobby. No mister." She nodded silently at that.

The ride out to the lake was silent. Bobby Gene was focused on listening for any unusual sounds and Miss Szopas sat demurely with her hands folded in her lap, slowly turning her head from side to side, watching the pine trees and oaks whizzing by. When they came over the last rise to the lake, Miss Szopas suddenly became alive. Sitting forward in her seat, she exclaimed, "That looks like my lake back home." Turning to her driver she asked, "Please, Mister Bob... I mean," she lowered her eyes, "Bobby. Could we stop here for a bit?"

With a shrug Bobby Gene drove up close to the lake, put the car in park, and killed the engine. They both got out and Miss Szopas gazed at the lake almost in rapture. "Oh, sometimes I miss my homeland so much. It is nice in America but," she paused as if searching for the right word. "Lonely." Another pause and she looked at him with a sidelong glance, not facing him directly. "Do you ever get lonely, Bobby?"

With a pleasant scoff he replied, "I reckon everyone does once in awhile." Then he scoffed again; this time not so pleasantly. "Especially since Thelma Lou broke up with me."

"She was your... girl?" Miss Szopas asked, not certain of the exact word she was looking for. She took a few steps to stand directly in front of him. "How long ago was that?"

"About six months now, I guess." She had the strangest looking eyes. So dark they almost looked like a deep shade of purple. Her black lashes fluttered as she looked down at the grass and then back up to him. "But you probably have plenty of other girls you are seeing?"

Bobby Gene took a deep breath, filling his lungs with so much air that his blue tee-shirt tightened. "Naw... I just ain't had... had the appetite for it."

"Oh, but you should not ignore your appetites," Miss Szopas replied. "And six months is far, far too long for a young, healthy man like yourself to go without yielding to his appetite."

What she did next almost caused Bobby Gene to jump back. He didn't, but his arms half raised, as if to defend himself, or push her away, or something. For she was un-buckling his belt.