Somewhere between St. Matthews and Orangeburg, Cairo’s engine failed. Since waking up in an unmentionable motel and starting the car, it had been less than an hour. It should have happened sooner, years sooner, but what the hell. It had been a good run by that time, and Cairo was overdue a stroke of bad luck.
Cairo popped the hood, took a look inside. Pluming smoke rose off the overheating engine, and he came away coughing. The price tag on this one read, ‘too much’. Totaled, and not worth anything but the rusty metal, he collected the few things he had and started walking on the scant shoulder of a rural highway. The road signs told him a mile until the nearest exit, so he went. The few times a car passed, he hitched up a thumb and looked as friendly as a brown person could look in America. No one stopped, but it didn’t matter. There was a country store in town, and a hulking bear greeted him at the door.
On hind legs with its teeth bared, it seemed ready to kill him. Cairo froze there…
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