Ghosts of the Last Chance

For hundreds of years at least, the tradition of ghost stories at the holidays has been a part of western culture.  Two of the most famous literary works in English—“MacBeth” and “A Christmas Carol”—are examples of this peculiarity of our interests.  Perhaps it’s the dark, early nights or the constant, biting cold.  Or perhaps it’s just a quirk of human nature to seek out a bit of discomfort during the coziest time of the year.  Whatever the case, we bring you the first part of a story in that tradition… 

“Well, if it’s the last chance, you’d better take it!” Erin’s dad said for maybe the tenth time that day, and then laughed at his own joke again.  Erin didn’t think it was funny this time, or the nine times before.  He had only been in town for a month, and he already wanted to leave.  

“I want to leave,” he told his dad.

His dad stopped laughing and became more serious.  Erin thought that maybe he preferred
fake laughing.

“Listen, Erin,” his dad started.  He knew where this was going.  After Erin’s mom had died—he still didn’t even like thinking that phrase—the two had been lost for almost a year.  They had spent most of that time nodding silently to each other, or just avoiding each other to be alone with their thoughts.  Nothing quite held together without the strong, warm presence of his mom, who had always known how to bring the two men together.  When his dad got an offer to transfer to a town halfway across the country they had both felt relief.  A change was as good as anything, they hoped.  It had turned out that the job was at a site forty miles from the nearest town, which had fewer people than the high school he had been attending. Still, it was something to take their minds off of things, they thought at the time.  Now, however…

“I know, dad,” he said.  And he did.  He knew his dad meant well, and he also knew there was no viable alternative to their current situation.  He could look forward to graduation, and looking for his own path forward in a year or two, but for now the best he could look forward to was a job at the Last Chance gas station he had just gotten a phone call about.  “It’ll be fine,”
he said.

His dad smiled gratefully, and moved as if to tousle his hair.  He instinctively flinched, and his dad’s smile slipped a little.  They were back to awkward.  That naturally led to “well, go take your last chance, then.”

Erin forced himself to smile back at the already tired joke.  “Ok, dad,” he said.  “I should be back by ten.”

“I love you, son,” his dad said, trying to make it sound natural.  Erin nodded and headed out to
his truck.

No more than 100 yards down the road, he realized that his “winter tires” for Arizona were not going to cut it here and he eased up on the gas, worried about being able to brake in time for the stop sign ahead.  As he slid through the intersection, he realized that there was literally no other car visible on any nearby road.  At 3:00 in the afternoon.  On Wednesday.  “It’s God’s country,” he laughed, looking up at the town’s only billboard just off the highway.  “Last Chance Gas Station and Super Stop,” it read.  “Welcome to God’s Country,” it went on.  “Let’s keep it that way!”  In addition to a faded image of a hot dog, there was what he presumed was a picture of a person using a garbage can properly, though he couldn’t tell because the sign had been marked by what were likely many years of rifle rounds.  As an added grace note, a black plastic garbage bag, dusted with snow, was casually resting against the base of the sign.

He listened to the intermittent chatter of the two competing radio stations that couldn’t quite make themselves heard and occasionally blended together and overlapped with each other.  He wished he had brought his AirPods.

As he pulled into the icy parking lot of the Last Chance, he was reassured to see that it looked from the outside like a regular fixture of the American roadscape—fluorescent lighting, card reader pumps, lottery amounts on LED signs, all the basics.  As he walked inside, the scene was complete with a bored-looking woman at the register.

“Can I help you?” she asked, after staring at him for what seemed like quite a while.

“Uh,” he started.

“You Erin?” she asked, smiling at his nervousness.

“Yeah,” he blushed.  

“Good,” she smiled back.  “You’re just in time.  The ghost is acting up again.”

Part 2 coming in the next issue!