'Losing Hope' - A Play Part 6.

At the entry of her truck, Hope holds her phone out of view from Mickey and tries to make a phone call, but....

HOPE: (To the audience)
      Fuck! Fuck! Shit! Shit! Motherfucker! Pardon my language, but my phone has no service in this shit dump of a place and I am gonna fucking lose it! At this point I'm like ninety nine point nine percent sure this guy is planning to eradicate me from this planet. I mean the way he looks at me is like a tiger drooling over his prey. 
So I gotta just GO. Yeah, to hell with yoga, and the mere chance that he may be telling the truth and is actually a random dude who is not out to get me in any way. To hell with it all. In fact, I'm not even gonna say goodbye. 

Hope walks defiantly back to the truck, turns it on....but it doesn't move. She tries again. Some nondescript curses are heard from within.
Then, in shame Hope exits the truck.

MICKEY: I was wondering why you left the music on for so long. It eats up your gas y'know.  
HOPE: It does?
MICKEY: (To the audience)
         I am coming on too strong, I can feel it. I never been good at hiding my feelings. Those people with poker face on? Not me. I am what you call...transparent. My emotions are all drawn out on my face. She must have noticed me imagining her with a wedding gown on looking like the most stunning angel in the universe... and got freaked out. Man! I gotta be cool. Gotta play it cool, like 'I don't care'. I'm COOL. Like, like...Elvis.

Mickey turns to Hope acting all 'cool'.

MICKEY: It's all right if you wanna leave. I'll get by. Always do. 
HOPE: No...that was... It was part of my yoga routine. Turning on the engine gets me centered and ready...to relax. Sometimes I just turn it on and drive in circles. Chanting. And...stuff.   
MICKEY: Oh. Your yoga moves sound angry.
HOPE: I mean, the thing about monks being all chill, walking slow and talking really quiet? it's not true. Even monks curse. Everybody knows that.
MICKEY: Well I don't know too much 'bout yoga, or monks. Know a thing or two about cars though. I worked in a car shop practically since I was a kid. With my dad. D'you want.... d'you want me to take a look at it for you?
HOPE: Um...
MICKEY: Hey, I got nothing else to do...
HOPE: (To the audience)
        What if I'm wrong about him? Say I leave him here. Then, I go off live my life, NOT being killed by a random vicious serial killer out in the desert, but then I watch the news from some diner or something, about how 'a shirtless man was found deceased on a side of the road in the middle of nowhere. Evidence shows someone came to rescue him and tend to his burning car, but alas that mystery person left him to DIE and should burn in hell for it!' Or, come back deformed or something. I haven't decided yet on my after life. Or.... if I give him a ride out of here.... assuming he can fix my car.... he could shred me to pieces and I'll be eaten by his dog or something. Ew. Or... or he's perfectly normal and we go on and live happily ever after. I mean, he gets his life back, and I get mine. 
MICKEY: Least I can do for saving my life, is help you get out of here so you can live yours.

Hope contemplates, and then heads to her truck and lifts the hood of the truck up. 

MICKEY: All right, let's get all greasy and shredded!
HOPE: (To the audience)
       Did he just say....shredded?!?

​To be continued...