[American Gods] "Vanishing Hitchiker" (PG)
Author's Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's American Gods, Shadow, going to Hawaii and picking up a hitchhiker who turns out to be the goddess Pele
While most people spent their time on Hawaii on the beach or in one of the resorts, Shadow had gotten a job driving a truck for a pineapple plantation, easing the clattery old stake bed GMC along the dusty roads that twisted around the hills and the sides of mountains.
He wrestled the gearshift into a lower gear, the antediluvian gearbox howling as he wrangled the lever, when he looked up to see a girl by the side of the road, a straw hat shading her head, arm out, thumb pointing to the sky above. He lifted his foot from the accelerator and edged the truck to the side of the road, coming up alongside her. The girl leaned her head through the shotgun side window, forearm on the door, adjusting a strap of her red tank top with her free hand.
"You need a ride, ma'am?" Shadow asked.
"Yeah, trying to get to Kona: I'm meeting with my sisters there," she said.
That was fifty miles beyond the market where he would unload the haul. "I'm going that way, but I've got these pineapples to unload first," he said, opening the door.
"Good enough: I can find another ride the rest of the way," she said, climbing up into the shotgun seat.
"Family get together?" Shadow asked, steering the truck back onto the road.
"Something like that," the girl said. "Got any smokes?"
"Got some in the glove box," Shadow said, reaching to unlatch the box. After an interesting encounter with some loas in New Orleans, he had learned to keep some cigarettes on hand. He took the pack out and held it out to her.
"Thanks, chief," she said, taking it from him, shaking one out. She slipped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it, though Shadow wasn't sure he'd heard her hand slip into the pocket of her cargo shorts for a lighter. "Good stuff," she said, taking a pull on the cigarette.
"Take the whole pack: I just keep them on hand for anyone who needs them," he said.
"Thanks," she said. "First time I've seen a mainlander driving a pineapple truck."
"How'd you tell?"
"You work the gearshift like you're afraid you'll break it and you ease around the curves like you're going to fall off the road," the girl said.
"Feels like I'm going to," Shadow admitted.
"You'll get used to it, the longer you stay," she said, taking another pull from the cigarette and blowing the smoke out the open window. Even still, a heavy scent of smoke clung to her, but a more complicated kind of smell. A rotten-egg smell and something almost oily. Shadow glanced away from the road to get a better look at the girl.
She'd vanished. No way she could have jumped from the window of the moving truck, as carefully as he drove. Those vanishing hitchhiker stories had to come from somewhere....
Once he reached the fruit market and some of the market workers helped him unload it, he asked some of them if anyone had seen a dark girl on that particular stretch of road.
"You got lucky, you had a pretty girl riding with you," the guy said, with a grin. "Often she turns up as an old woman in ratty clothes."
"So this has happened before?" Shadow asked.
"You gave Pele a lift: happens a lot around the island," another guy added. "Next time Kiluea gets hot, it'll go better for us all."
"Beats chucking some dumb guy in there," a third guy put in.
The first guy slapped the third guy upside the back of his head. "That's a cliche and you know it."
"Didn't think she was the type who'd take that kind of offering, after she liked the smokes," Shadow said, hoisting another box of fruit from the back of the truck.
fic_promptly's American Gods, Shadow, going to Hawaii and picking up a hitchhiker who turns out to be the goddess Pele
While most people spent their time on Hawaii on the beach or in one of the resorts, Shadow had gotten a job driving a truck for a pineapple plantation, easing the clattery old stake bed GMC along the dusty roads that twisted around the hills and the sides of mountains.
He wrestled the gearshift into a lower gear, the antediluvian gearbox howling as he wrangled the lever, when he looked up to see a girl by the side of the road, a straw hat shading her head, arm out, thumb pointing to the sky above. He lifted his foot from the accelerator and edged the truck to the side of the road, coming up alongside her. The girl leaned her head through the shotgun side window, forearm on the door, adjusting a strap of her red tank top with her free hand.
"You need a ride, ma'am?" Shadow asked.
"Yeah, trying to get to Kona: I'm meeting with my sisters there," she said.
That was fifty miles beyond the market where he would unload the haul. "I'm going that way, but I've got these pineapples to unload first," he said, opening the door.
"Good enough: I can find another ride the rest of the way," she said, climbing up into the shotgun seat.
"Family get together?" Shadow asked, steering the truck back onto the road.
"Something like that," the girl said. "Got any smokes?"
"Got some in the glove box," Shadow said, reaching to unlatch the box. After an interesting encounter with some loas in New Orleans, he had learned to keep some cigarettes on hand. He took the pack out and held it out to her.
"Thanks, chief," she said, taking it from him, shaking one out. She slipped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it, though Shadow wasn't sure he'd heard her hand slip into the pocket of her cargo shorts for a lighter. "Good stuff," she said, taking a pull on the cigarette.
"Take the whole pack: I just keep them on hand for anyone who needs them," he said.
"Thanks," she said. "First time I've seen a mainlander driving a pineapple truck."
"How'd you tell?"
"You work the gearshift like you're afraid you'll break it and you ease around the curves like you're going to fall off the road," the girl said.
"Feels like I'm going to," Shadow admitted.
"You'll get used to it, the longer you stay," she said, taking another pull from the cigarette and blowing the smoke out the open window. Even still, a heavy scent of smoke clung to her, but a more complicated kind of smell. A rotten-egg smell and something almost oily. Shadow glanced away from the road to get a better look at the girl.
She'd vanished. No way she could have jumped from the window of the moving truck, as carefully as he drove. Those vanishing hitchhiker stories had to come from somewhere....
Once he reached the fruit market and some of the market workers helped him unload it, he asked some of them if anyone had seen a dark girl on that particular stretch of road.
"You got lucky, you had a pretty girl riding with you," the guy said, with a grin. "Often she turns up as an old woman in ratty clothes."
"So this has happened before?" Shadow asked.
"You gave Pele a lift: happens a lot around the island," another guy added. "Next time Kiluea gets hot, it'll go better for us all."
"Beats chucking some dumb guy in there," a third guy put in.
The first guy slapped the third guy upside the back of his head. "That's a cliche and you know it."
"Didn't think she was the type who'd take that kind of offering, after she liked the smokes," Shadow said, hoisting another box of fruit from the back of the truck.