A Question for the Lord

J.D wondered what to do about the short, curly-headed hitchhiker he'd picked up near the Taco Bell off of exit 60. He'd wanted company for the 200-mile drive home from his sister's place, and the young feller paid his way by spinning some fine stories of outlandish places he'd visited.

Blair was asleep now, and J.D. hadn't tried to keep him awake. The boy had put on a good show while tellin' his tales, his hands a-flyin' as he'd go on about what he saw when he was in Peru or Brazil or Kenya. When he slowed down, though, J.D. could see the bone-weary exhaustion under the boy's washed-out looking skin.

He was dreaming now, jerking a bit, his breathing getting faster as he made distressed sounds that sounded like 'Jim' and 'panther' and once, very clearly, 'no.' He gave a little sob in his sleep, and J.D. reached over from his pipe wrench steering contraption and gave him a shake to stop any more dream-tears from sliding down his face. Sighing, Blair settled again.

"Lord? Put him out…or take him to Pastor Williams for the night?"

Let the boy sleep, he decided, and drove on to his town.

Continued in A Fair Distance: Running on Empty. Chapter One.