This Ain't No One-Word-Titled Short Story

Escapin' through the lily fields
I came across an empty space
It trembled and exploded
Left a bus stop in its place
The bus came by and I got on
That's when it all began
There was cowboy Neal
At the wheel
Of a bus to never-ever land

- Grateful Dead  "That's It for the Other One"

I drove the Volkswagon Kombi in the tropical heat. I was running away from the landlady and going to the North. My things all thrown scattered at the back of this minibus. My cat Johnson Moore purred. Sarcastic. If I was in a movie it would picture me sweating behind the wheels in sepia-like color. That color reminds me of the heat somewhere in Texas. But this isn’t Texas. Though Texas holds a fond memory, I could not bear to remember. I met a love in Texas. I lost him to Texas. I came back home. He wanted to stay. To cut it short, I hate Texas.

So I came back and started working in a bakery. Three years then the bakery had to close two months ago. Me, having a mind that told me to go somewhere else spending money that should be used to pay the rent, packed all my things. I was thinking: Penang would be nice.  

VROOOM!

A sports car driven so fast overtook my Kombi. I cursed it in French, a rare language spoken among Malays. No, I did not eat its smoke. Expensive cars are eco friendly nowadays. Yes I know this part would be the part where I have to use bombastic words showing how surprised I was. But no. I wanted to laugh instead. The way the driver drove the car, it looked like a rich man was being chased by a Godzilla. How I hoped that car would break down.

God seemed to listen. There it was, all-shiny, handsome tame tiger that once fiercely passing me by. No one seemed to stop. It was near dusk so I kindly pulled over. The driver was too busy calling someone behind the hood. I eyed the car. Priced at five hundred thousand something-something-something in a car catalogue. Nice.

“Hey sir?”

“Yeah?” He closed the hood.

I wanted to run from him as much as from the landlady. It was him. He took off his Police eyewear and smiled.

“Boy howdy, you looked different. Last time you had your hair short, wom’n!”

Texan accent. Dang!

“Where u goin’?”

“Penang.”

I paused for a moment. I was thinking of knocking him down just like his car. The anger aroused again. But aside from it I was glad too. He came back finally.

“Comma get a rahd.” I spoke also in Texan, the accent I was trying to forget. “That is, if you want to. My Kombi ain’t got no aircond.”

“Lemme wait fo the tow first, will ya?”

He looked all tuckered out. We kept silent. Until the tow truck arrived and brought his car back to KL, we looked at each other. Then he rode my Kombi. We talked and laughed and cried then laughed again and cried again and talked again. When we arrived in Penang, he took over the steering and drove us back to KL. Seven days later we got married.

“Still hatin’ Texas, hon?” he asked, chewing on a buffalo wing.

“Nay.” I shook my head.

I love Texas. Thanks Texas. You gave me back my love. He’s like a cowboy, my cowboy Neal.