100 People:xii. Rebecca Sturgis

At some point that night Rebecca Sturgis grew bored while hanging out in the cornfields around the bonfire in the middle of winter. She leaned over and nudged Florence to let her know she was leaving. Florence did not mind hanging out and smoking a few more joints, but Rebecca had grown tired of watching the other high school kids around her ingest some narcotic or other. She would not touch the stuff—she was straight edge—but she also needed to get away from her stepmom on the weekends so she took what company she could find.

Rebecca was driving and had just reached the edge of town. “I’ve got to fill up on gas.”

“You almost out?” asked Florence with her eyes half closed.

“I’m about half way. But my dad always says to fill up about half way during the winter because the car uses more gas. I don’t want to run out of gas,” Rebecca said as she pulled into the gas station. She squinted as the light of the neon Cum-n-Go sign hit her eyes.

Florence laughed, “Yeah, again. You don’t want to run out again.”

“Shut up, Flo.” Rebecca reached down and pulled the lever to open the gas tank and then zipped up her jacket. She opened her car door and placed both feet on the snow-covered ground and braced herself against the car in case she stepped on a patch of ice. She walked over to the gas dispenser and filled her car. She looked back on the road she had just driven up. It was black and she could barely make out the road she had been driving on. With nothing but snow and black to look out she tried making shapes as she breathed into the cold air. She wished she could make some kind of shape that resembled a robot, but she would have been content with blowing a simple ring.

The gas pump clicked as it finished filling up the tank. Rebecca turned around and removed the pump. She looked into the car at Florence. Florence’s head was slumped forward and gently swayed side to side. Rebecca slowly walked to the Cum-n-Go to pay for the gas. She entered and stood in line to pay for her gas. There was one man ahead of her paying for gas, a lighter, and chewing tobacco. When he was done, Rebecca, approached the counter. “Pump eight.”

“Pump eight?” said the women behind the counter, looking Rebecca up and down from behind her glasses. She turned around to check the amount. “Hmmph.” Then she turned back around and faced Rebecca with a frown on her face. “Six dollars and sixty-six cents.”

Rebecca handed her a ten-dollar bill. As the women behind the counter opened the register to retrieve the change she said, “I don’t know what you think is so funny. Think worshipping Satan is funny?”

“I was just filling up my car,” Rebecca whispered.

“You’ve probably been out in the fields worshipping the devil. I’m so sick of you kids.” The women dropped the change on the counter. Rebecca quickly scooped it up and ran out the store. As she was running to her car she stepped on a patch of ice and fell forward onto her right knee. Her right knee skidded along the icy asphalt. Her jeans tore, as did the flesh on her knee. She stood back up and limped back to her car. She was holding back tears and she slammed the car door.

“What’s up,” said Florence become alert again.

Rebecca started up the car and drove away from the gas station. She was sniffling and holding her right knee with one hand while driving with the other.

“What’s wrong,” said Florence, sounding more sober.

“Some crazy Christian whore in there. Started yelling at me for worshipping the devil because I pumped six dollars and sixty-six cents worth of gas. I hate this stupid dead town. I hate everyone in this stupid town. Just a bunch of stupid Jesus-freak rednecks here. I’m leaving here. I graduate in June and I’m out of her the next day. I’m going to a city, I’m leaving this stupid midwest, backwards America.”

Florence sat there—silent—until she began coughing uncontrollably.

“I hate this place. No wonder all the kids here spend their time wasted,” Rebecca said, as she rubbed her knee trying to forget the pain.

That night, after dropping Florence off at home, Rebecca went online. She navigated to the site for the University of Reno, Nevada and filled out an online application. Then she went to bed.