On The Open Road

Curtis Cigarette wasn’t his real name, of course. He’d been christened Curtis Christoff but in his late teenage years he was always asking anyone, “Got a cigarette?”At one point someone said “Uh-oh, here comes Curtis Cigarette,” and the name stuck.Curtis was a stoner who over time had tried almost every drug but always came back to weed. I don’t know if you can be a weed addict, but you sure can be a “getting high” addict. He smoked his first joint when he was fifteen and had been high for the greater part of the twelve years since then.He was thin as a reed but had somehow developed a muscular body. Since any money he happened to acquire went toward maintaining his high, there was very little way of getting food. He’d learned that hanging around the outside of supermarkets didn’t gain him much. Most people rightly assumed that money proffered wouldn’t end up filling his stomach, but if he loitered in the deli section he had better luck with a sympathetic person buying him a sandwich.There were times that he’d end up sneaking an apple or a banana into a pocket and that would be that day’s repast.His outward appearance usually kept people who glanced his way from seeing that he was really a very good-looking young man whose most striking feature was his eyes, which were beautifully shaped, ringed with thick lashes and a shade reminiscent of dark green jade. However, there were physical aspects that countered those eyes.On his left shoulder, he had a tattoo of a leaping tiger, claws and teeth bared, as if ready to kill you in two seconds.His right arm had ivy climbing up it from the wrist. His upper arm was adorned with a curvaceous flirt with big tits and ass and a slim waist, apparently dancing like Salome but without her seventh veil. She was strangely surrounded by red flames.In cursive script were the words to the Bee Gees’ song “How do You Mend a Broken Heart?” curving around his lower left arm. On the left half on his chest, Captain America leaped at you much as the tiger on his shoulder did. On the right half were two pistols with their barrels crossed forming an X.Although he didn’t have enough facial hair to warrant one, he had a scruffy beard, mainly because he never held on to the money long enough to buy a razor. His one saving grace was that he managed to keep his body clean by bathing in the public restrooms he could manage to lock himself into for long enough. He devised different ways to clean his clothes.Once he was discovered naked in an all-night laundromat. The responding officers took his almost dry clothes from the dryer and had him dress before arresting him for indecent exposure.He’d hitched up with his female counterpart five years ago and he and Maggie had been together since. They’d slowly wound their way from Memphis down to Mobile. They were there when Katrina hit. Two years later they ended up in the Big Easy.Their way of life threw them into the virtual path of motorcyclist Big Stag, who weighed twice as much as Curtis and whose superior size gave him more skin surface to decorate with tattoos. His beard succeeded where Curtis’ failed and his eyes were hidden by aviator glasses which never left his face.He bought a helmet for Maggie, hoisted her onto his hog behind him and they rode off into the sunset, as they say. Curtis was alone again.As hurricane season neared Curtis decided he didn’t want to stick around to see what was going to happen that year. He began hitching rides on US 10 in the direction of San Diego. The first day got him west of Houston where he appeared to be stranded.As the sun rose higher in the sky the next morning the temperature rose with it. He rolled a joint and looked east into the sun for any cars or trucks Haramidere escort bayan coming his way.The name Elwood Marcus didn’t fit the man who bore it, which he well knew. He’d renamed himself “Titus” and had it emblazoned in ornate gold lettering on the deep burgundy sides of the cab of his big rig.He’d been driving a rig for the last dozen of his forty-two years, spending the greatest part of the year on the road crossing from one side of the country to the other.He was tall with a broad chest and arms that bulged against shirt sleeves which were always too tight. Reddish brown curly hair peeked out from where the top three buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. In many women’s opinions his quiet, brute masculinity made up for any lack of handsomeness he might suffer.He’d left Baton Rouge just after dawn and it was almost mid-day when he made out the slight figure standing by the highway far up ahead. As he drew nearer and became sure that it was a hitch-hiker he slowed and looked in his mirrors to make sure there was no one behind him. The interstate was empty.He applied the air-brake and brought the eighteen-wheeler to a halt just past where the young man stood. Curtis sprinted to the open door, took off his backpack, tossing it up onto the seat, clambered up and swung his slight frame into the cab.He pulled the door to as he puffed out, “Thanks. It’s getting hot out there.”“Where you headin’ to?” Titus asked.“Dunno. San Diego, I guess.”“Well, I’m not going there. I’m headin’ to L.A. but I can get you near there.”“Whatever,” Curtis said.“I’m Titus.”“Curtis.”Titus glanced at him several times, sizing him up. He saw C. C. tattooed on the back of his left hand.“What’s the C. C. for”“My ‘nitials.”“Huh, Curtis C.”A couple of minutes passed and Titus chuckled.“Courtesy. That’s what I’ll call you.”They rode in silence. Half an hour passed and Curtis pulled out his weed and rolled a joint. Titus cut his eyes over, watching him. Curtis pulled out matches.“You really gonna smoke that shit in here?”Curtis looked at him as if he didn’t understand the question.“You gonna do that then put the window down. I don’t want no contact high. I gotta have my wits to steer this thing.” When the sun had passed the meridian Titus said, “You gettin’ hungry?”“Shit, yeah,” Curtis said.He’d been hungry for almost twenty-four hours.“You got any money?”Curtis shrugged and shook his head at the same time, followed by, “No.”Titus scoffed. “Huh, that figures.”A rest stop came into view. He pulled the rig off the highway and parked in the designated area. They climbed down and Titus bought two plastic-wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches and two coffees. They sat on a bench in the shade and ate.“You okay?”Curtis shrugged.“Still hungry?”Curtis nodded.Titus bought another sandwich and a Milky Way bar. When he returned to the bench, Curtis wasn’t there. He figured he’d gone into the men’s room. He waited as the minutes ticked by. Finally, he got up and went in to see what the hold-up was.Curtis was standing shirtless at a sink splashing water on his body. The floor around him was covered with puddles. Other men were using the sinks as far from him as they could get so as not to get wet.Titus stood and watched him, noting that he was well-built for someone who was obviously undernourished. Curtis turned off the water and pulled handfuls of paper towels from the dispenser. As he dried off he dropped the used towels on the floor and used his foot to move them around to sop up the puddles.He pulled his shirt back on and saw Titus watching him. He didn’t offer an explanation but walked past him and went outside. Titus followed him.“Here,” he said, and handed Escort İkitelli Curtis the sandwich and candy bar. “I gotta take a piss.”He turned and went back into the men’s room to relieve himself.They got on the road again. They rode in silence for fifteen minutes.Titus looked at Curtis. He turned his eyes back to the highway and then back at Curtis.“You know, you could say ‘Thanks’. It wouldn’t kill you.”“Oh, thanks,” Curtis, sullenly said.After a minute of silence, Curtis pulled out his weed and rolled another joint.“Watcha gonna do when you run out of that?”Curtis looked at him. Titus chuckled.“Hadn’t thought about that, huh?”More minutes clicked by.Titus said, “I wanna ask you somethin’. Where’s your family?”Curtis shrugged.‘Great,’ thought Titus.“You married?”Curtis shook his head.“Hey, Courtesy, talk to me. I picked you up for some companionship.”“No,” Curtis said.“No, what?”“Married. I’m not.”“Got a girlfriend?”“Not anymore.”“What happened?”“Don’t know. She went off with some other guy.”“What? She quit a good-looking guy like you? He musta been a movie star.”“Huh!” Curtis snorted out.“Well, she musta been crazy. You’re better off without her. You get to California and you’re gonna have those surfer girls all over you. You like that?”Curtis shrugged again.“Courtesy, Courtesy, Courtesy. You’re gonna fry your brain with that shit. Maybe too late.”The sun was in their eyes as it sunk towards the horizon.“I’m gonna stop in Sonora and catch some winks. I don’t believe in killin’ myself just to make good time.”They pulled off at the exit and took another road until he came to a truck stop called Road Rangers. He slowed and turned in, coming to a stop a dozen yards from the main building.“I got good news for you. You can take a shower here. I saw you cleanin’ up this afternoon, so I think you might appreciate that.”For the first time that day, Curtis smiled.“But I’m starvin’. I’m gonna eat first. How ‘bout you?”“Are you paying?”“Look, Courtesy, as far as I can see, you don’t have a pot to piss in. Either I have to pay or kick you out here in the middle of Texas, or watch you slowly starve. Those are my choices, and I’m a good guy. You take in a stray dog you have to feed that stray dog. Besides, I got faith that you’ll find a way to pay me back someday.”Titus climbed down from the cab and walked away. He stopped and looked back at the rig. Curtis opened the door on the passenger side. Titus didn’t wait for him. He figured he’d catch up.When they’d finished eating, they went back to the rig to get clean clothes to change into. Titus climbed behind the seats. Curtis rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a pair of scanty, brightly-colored briefs. He’d bought a pack of three for two dollars at a K Mart going-out-of-business sale. He found an athletic tank top but the only other pair of jeans he had were dirtier than the ones he was wearing.A thought came into his head. He looked at Titus.“Where are you going to sleep? Do they have rooms here?”“No, not here, but I don’t pay for rooms. I sleep in back here,” Titus said. “This is my bedroom.”Curtis got on his knees and looked over the back of his seat. He saw the small space which was mainly occupied by a mattress. Surrounding it were some cubby holes and what looked like a small TV built into the wall.“Oh,” Curtis uttered. “Where can I sleep?”‘Well, the only thing I can come up with is that we share this. It’ll be a tight squeeze but we oughta be able to handle it.” He climbed out of the space. “Unless you can come up with a better idea?”They went to the showers. When they finished bathing and had redressed Titus handed his dirty clothes to Curtis.“Here, take these back to the Çapa escort truck. It’s open. I need to pick up some things here. I’ll be there in a minute.”He went in the convenience store part of the complex and bought a gallon of milk, some bananas, four packages of beef jerky and a six-pack of Dos Equis beer. He got in the truck and put everything into the small refrigerator in the back.”You want a beer?” he asked, holding up a bottle for Curtis to see. “Or don’t you drink? Maybe that stuff you smoke is all you need.”Curtis looked at him and held up his ziplock bag of weed.“You want a joint? Or a toke, maybe?”“No, thanks. It ain’t that I’m against weed, sort of. It’s that I don’t get smoking anything. Lungs weren’t meant to handle smoke. You know, when a house burns down, the people that die in there don’t get burned to death. It’s the smoke kills them long ‘fore the fire gets to ‘em.”“Give me a beer,” Curtis responded.Titus uncapped one and handed it to Curtis. They sat quietly drinking with Curtis inhaling deeply from the joint he’d rolled and lit. When they finished the first beer Titus opened two more. When those were gone Titus got out of the truck and took the empty bottles and walked them over to where there were a couple of dumpsters. He tossed them in and returned to the truck.“Okay, Courtesy, my friend. It’s time to turn in, but if you’re gonna sleep with me you gotta get outta them jeans. First, it’s too hot to sleep in clothes. Second, they’re filthy and are beginning to stink. So shuck ‘em and hang ‘em on one of the mirrors to air out.”He climbed in the back and stripped down to his underwear. Curtis looked around to see if there were any people lurking in the dark. Satisfied that they were alone, he pulled off his jeans and draped them over a rear-view mirror that stuck out from the door. He climbed in the truck and looked at Titus.“Come on, Courtesy. I’m not gonna bite. Oh, if durin’ the night you gotta piss, don’t you dare do it on my mattress. You get your skinny ass out there, ya hear?”Curtis climbed in the back.“Why do you wear those old-man shorts?”“These? They aren’t for old men. Lots of young guys wear ‘em. When you’re riding the road all day and your junk is being jiggled for hours, you want the boys to be free to breathe, not cooped up in something like what you got on. Those things hardly cover your ass.”Curtis decided not to say anymore. Titus threw the top sheet back.“You sleep next to the wall. You don’t need nearly as much room as I do.”They got settled in and Titus turned off the light. Curtis was asleep in merely minutes. Titus took a little longer. The silence of the desert night was occasionally broken by an eighteen-wheeler pulling in to the truck stop.One of those intruded on Titus’ sleep and he awoke. He looked at the clock and rolled over so that he was facing in the opposite direction, Curtis’ back in front of him. He moved a hand up and scratched his nose. As he lowered his hand it brushed against Curtis’ back.He moved his hand back up and gently touched the smooth skin with his knuckles again. laid his palm on the young man’s shoulder and slowly ran it down his arm, feeling the strong muscle under the soft flesh. brought his hand back up to the shoulder and the side of Curtis’ neck. He moved his hand from side to side letting his fingers tenderly pull the hairs on the nape of his neck.He sensed a slight change in Curtis’ breathing.”Are you awake?” he quietly asked.Curtis responded with an equally quiet “Ummm.””You okay?”Another, “Ummm.”Once again he slipped his hand down the length of his back but this time continued down and felt the touch of the silky briefs that covered his firm buttocks. Titus delicately squeezed one of Curtis’ butt cheeks. He let it go and moved his hand the few inches to the elastic waistband. He slid his hand under the band and a thrill ran through his groin as he encountered the downy flesh of the two mounds separated by a slit. He moved his hand in a circle and let his fingers slip into the crevice.