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  The Rental

  By Shain Knowles

  Copyright 2011

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  The Rental

  Guilt laid on thick is a specialty of John’s Aunt Danielle. She sits there droning on about how he had missed his uncle’s last birthday and hadn’t called when she went to the emergency room last spring. John smiles and promises he’ll call at least once a week, and he’ll be sure to come back for a visit as soon as he can. His aunt kisses his cheek saying, “You don’t have to be such a stranger. Be a good boy.”

  John does love his mother’s backhanded sister. Leaving each time seems a chore for him, but had become less of a burden since his marriage to Jan. She takes a little of the attention from him, giving Aunt Danielle someone new to attack after ten years of only having John and her husband to target.

  John’s Uncle Saul was always a quiet man during the five years he lived with them, and after he returned from university, nothing had changed in that department. John always figured Saul kept silent as much as possible fearing he might let them know he thought they were all crazy. He’d married into the situation which meant that he had chosen to help raise a kid that wasn’t his. That meant more to John than anything anyone else had ever done for him. Saul has the complete and uncompromising respect of his nephew. Even though his uncle might never know the full extent of John’s feelings for him, Saul continues to believe that the boy will one day make a good man.

  John and Jan say their final goodbyes. In their rental car they begin their drive home across three states. From Florida to South Carolina, along the Atlantic coast, straight up interstate 95. John had figured it would be a busy day on the roads after the Fourth so they had waited until three to head home under a hot July sun.

  “Man, she is impossible. I didn’t think you were gonna make it. It’s like she thinks she can guilt you into leaving me to live with her” Jan turns to look at her husband as she speaks. “Besides, you’re twenty-eight, not a kid. I’m glad it was only a week and it will be at least Thanksgiving before I have to laugh at one of her lame jokes.” Jan giggles a little to herself, thinking how much funnier she is than that old hag of an aunt in-law. John sighs as his wife amuses herself at his aunt’s expense.

  Jan can see the frustration she’s causing John. “What do you think? You think she’s funny and sweet?” Jan smiles a little before her teeth grind.

  “She is my aunt. You know, she raised me after my parents died. So I’m not exactly unbiased.” Smiling on the inside, John turns the volume up on the radio. Jan turns away frustrated, folding her arms across her chest and looks out at the passing cars. She reads the signs as they go by thinking about how insanely crazy John’s aunt makes her. The guilt, shame, and of course, the selfishness the old bat tries so hard to make Jan feel for loving her nephew. She vows never to give in to the pressure of feeling bad for that relic of a demon woman.

  John sets the cruise control five miles over the posted speed limit and hums along with the radio. He wonders about his uncle’s health. Saul hadn’t looked good, and Aunt Danielle had said he’d been to the hospital twice since his last visit. The guy wasn’t getting any younger, but fifty-eight isn’t that old with all the medical advancements at our disposal. Of course, John thinks, there was the fact that Saul had lived nearly thirty of his fifty-eight years with his aunt. That might just wear a man out.

  The couple stops just before the Georgia border for the restroom, snacks, and gas. John takes a sip of his cold soda as he pulls back onto the interstate. Now he would be okay to drive another two hours, if his charming wife allowed him too.

  “John, I’m sorry but your aunt really gets under my skin,” Jan sincerely says.

  “I know sweetie. It’s alright. I’m just worried about Uncle Saul. That’s all. He didn’t look all that great, did he?” John asks.

  “No, he seemed tired. You know, more so then usual.” Jan almost adds that he might be just ready to get away from that evil wife of his, but she keeps that to herself. John is always patient with both Danielle and me, so I’ll be nice. No need to point out my theories on what the problem is in the family.

  “Yeah, that’s it, he’s tired. They’re probably working him to death down at the post office. That’s all it is. I’m sure. Anyway, thank you for being so kind to Aunt Danielle. You really are too good to me,” John smiles at Jan while she thinks, what’s killing the man is that they don’t keep him at work long enough.

  The miles tick by at a steady pace and John thinks they are making really good time, especially considering the size of his wife’s bladder. That woman needs to pee every hour on the hour. But he loves her even with her flaws.

  She caught his eye the first time he saw her. It was his third year in college, a time when things had finally begun to come together for a young John Forester. He had gotten over his ex-girlfriend Susan, and was passing all his classes. One day he saw Jan leaning against a post outside his apartment building. Jan swayed, almost twirling, as she hung onto the dirty old post. He was breathless watching her smiling with her shiny dark hair blowing freely behind her as she swung back and forth, arms looped around the bird dropping-covered wooden pole. That was seven years ago, but he still saw her that way, young and beautiful.

  On the dash a red light begins to blink. John stares down at the engine-shaped red glow flashing on and off.

  “It’s the engine light.”

  “What’s that?” Jan had dozed off a couple of miles back.

  “The engine light is on. That’s what,” John could feel the tension building between his shoulder blades as the muscles tighten with every flicker of the light.

  “I can’t believe this. It’s a rental! It should be in good working order before you send folks out on a cross country trip,” he shakes his fist futilely at the light as he curses the rental company.

  “Is it bad? Where are we?” Jan peers out of the windshield, nervously rubbing her hands against her thighs.

  “I don’t know. I went to school to study art, not auto maintenance, and we are between nowhere and fuckin’ nowhere,” John says as another light comes on, solid red next to the flashing engine picture.

  The second light is accompanied by a loud clunking sound from beneath the hood of the car. John feels the speed dropping, and sees it on the speedometer. With a dash full of lights warning him of impending doom, he pulls the car onto the shoulder of the highway and coasts to a stop in silence, pressing down hard on the unassisted brake pedal.

  “What has happened, John? Why did you stop?” Jan says, staring out at an empty horizon.

  “The car died. Didn’t you hear that noise? That was a bad sound, like a car dying,” John pulls the hood release and opens his door. “I’m going to have a look while there is still some light.” He closes the door behind him before Jan can respond.

  John knows nothing about cars, except the little he learned from his buddy Jake back in high school. Jake was a cool guy who would hang out at his girlfriend’s parents’ home which was next door to John. He was two years older than John, but would talk with him or shoot hoops with him in the evenings while Jamie, Jake’s girlfriend, did her homework. Before Jake dropped out of school, he had taken auto shop. He showed up the summer before John’s sophomore year in at least a dozen different old muscle car
s, real hot rods. Jake showed him the basics, but since then John had no experiences under a hood.

  John stands helplessly staring at the white smoke slowly streaming from the front of the car. The sun is setting and he feels the wind push against him as a large truck rushes past, rocking the car slightly in its wake. John can not believe this was happening. He had, after all, checked the consumer reports and customer reviews before choosing the rental place. So much for covering all my bases, John thinks as he slams the hood back down and walks to Jan’s door, avoiding the oncoming traffic.

  Jan looks out at John wide-eyed as he taps on the glass motioning to her to lower the window. Come on, come on repeats like a metronome in his head. Jan lets down the window, “Everything okay sweetheart?” she asks of the confused looking man at the door.

  “No dear, everything is not okay. We are broken down on the side of the freeway in nowhere Georgia and it’s about to get dark. Hand me my phone, please baby,” John calms himself while Jan rummages for the phone.

  John calls for a tow truck. Fortunately, John has roadside assistance on his cellular plan. Unlike the car rental people, his phone company is meeting his