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I found a motel just off the highway east of Amarillo, Texas, and had a good night’s sleep. A very good night’s sleep; alone. I needed it.

Looking at Google Maps, I thought I could make Malibu if I drove eight hours a day for the next two days.

That was the plan. First, after four hours of driving the next day, torrential rains slowed traffic to a crawl; flooding caused a detour. Once I was back on I-40 the going was slow. I was just outside Albuquerque when traffic stopped. There was a car off the road with its flashers on.

I don’t know much about cars but since it was apparent that I wasn’t going anywhere, I got out to help. I mean, I can change a tire.

A woman, holding a battered umbrella which was almost useless against the wind, was standing by her car. When I got to her car, I couldn’t tell if it was the rain or tears in her eyes.

She was cursing the rain and herself, “how could I be so stupid as to run out of gas?” She yelled at no one.

“How can I help?” I wasn’t trying to get laid. I could still smell Mrs. Aldrich’s pussy in my nostrils. Besides, now I was anxious to get to Malibu, hit the beach and check out the girls my age.

“If you really want to help, there’s an exit about five miles ahead. Will you drive me? I know there’s a gas station right off the ramp. Maybe they’ll let me borrow a gas can.”

“Hop in. I’m Adam Moore.”

“I’m Luisa Rivera. Thank you. You talk funny. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Boston and talk about talking funny.”

“I’m from right here in Albuquerque, but my grandparents came from Mexico. Do you really think I have an accent?”

Yes, I did. We made small talk. “The exit is right up ahead.”

As she started to get out in the pouring rain, I asked, “how do you plan on getting back to your car?”

“I can walk.”

“In the rain, with a five gallon can of gas, and it’ll be dark in an hour or so?” I couldn’t imagine anyone walking on the Interstate with visibility so poor. It was dangerous.

“It’s no big deal.”

“I’ll wait for you. You’ll drowned.”

While she waited for someone to help her, I got out of the car to use the men’s room.

When I came back she was waiting inside the garage. Luisa had taken off her drenched coat. It was the first time I had a good look at her.

She was an attractive woman, and she was a woman, not a girl and definitely not an old lady like Mrs. Rikman or Mrs. Aldrich. She didn’t look nearly as old as Marnie, the waitress near Buffalo. Nor was she a high school girl like Paula.

Luisa was perhaps thirty. Her skin was brown; as if she had a nice tan. Her hair black and her eyes just as black. I thought she was very good looking with a beautiful face. I still hadn’t crossed my mind to try and fuck her. I was going to drive her back to her car, help her put gas in her tank and then I’d be on my way.

Not really on my way. While waiting for the gas station attendant, I noticed the neon sign of a cheap motel just up the road and across the street. I’d had enough for today. The rain had not let up. Over the last two hours, I probably averaged less than 30 mph on the Interstate

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