It was the hottest day of the summer, a record-breaking 102 degrees, hot
and humid, sweltering even in the shade. I was driving back from visiting
my older brother and his new baby. In the blistering heat, I could see the
blacktop bubbling. I’d never been so grateful for air conditioning before.
I cruised happily along County Route 2, which wound through the
northern tip of the Sonoran Desert. Then I saw that a car had broken down
up ahead. It was the first car I’d seen in about half an hour. In the distance,
a few hundred feet ahead of the car, I saw a stooped figure walking with a
gas can in his hands. There was nothing around for miles. There was no
way this person was going to make it to the nearest town, which was a good
twenty miles away, in this desert heat.
I’d always been told to stay away from strangers, but I thought if there
ever was a time to do a good deed, this was it. Besides, as I neared the figure, I could tell that it was an elderly man, and I thought there was little
chance he’d do me any harm. So I slowed down and pulled over. “Need a
lift?” I asked.
Now that I could see him clearly, it was obvious the old man was already
in trouble. He’d only walked a hundred yards or so, and he looked as if he
was going to pass out any moment. “I’d be most grateful, young lady, if you
could help me get to a gas station,” he said slowly. “I seem to be out of
petroleum.”
“No problem,” I replied. “I’m headed that way.”
He climbed slowly into the car and I pulled back out onto the road. “Not
a good day for car trouble, huh?” I asked.
“Indeed,” he replied. He was silent for a few minutes while his body temperature normalized. I offered him a soda from the cooler I’d packed for my
four-hour ride. He accepted it gratefully. We made a little small talk then,
but just a little. He seemed to prefer the silence.
As we neared the gas station, I asked him if he would like a ride back to
his car. “I don’t have to be home until late... [continues]
