Lssn 2- Good Dialog

Introduction to Dialog: Lesson 2 - Good

The Oregon fog added to the gloom Gus suffered from on driving his '69 Mustang south on Interstate 5 south of Salem. Cloudy wisps limited his view as the sun dropped below the horizon. He shook his head and tried to fix his sight in front of him, but the beams of his headlights bounced off the mist, scattering the light in different directions. Slowing down, he wished other vehicles would appear on the road so he could follow their red rear view lights.

Driving in fog always frightened him. He could never be sure whether his view of the highway would stay true or if it would stray over the edge. Other drivers he had ridden with never seemed to share his fear, making him wonder how they could navigate the murk without his apprehension.

He stayed along the curb aligning himself with its white line. A grey silhouette manifested on the side of the road and jumped back from Gus's car. Gus jerked the wheel to the left and pulled back onto the center of the lane. Wiping beads of perspiration from his forehead, he slowed down, crawled to a standstill, and parked. The hitchhiker became visible in his right hand mirror approaching from behind.

"Have I lost my mind?" wondered Gus. The rider drew alongside his car, knocked on his passenger window and motioned for Gus to let the window down. The figure was a teen-age boy.

"How far are you headed?" asked the stranger.

"Climb in," said Gus. He pushed down on the button to unlock the passenger door. "I'm on my way to Medford, just north of the California border. Gus Chamberlain."

"Ralph Kronos," said the boy. "I'm headed to "LA."

Gus revved up the motor and pulled back out onto the freeway, remaining silent. His guest hummed something that triggered Gus's memory but he could not bring the tune's identity to light despite his efforts. He began to feel uneasy around Ralph. There was something strange about the boy.

"Where'd you say you're from?"

"Salem."

"What were you doing in Salem?"

"Time!"

Gus laughed nervously. Ralph was not smiling. Gus gripped the wheel. He wasn't sure but he thought he had heard the state mental hospital was in Salem.

"I'm dropping you off at the next town, kid. You can find another ride there."

."Where'd you score the Mustang?"

"It's been in the family," said Gus. He counted the minutes until the sign for Corvallis appeared. He exited the freeway and parked at the end of the off-ramp. "Get out of here, kid!"

The boy just smiled. Gus got out of his car and walked around it. Opening the passenger door, he prepared to throw the teen-ager out by his collar if necessary. He opened the door and reached for the boy.

The slice of the knife cut his midsection from one side of his abdomen to the other. His squeal turned into a scream. Ralph turned the knife ninety degrees and slashed upwards to Gus's bellybutton. The withdrawal of the weapon from his gut left him hemorrhaging on the sidewalk.

"Thanks for the ride," said the boy, "and for the cool wheels!"

Gus recognized Ralph's tune. The lyrics to the Doors "Riders on the Storm," passed through his head.

There's a killer on the road,
His brain is squirming like a toad,
Give this man a ride,
Sweet Emily will die,
Killer on the road.

Gus sagged to the ground.