Flatbed Ford Page 2

  He nodded gravely as Alice got out of the truck and walked into the motel office. He supposed he’d better un-sling his packsack.

  He had much to learn about women.

  ***

  She lay on top of him, breathing quietly.

  Alice gazed down into Franklyn’s eyes, his penis still inside of her.

  He had the most serious look on his face.

  “Why’d you do it?” Franklyn had sort of clued in after a while.

  All wrapped up in himself as he was.

  Waking up to discover they had travelled two hundred and fifty miles while he slept…well, that was one hell of a revelation.

  Her eyes were all funny, clouded in doubts and reservations and yet there was no going back upon it.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I guess I just had enough.” She poked him in the chest. “Like you.”

  She disengaged. She rolled off to one side. She lay on her left, close to his shoulder and with her left arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him close. She rubbed her fingers in his chest hair and just looked upon him.

  She was all right with it.

  “I reckon—” Franklyn had a Tennessee accent, just some boy who grew up in a holler, and luckier than some. “I reckon I got ten, maybe fifteen good years ahead of me. After that, sickness and death.”

  And in the end, we all got it coming to us.

  “Yes?” Franklyn would never hurt her.

  “I wonder…” His eyes were far away.

  She bit her lip. She wondered where it might lead. But it would lead somewhere, somewhere better than this, maybe.

  Somehow she knew that about him.

  “You can tell me.”

  There was a strange smirk on her face.

  “I would love to share them years with somebody nice.” Franklyn had soft, brown, puppy-dog eyes.

  She looked into his soul for a moment and then held on real tight.

  He closed his eyes as if to hold back the waters. His body went into some kind of spasms and warm wetness rained down upon her breasts.

  She had already made her decision, come what may.

  “Shush. It’s okay, Franklyn.” She ruffled his hair and murmured softly in his ear. “It’s going to be all right. As long as we have each other, everything is going to be just fine.”

  End

  Who is Ian Cooper?

  Ian Cooper has written fiction, non-fiction and worked for newspapers and magazines. He likes to make people laugh as well as think. His writing has a strong sense of the dramatic. Out of work and recovering from a life-threatening illness, someone suggested writing his sexual memoirs, which he initially rejected for the amount of research involved. He didn’t want to have to make it all up from scratch. A single dad and semi-retired from his most recent experience as an estimator in the construction industry, Ian squeezes a little writing time in between raising a daughter and building a home-based business.