It was difficult for Calvin to pay attention to his conversation with Jimbo, the hunched man who drove the tow-truck. He had swung his rotund midsection out of the truck, and from that moment, his talking had not stopped.

Calvin’s caffeine riddled brain struggled to follow this never-ending ramble. Even though this man was saving him from his self-inflicted hypothermia, he just couldn’t bring himself to focus on a single thing Jimbo said. Not even an ounce of attention could be wasted on the man.

From the little that Calvin heard, the man’s drawl carried on about a wide range of topics. They had run over a large pothole and he spoke on how little the government did, then a moment later he was sharing his thoughts on marriage. It was like his voice was dissolving into the air the moment it left his mouth turning into a dissipated, unintelligible hum. Instead, he found himself focusing on the way the man’s jowls twitched whenever he pronounced a b or an f.

Now, he was staring at Jimbo’s blood shot eyes. They had a slight yellow tinge. Calvin wondered if his own eyes looked any better. He jumped as those eyes shifted off the road, their gaze resting fully upon Calvin. It was quiet in the car, and he realized that it had been like this for a while.

“I’m sorry, Jim, can you ask that question again?”

He let out a low hearty laugh. “No trouble, no trouble. Don’t forget, it’s Jimbo. Not Jimmy, and Jim is my father’s name.” He laughed again.

Calvin offered back a weak smile.

“Anyway, it’s no wonder you’re starting to snooze. You looked half-dead and fully frozen when I got there.”

“I bet.” He wanted to be friendly, or at least polite. The amount of strain that he felt surprised him. Extra friction in his forced smile, and he found his neck had grown stiff when he gave a curt nod. Jimbo didn’t seem to notice.

“Why not wait inside the car?”

Calvin looked out his own window now, so that Jimbo wouldn’t see him roll his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted some fresh air.”

Calvin had hoped that his coldness would stem the flow of words. Instead, the man placed a massive paw on his jumbo soda, and took a long sip before letting out an exaggerated sigh of contentment. “You know, I get it. Every man’s got his demons. You don’t have to share, but don’t forget that they’re real. Have you faced ‘em yet?”

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Still unsure how they had arrived at this line of questioning, Calvin let out a long sigh. “I suppose I have to if I got ‘em.”

Another silence, but Jimbo didn’t allow it to sit for long. “Nope, it’s still your choice. Most people are haunted by something or other, and some take it all to the grave.”

They ran over a patch of uneven road, and the quick jolt felt like it pushed together the frayed ends of his mind. He sat up straighter in his seat. “So, what sort of demons do you have?”

Jimbo took one hand off the wheel and scratched his chin. The stiff bristles of the man’s scruff made it sound like he was running his fingers over fine sandpaper. “I’d rather not discuss them. I mean, I know I got ‘em, and I try to deal with them as much as I can. It’s hard to ignore things when you spend so much time driving alone.”

Calvin thought of the miles of open road he had already traversed. There had certainly been an erosion in his mind that he blamed on his lack of sleep, and his diet of caffeinated beverages and fast food. That was all it was. And who was this man to tell Calvin how and why he felt what he did. He felt the flame of dislike rearing up in his gut, fed by a new breath. “If you’re alone all the time, I’d think that you’d want an opportunity to talk about it with someone.”

The chuckle that seemed to follow every statement Calvin made, sounded hollow. “It’s nothing, really. I’m nothing special.”

It took some effort for Calvin to stop himself from affirming that statement. What stopped him wasn’t empathy. He wanted to dig deeper, wanted to search out a weakness he could strike. “Come on, you said that you’re used to driving alone, why don’t you just pretend like I’m not even here.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“Think of me like any other demon. What would they do?”

“Now, let’s not throw that word around so willy nilly.”

“Demon? You’re the one who said it. I’m just trying to help you out since you’re so lonely.”

The air in the truck felt like it had been cycled through too many times. It was a first, Jimbo shifting in his seat, at a loss for words.

Calvin took advantage. “Maybe I’m not a demon. I’m something much worse. A stranger, a complete unknown entity. We could have just sat here in silence, and let the next half an hour pass, but you don’t seem interested in that. I would have let you blabber on, but you were too needy, and so you required me to join in. Your own loneliness is seeping out of you. So here it is, Jim, Jimmy, Jimbo, do you want to get nice and personal where you tell me all of the horrible things you’ve undoubtedly done in your life, or do you want to just zip it until we never have to see each other again?”

Jimbo froze, his mouth slightly parted, the thought he was about to verbalize having died on his tongue. The quiet was only disturbed by the whirring of the wheels over pavement, and the occasional groan from the back whenever they took a turn.