an old woman came into the store and yancey stepped aside to let her pass.
the next thing he knew he was sitting on an old red couch outside a general store and filling station in the desert somewhere.
the great mountain looked a little closer than yancey had ever seen it. the sun was starting to go down behind it,
an old man with a big hat was sitting on the ground beside the couch, with his back against the wall of the general store, looking up at yancey with little eyes under heavy lids.
“where am i ?” yancey asked the old man.
“last chance store and station,” the old man replied, pointing over yancey’s head. yancey guessed he was pointing to a sign, but did not bother twisting his neck to try to look at it.
“last chance for what?” yancey asked. he was still not completely awake.
“it’s just a name,” the old man said. “it don’t mean nothing.” he had an accent yancey did not recognize.
yancey’s head was clearing, and he looked more closely at the old man. the old man’s face ‘was brown and leathery, and under his gray whiskers he had curiously small features. there was something else… something yancey could not quite place…
the old man turned and looked directly at yancey. he had blue eyes!
was he a white man? only that morning yancey had told the lady at the police station he had never seen a white person in his life. and now… here might be one!
yancey was too well brought up, and too naturally polite to ask the old man if he was white, so he asked him, “how far from nineveh are we?”
“nineveh? nineveh? that a town on the south side?”
“yes, that’s right, it’s just south of the city limits.”
“well this here is the north side, young fellow. so i guess you are a way off.” the more the old man talked, the stranger his voice and manner of speaking seemed to yancey.
“i have to be in nineveh by midnight,” yancey said. “what time is it, anyway?”
the old man pointed to the setting sun. “you can see what time it is.”
“no, i can not,” yancey told him. “i am not very good at that sort of thing.”
the old man made a sound yancey took to be a laugh. “no? well, it’s just abut eight o’clock.”
“i have to be in nineveh by imidnight,,” yancey repeated. “is there a bus or something i can catch into the city?”
“bus?” the old man made his laughing sound . “ain’t no buses out here. taxi maybe, if you can afford one.”
taxi? yancey checked his pocket. his phone was in it. “i don’t know if i want to do that,” he told the old man. “maybe i better start walking.”
“suit yourself. tell you what, though, kingfish will probably be by in a while. maybe you can catch a ride in to the city with him.”
“that would be great. how long is ‘in a while’?”
“hard to say. he might not come by at all, though he probably will. on the other hand, his vehicle might be all filled up, you never know. but if he comes by and he has room , he will probably give you a ride, because that’s the kind of guy he is.”
yancey considered this. “maybe i better start walking.”
“it’s up to you.”
yancey started to get up. his legs went out from underneath him , and he collapsed back on the couch. he had not realized how weak he was.
“maybe i better wait for this kingfish person,” he said.
“that might be best,” the old man said.
if this kingfish doesn’t show by ten thirty, yancey thought, i wiil call a cab, and wipe out my money account.
he asked the old man. “how long have i been here anyway?”
the old man shrugged. “couple of hours/,”
“how did i get here, do you know?”
the old man made his laugh sound again. “no, i do not. don’t you know?”
“um - no.”
the old man did not seem surprised by this. “mrs gilgamesh saw you lying in the road. she gave you some water and dragged you over here. that’s all i know.”
“who’s mrs gilgamesh?”
“she owns the store.”
yancey twisted his head and looked at the store behind him. the wall was covered mostly by a big window, but the window was made of thick greenish glass and was hard to see through.
“maybe i should go in and thank her,” yancey said.
“you can thank her by buying something. business ain’t been too good lately.”
