The Hitchhiker

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after Ida Lupino

“I know what you’re thinkin,

so forget about it,

you’re gonna die is all.

It’s just a question of when.”

Two buddies gone fishing.

Picked up the hitchhiker 

by the side of the road,

come out of hiding.

Said he’d run out of gas,

thanked us 

for showing up,

slid into the back seat 

and pulled out a pistol.

“Keep your hands on the steering wheel.

Ten to midnight

where I can see 'em.”

The hitchhiker had one good eye

and one bum eye,

could never tell 

where he was looking

or if he slept.

Turn here.

Turn there.

Pull over and get out.

We followed his instructions,

never sure when 

the gun would go off.

Camped in the sagebrush.

Headed south to Baja

to get the ferry at Santa Rosalia.

One night the hitchhiker

took the watch my wife gave me.

Said he never got 

a timepiece from anyone.

Owes no one.

We’ll be there soon.

Where is there? I asked.

You’ll know when we get there.

I thought about my little one 

back home,

“Ve con Dios, pequeña.”