A Hitchhiker on a Lonely Road

and a song about humps.

It was too late and too dark for anyone to be standing at the side of the road with their thumb out. Nevertheless, there she was in a frayed dress with a backpack on her back.

Josh stopped. Not because the girl was attractive (she was), but because he didn’t want some other, less principled dude going into caveman mode at the sight of a lonely lady. He rolled down the window.

“Where are you heading?” he asked.

“Where are you heading?” she replied.

“South about ten miles.”

“That’ll do.”

He unlocked the doors and the woman shoved her pack into the backseat, climbing in beside it. She brought with her a slight smell of smoke.

Once he got a good look in the rearview mirror, Josh realized she was closer to a girl than a woman. Her hair was long and uncombed. A brown smudge wrapped itself across her cheek.

“Hey, you alright?” asked Josh.

“I suppose. My feet are hurting pretty bad, though. Mind if I sleep for a moment?”

“Of course not.”

She curled up, putting her head down on the backpack and closing her eyes. Josh was a little surprised. He wouldn’t have trusted himself in the same circumstances. But the girl didn’t seem afraid. Just tired.

Turning on the radio at a low volume, he began to hum along softly.

If you want my future, forget my past If you wanna get with me, better make it fast

The girl didn’t seem to mind, so he let the radio keep playing. It switched over to another song, one he knew well. As trees passed by, he swayed in time to the music.

Or tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please Myself already knows I’m not OK. Or you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind It might be walking out on me today.

These late night drives were always better with a little music. Josh would be the first to admit he didn’t have the best taste in songs, but that never stopped him from enjoying a classic pop tune or heartfelt country ballad. Usually he wasn’t too picky.

But there was one song, one song that always sent his hand reaching for the dial. And, of course, it was up next.

“Whatcha gonna do with all that junk All that junk inside your trunk.”

Josh groaned.

“No! Wait!”

The voice came from the backseat. The girl was sitting up, looking straight at him. He’d almost forgotten she was there. In the moonlight, her face looked pale, strange.

“I love this song!” she said.

“I’ma get get get get you drunk Get you love drunk off my hump.”

“You can’t be serious.”

He reached for the dial. It was just so terrible.

“PLEASE!”

The urgency in her voice was surprising. He’d never heard anyone express such passion about this particular song. Gritting his teeth, Josh let the music (if it could be called that) continue.

“My hump my hump my hump my hump my hump My hump my hump my hump my lovely little lumps.”

“Oh my God, this is the worst thing I’ve ever heard. I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He reached for the dial again.

Then he noticed the tears streaming down her face. It made no sense, but she was actually crying. She placed a hand on his cheek and her hand was so soft, so light, like a butterfly.

“Josh, I beg you. Let the song play.”

“My love my love my love my love You love my lady lumps My hump my hump my hump My humps they got you.”

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t. This is torture.”

He pressed the power button, and immediately the car was flooded with silence. Josh let out a sigh of relief. Peace, at last.

It took him a few moments to realize that the backseat was empty.

Startled, he pulled over and took a look. She wasn’t lying down or hiding. Her backpack was gone. The girl had disappeared entirely.

Josh shook his head, wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. He was tired. But, no. She’d been there. Certainly she’d been there. He could still feel the place on his cheek where she’d touched his skin.

There was a gas station up ahead, so Josh pulled up and went inside to pick up something caffeinated. Maybe that would clear his head.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said the attendant.

“I think I might have.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you had a run in with our resident hitchhiker.”

“A girl? Very strange taste in music?”

“That’s her. They say she died in a crash. About ten years ago, along this very road. She was on her way to see her favorite band perform. Never made it. Now she hitches.”

The attendant leaned forward, looking at Josh intently.

“Did you make it through the song?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you make it through the whole song? Don’t feel bad if you didn’t. No one does. But, she was going to the concert to hear one song in particular. And she never got there. So, she rides around, hoping someone will play the whole thing for her, so she can move on.”

“The song about the humps?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“No, I couldn’t let it play all the way through.”

The attendant nodded his head. “Yeah, it’s a terrible song.”

“It’s so bad.”

“That poor girl ain’t never getting to heaven.”

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