Page 33 of Rhet

I try once more. This time it pops then farts a cloud of black smoke out of the back. I jump out of the car and begin to pace the sidewalk.

It’s 5:00 a.m., I can’t be late. After calling roadside assistance and giving them the details, I call Rhet. He doesn’t answer. I tap my forehead.

Shit, really. This morning is a mess and it’s my first day. What’s next?

Immediately after my question, the rumbling of thunder answers me. I look up and a fat drop of water hits my eye lid.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I scream and take my phone out to call Rhet again.

Still no answer.

“This asshole wants me to be there at 5:30 a.m. and he’s still sleeping?”

After stomping my foot, I head back to wait in my car. Ten minutes later, a tow truck arrives in the pouring rain.

A stocky dark man in a black raincoat with an umbrella in hand knocks on my glass. I roll the window down slightly.

“Ms. Mitchell? I’m Greg from Tow U.”

“Hi, oh God, thank you.” I press my hand to my chest.

He smiles gently at me like he sees my strife. Packing my stuff, I then jump out of the car. He puts the umbrella over my head and escorts me to the passenger side of his truck.

I climb into the bench seat of the white tow. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and snuggle into the warm seat. The interior smells of old spices like clove and bay leaves, complemented by a hint of coffee.

That’s when I pop my eyes open. “Oh God, I forgot the coffee.”

I turn around right in time to see my car being tilted up and the coffee on my dashboard slide off. My seat will be a mess.

Turning back around, I can only close my eyes and try to breathe.

“Zee, you can fix this.” I rub my sweaty palms down my jacket. I don’t know how but I can fix it.

Greg hops into the driver’s seat and shakes the umbrella outside the door before he closes both the umbrella and the door. He looks like he could be one of my dad’s old friends. He looks to be around sixty-five. His dark skin has that healthy glow. Greg is around five nine, stocky and wide. Even his weathered palms are thick.

“That’s some storm, huh?” His smile is so soft and genuine.

“Yes, it is. My whole day is a mess now.”

He starts the truck. “Child, your day just started it’s 5:20. How can we fix it?”

“I need to drive through a Donut’ Haven to get coffee, and I’m going to 54 Maple Drive.”

“I’ve got you.” He passes me some paperwork to sign.

“Thank you.”

It’s 5:35 a.m. when we arrive at the gate of Rhet Banner’s home which happens to be a mansion.

“This place is nice. But the guard booth is empty”

Greg bends and looks through the windshield. He lowers his window and presses the intercom. I lean over and call out.

“Hello, my name is Ms. Woods. I’m here as Mr. Banner’s new assistant.”

There’s static, but no answer. I try again and still get nothing, prompting me to look at the long driveway that’s set ahead of me.

“Shit,” I cry, knowing I may have to walk.

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