Short Fiction - Move Forward
“Do you want the ashes in a bag or a container Ms. Hawkins?”
“A container.” Seriously? Who puts their dog of 12 years in a bag?
“We have metal, wooden, stone, we can even make it into the shape of your pet! That will cost extra of course but...”
“Wood is fine.”
Moose liked chewing on sticks. He could do it for hours without getting bored. She admired that about him. A bag. Seriously.
The honk from the car behind her startled her. “Fucking go!”
“Yeah, yeah.” She muttered to herself.
The bright red icon on the dashboard reminded her that she still needed to get gas. She used to take Moose to the Chevron by her house when she needed to fill up because they carried the treats he liked. Plus there was a Taco Bell attached to it which carried the treats she liked. It was 45 minutes away though. “I’ll make it”
It was a warm and sunny May day but she kept the car windows rolled up even though she didn’t have air conditioning. Moose used to stick his head out. She’d watch him from the rear-view mirror. His eyes would struggle to stay open and what seemed like endless amounts of slobber would get carried away in the wind.
“Do ya’ want fire, hot, medium, or mild sauce?” The southern voice yelled through the intercom.
“Fire please.” The irony wasn’t lost on her.
“Alrighty then. That’ll be 2.99. Please drive round the front for yer order.”
The cashier handed her the bag without looking at her. “Have a blessed day.”
She instinctively put the bag between her feet. Moose would climb from the back seat to the front to inspect the smells of the Taco Bell bag. “Moose, back.” She’d say in the voice of her mother. He would listen, but she always hated doing it.
As she picked the bag up she checked to see if everything was in order. Napkins? Check. Burrito? Small, but check. Fire sauce? Fire sauce. She knocked on the drive through window.
“Is there somethin’ else ya’ need.”
“Yeah, there’s no fire sauce in here?”
The cashier grabbed a fistful of fire sauce packets and thrust them through the window.
“Thanks.”
“Mmm hmm.” The drive through window slammed shut.
Just then a stream of tears burst through her eyes and down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them off with the sleeve of her faded ‘Keep Austin Weird’ shirt and put the gear in drive to pull forward. The car rolled a few inches and sputtered to a stop. She turned the key a few more times but nothing happened.
The gas. E.
“Shit.”
The cars started honking behind her as the drive through window flung open.
“Ma’am, I’m gonna need ya’ to move forward.”
“I can’t.”
Author Cené Hale
