The Singer walked towards the unpaved road that led to the main road into the nearby town of Hubbard. The only vehicle left in the parking lot was an old faded blue pick-up truck with a rusty white top. The hood was up and the owner was tinkering with the engine. The Singer was glad he walked everywhere he went. He didn't have to worry about car trouble or the price of gasoline. Unless he was sick or injured in some way, he could always leave or stay where ever he wanted. He was in control of his own destiny, at least when it came to transportation.
The Singer had just gone far enough down the road, to escape the flickering fluorescent lights of the parking lot when he heard the truck's engine crank. The truck pulled out of the lot and started down the road towards him, the headlights cast his shadow in front of him. As the truck neared, the driver slowed down and moved along side him. The passenger side window rolled down, "Need a lift?" the driver asked. The driver was wearing a San Francisco Giants baseball cap over thick dark hair. The Singer tried to ignore the man and kept walking. "It's a good 5 miles into town you know," the driver persisted. The Singer knew how far it was into Hubbard, he had walked it before with no trouble at all. "It's not a problem you know," the driver insisted, "I'm heading through town anyway." The Singer stopped. Normally he would just keep walking. He enjoyed his time alone, but tonight...tonight he was just tired. The truck stopped beside him. "So, you gettin' in?" the driver asked.
The Singer opened the passenger door and slid inside the cab. He placed his backpack between him and the driver, creating a barrier between them, and positioned his guitar between his legs. "Thanks," he said softly.
"My name's Thomas by the way," the driver said with huge grin on his face, "Thomas Morrill." He then extended his hand out towards the Singer. When the Singer did not respond, the grin faded and the hand pulled back. Thomas put the truck into gear and started forward. "You do have a name don't you?" Thomas tried to make conversation. The Singer just sat silently and turned his head slightly to the right away from the driver. "That is mighty fine thing you do you know, with the tears and all that." The Singer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "How do you do that?"
Not wanting to discuss his so called gift, The Singer replied, "Josh." It was almost a whisper.
"Pardon?" Thomas wasn't sure he had heard the Singer at all. "My name is Josh." the Singer said a little louder. "Nice to meet you Josh," Thomas smiled and extended his hand again. This time Josh, The Singer, shook it.
Tears of the Singer is a book that I am writing. I am posting new segments from time to time and when I am finished I will publish it as a whole for the public to buy. For those who follow my blog...you can read it for free, even if it is one little piece at a time. Click here to read the Prologue and here to read Chapter 1, Part 1.