Greeting everyone! Thank you so much for reading! It is a great encouragement to me.
I want to give thanks to Abbey M. for helping me with my photo, and to Curtis S. for his visual acumen.
Please don’t hesitate to give me ideas for the blog at firstname.lastname@example.org
Thanks, and God bless.
Mr. Brownfield pushed open his door and narrowly missed getting flattened by a speeding sports coupe.
“Hey, You!” he shouted.
The young man walking on the road paused and turned to look at Mr. Brownfield. He looked confused and pointed to himself.
“Do you mean me?”
“Yes I mean you. Who else would I be talking to?”
The young man shrugged.
“Well, I don’t know. This is a pretty busy road.” he said.
Mr. Brownfield pointed at the can he was carrying.
“Hey, is that . . . I mean, do you have gas?”
“I consider that a very personal question.”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. Listen, what’s your name?” asked Mr. Brownfield.
“Quin, my family and I ran out of gas. We desperately need to get to Gettysburg in time to save our family vacation.”
“That’s ironic.” Quin said. “You have a van but no gas; I have gas but no van. It looks like we’re at a standoff.”
“Can we have your gas?” Mr. Brownfield asked.
“Sure.” Quin said, handing the can to him. “Can I ride along?”
“You need a ride?” asked Mr. Brownfield. Picking up a hitchhiker didn’t quite fit into his perfect family vacation plans. He didn’t know how he would explain the photos of a roadside hobo in the memories scrapbook. “I guess we can give you a ride. Where to?”
“You said you were going to Gettysburg?”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Cool. It sounds like fun. I’ve never been to Gettysburg before.”
“Well, ah, I can’t really say that I’m comfortable taking you with my family to Gettysburg. I hope you can understand.”
Quin frowned slightly.
“So, you want me to share my gasoline with you, but you don’t want to take me to Gettysburg?”
“I’m afraid that’s right.”
“That hardly sounds fair.”
Mr. Brownfield shook his head slightly.
“I’m sorry Mack, but that’s just how it is.” Then he changed his mind. “Listen, I can’t take you to Gettysburg, but I could at least drop you off somewhere in the next town. I think it’s called Dixon. Would that be all right?”
Quin thought for a moment, then smiled and nodded his head enthusiastically.
“That’s just as exciting. I’ve never been to Dixon either. Here, take the gas.”