Free 2 Minutes to Midnight by Steve Lang

handmade soaps, got out, and
trotted down the dark road as light inside the farmhouse window
became brighter.
"If they'll let you stay, maybe you can make a sale to the little
woman of the house." He chuffed.
Tim could see the silhouette of this two story house clearer as he
came closer and it reminded him of every horror story he had read
about broken down travelers in the night. When he did close the
distance, and the moment his foot touched the front step of the
porch, the previously feared torrential downpour ensued.
"My lucky day. That could have been ugly." Tim said to
himself.
He was trying to stay positive, but he was beginning to think the
car would have been a more hospitable place to spend his night. The
farmhouse, dry as it may have been inside, was in desperate need of
major exterior repairs. Floorboards creaked beneath his feet
sending a stark chill up Tim's spine as he surveyed rotted wood
siding and chipped white paint. A bead of sweat ran down Tim's nose
as he pushed the doorbell, heard a loud buzz from the other side,
and waited patiently for someone to open the door. A curtain moved
to the side of one of the windows. Tim caught a flash of a female
face as the curtain fell back in place. Then he heard footfalls
approaching the door.
"Who is it?" Came the female voice.
"My name's Tim Tucker and my car broke down up the road. I was
hoping I could use your phone to call a mechanic." Tim
yelled.
Uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then the door creaked open.
A young girl, probably in her late teens stood in the doorway
smiling at him. Her blond locks hung just above a set of pretty
blue eyes that would have allowed her to escape a murder
conviction. Her perfume had the intoxicating aroma of strawberries
in season. The young woman stood smiling as Tim struggled to think
of something clever or funny, but he stood gawking in an awkward
fashion. The young woman wore a checkered long sleeve shirt, the
sleeves rolled exposing her alabaster skin, and the top three
buttons were undone, flaunting a buxom set of breasts. She had tied
the bottom up in a halter that gave her the cliché appearance of
every farmer’s daughter story he had ever heard. Tim could imagine
laying his head on her chest to take a nap, or being involved in
more exciting activities if given the opportunity. He looked away
from her grin, ashamed.
"You know you shouldn't be prowling about at night it’s very
dangerous in these parts after sun down." She said.
"Like I said, my car broke down and I saw a light on over here."
Tim said.
"My name's Elsa. Um... my eyes are up here, sir." Elsa said.
Tim realized that he had been staring at her chest, and with an
uncomfortable chuckle he pulled himself together. Her smile never
wavered, and as he shook her outstretched hand he thought he caught
a glint of something more than just a friendly southern hello in her eyes. Tim
cleared his throat.
"My apologies, it's been a long day. Do you mind if I use your
phone?" Tim asked.
"Sure, but the mechanic’s shop is closed and won't be open again
until tomorrow morning. Want to come in out of the rain?" Elsa
asked.
"Thank you that would be great." Tim said.
The inside of her house had an old musty odor, like sour milk left
out too long. However, Tim was glad to be out of the rain, and Elsa
was beautiful. He kept his mouth shut and took shallow breaths
until he became odor blind. The interior of her house was not much
better than outside as he followed her into the living room. Heaped
in a corner were old tattered newspapers and a pile of shoes, and
dirty dishes littered the coffee table.
"Please excuse the mess, we’re renovating. The former owners were
not very tidy." Elsa said.
"You live here with someone else?" Tim asked. His heart sank with
disappointment.
"Oh yes, with my daddy, Dieter. He’s down in the basement working
on a project. Don’t worry about him though, he’s friendly and
besides, he’ll be hours down there while we get to know each