2

2

It was nothing short of a miracle, thought MC. A middle-aged trucker had picked him up just as soon as he had rounded onto the thruway. “You know you're damn lucky I picked you up. Cops will arrest a fellow 'round here for hitchhiking, and you know, I ain't been so inclined to pick strays up in the past.”

“lucky, you sure are right on there. But the cops aren't so bad. This road only goes two directions, so, you know... if they pick me up its a fifty fifty shot they take me a little closer to where I'm headed. Besides, sometimes they'll even give me a hot meal and a place to sleep for a few nights. Sure as hell could use that right about now. Hitchhiking's not bad enough for them to hold me for long, and all things considered, I'm not in any rush.”

The trucker snickered, he seemed to like MC's nothing to lose attitude. “What's your name boy?”

“MC” MC replied, carefully sounding out both syllables.

“Eem See, what the hell kind of name is that, you one them rappists?”

MC laughed, “no, not a rapper, just a nick name that stuck.”

“Hum, well, Eem See, where you headed?”

“the city, but if your turning off I can jump out when ever.”

“well, its your lucky day, I'm headed straight for the city. Should be there in a few hours. If you wanna grab a little shut-eye I can wake you when were close?”

MC, looked skeptically at the trucker. He wasn't a particularly kind looking man. His face was all scrunched up from staring at the road for two long, and his body looked soft and dirty. MC looked from top to bottom: the trucker wore a red cap on top of shabby brown hair, a loose flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows and jeans that clung a bit too low on his hips. As MC's eye darted back to the truckers face, he noticed a faded tattoo on the hand nearest MC. It was barely visible below the hair which grew thickly on the tops of the truckers hands and arms, but with a moments concentration MC was certain of what it was. Simply a thick black circle, almost like an O or a zero, but perfectly round. MC asked the trucker, “you know, I can't tell you how many cars have passed me by, why did you pick me up?”

“no reason in particular, you just looked like someone needed some help.”

MC, didn't take a nap. He watched the road, and every once in a while would sneak a glance at the trucker's tattoo. He didn't understand what about the tattoo intrigued him, but when he looked at it his mind would go silent and he felt like he could hear someone talking in the back of his head. Then the truck would jostle or someone on the road would beep their horn and MC would snap back to watching the road.

MC and the trucker made light conversation as they neared to city. MC told the trucker he could let him out anywhere and the trucker did as soon as they crossed the bridge. As MC exited the truck on an uptown street corning, he made sure to thank the trucker many times. All in all, MC thought, he might not have made it if no one had helped him. The trucker tipped his hat, “be safe traveler.” MC closed the door and the trucker drove off. MC couldn't help but feel like he had just lost a friend. MC sighed deeply, smiled at the sky, and hiked up his shoulder straps. It was time to make some money.