A Life Wasted

Out Of Gas

Twenty miles after starting this road trip, I entered the small town of Lincoln.  I gave thought to going around the town as I knew the police there would have been alerted to look for the truck, but since the gas gage was now hanging well below the "E" I had little choice but to go into the town and look for gas.  Minutes after entering the town a cop spotted me.  Fortunately, he was on the opposite side of a divided four lane stuck in traffic.  There was even a barrier between us so he'd have to go to the red light to turn around and give chase.  The second I saw him look at me I floored the accelerator.

The old Ford jumped forward for about two hundred feet then the engine died.  I flipped to the second tank and the engine engaged again without having to restart it.  I didn't think the cop could still see me so I took a right turn.  The road I was on had a hair-pin turn a block ahead, which I took too fast and clipped a mail box with my left mirror.  I drove two blocks then at the cross road turned right.  Still driving as fast as I could I was now looking for a place to get out of the truck.  I loathed the thought of being on foot again.  Twenty minutes earlier I had sworn to myself that I'd not leave the truck to hoof it again, but it was either that or give up, and that wasn't something I was willing to do either.  I was doing about 70 mph when it ran out of gas again.  I yanked the wheel back and forth, trying a "wiggle the wings" trick I had learned for when a plane runs out of gas.  Nothing.  I switched the other empty tank and wiggled the wings again.  Still nothing.  It was bone dry.

I looked everywhere for a place to hide the truck and had decided on a church parking lot when I spotted a gas station ahead of me.  By the time I reached the gas station I'd slowed so much I didn't think I could reach the tanks.  But I did.  I barely had to tap the breaks to stop.  I put it in park and jumped out and grabbed a gas pump handle.  I could hear police sirens from the south and west.  I was happy to see two gas tank access doors on the driver's side and immediately rammed the nozzle in the closest one.  I turned on the pump and pulled the trigger on the pump.  Nothing.  I looked at the gas pump and saw a sign that said, "Pay First."  This was a problem.  I looked up at the small enclosed area where a young guy watched me.  I held one hand in the air as if to say, "Ah, come on."  He must have turned it on because the gas started pumping. 

I watched the gallons tick by as I heard the sounds of multiple police cars getting closer.  When I couldn't stand to wait any longer I pulled the nozzle out and threw it on the ground jumped in the truck and started it.  I put it in gear and drove about a foot when two police cars blew by without slowing.  I hit the brakes and looked up at the guy in the booth.  He was watching the police cars so I backed up and continued filling the tank.  When the next police car came blasting by I demonstrated my "nerves of steel" by standing there and filling the tank.  When it was full I filled the second one.  With both tanks full I drove off without paying.  I am sure you get that I didn't have any money at all.  That's not allowed in jail.

I knew the police would be called and immediately turn around so I drove the opposite way from the police cars that had passed.  As soon as I was clear of the gas station attendant's view I started making turns that would take me out of town to the west.  With two full tanks of gas I now had considerable range.   For the first time I felt like the odds had shifted in my favor.  All I had to do was get out of the area without a police officer seeing me and I had an excellent chance of getting clear and truly being free.