Amanda was bored. The drive to Boston was starting to get long and boring. The eight-year old girl was getting tired of sitting in the back seat. She had asked her father how much longer until they Boston so many times that he had grown quite cross with her.
Not that Mr. Blackwell even knew anymore. A light rain had begun falling once they entered Pennsylvania. By the time they reached the New York border, the skies darkened considerably and the rain began falling in horizontal sheets. Her dad was driving much more slowly now, well below 55 mph. Amanda sighed and watched the rain drops pelt her window.
There had been no sign of the hunter and his red Volkswagen van since they pulled out of the campsite. When they stopped at the first rest stop, Amanda had been a little worried about what might happen but she was relieved to see the rest stops were too busy during the day. She got through the first rest stop without incident. Then the second rest stop as well.
Amanda wondered if the man had taken a different route or if he had lost sight of their station wagon. The little girl was still feeling confused about the events of the past twenty-four hours. Although she couldn’t deny that her body felt nice when he touched her, Amanda still felt scared when she recalled all the times he molested her.
It was a strange feeling. Amanda could still feel herself getting itchy and excited between her legs when she thought of him touching her, all the while feeling simultaneously frightened of the idea of being alone with him again. She thought about touching herself between her legs as he showed her, but she felt nervous about doing it. Though she couldn’t explain why, Amanda even felt scared about touching herself and having that good feeling come.
They had just pulled out of a rest stop in Albany when Amanda heard a muted “pop”. The station wagon began wobbling. Alarmed, Amanda and Travis sat up straight in their seats as their father muttered a curse. He re-gained control of the car and slowed down, pulling over onto the shoulder.
Grabbing his rain jacket, her dad jumped out of the car into the misting rain. Amanda could see him circling the car and peering at each of the tires. Finally, he opened the door and stuck his dripping wet head inside.
“Kids, we’ve got a flat tire,” he told them. “You just stay here and I’ll put on the spare, okay?”
“Do you need any help, dad?” Travis asked eagerly. Amanda could tell he was bored as well.
“No, thank you, Travis,” he responded. “You just stay here with Amanda, okay? Just give me a second and we’ll be on the road again in no time at all.” He slammed the door shut. The rear door of the station wagon opened and he began shifting their bags to retrieve the spare tire.
Amanda sighed. She checked her watch. It was almost 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Unbuckling her seat belt, Amanda knelt up on the car seat so she could watch her dad working at the rear of the car.
“Daddy?” she said. “Are we going to eat lunch soon? I’m hungry.”
There was a loud jingle of tools as he spoke. “Amanda, honey, just be patient okay? We’ll stop for something to eat just as soon as I change this tire, okay sweetie?”
“Okay,” Amanda said, sitting back down. The light rain drummed gently on the roof of the car. She fidgeted restlessly. In the front seat, Travis turned on the radio and began scanning the stations.
Suddenly she heard her dad say, “Oh great…” Then he sighed.
Kneeling up again, Amanda peered over the seat. “What’s wrong, daddy?”
“The car jack isn’t working,” he grumbled. “I can’t change the tire if I can’t jack up the car.”
“Oh,” Amanda said, not knowing what she could do.
“Well…” her father said, thinking to himself. “I guess I could…”
He was interrupted by the headlights of a car that pulled up behind him on the shoulder. Amanda’s view was partially obscured so she couldn’t see but she heard a car door slam and a familiar voice speaking.
“Hi there!” the unknown man said. “Having trouble with your car?”
“Oh yeah,” Amanda’s dad replied. “Flat tire. Say, I’m actually glad you stopped. Do you have a car jack I could use? Mine is broken.”
“Sure, of course!” the man said. “Let me go grab it…”
“Hey kids,” her father spoke to them again through the open rear door. “This man is going to help us, so you just sit tight, okay?” He shut the rear door.
Travis shrugged to himself and kept playing with the radio. Amanda, however, was quite still as she looked through the station wagon’s rear window. Although the glass was spotted with streaky raindrops, she could tell that the car that had pulled up was a red van. And the man who came out to help was wearing a bright orange hunting vest.
Fifteen minutes later, the station wagon was rolling smoothly along again the highway again. Her father was humming cheerfully to himself.
“That was great,” he said. “There’s nothing like people helping people.”
“Who was that guy anyway, dad?” Travis asked.
“Just a Good Samaritan who was traveling on the road,” he replied. He looked into the rearview mirror at his daughter who was strangely quiet. “Amanda? Are you still hungry honey?”
His daughter had been staring off into space but his words broke her reverie. “What? Oh. Sure, daddy. Are we stopping somewhere?”
“I thought we could stop at some a diner or something,” her dad answered. “Is that okay?”
The car slowed and her father pulled off onto an exit. Absent-mindedly, he added, “Oh and just to show our gratitude, I asked the man who helped change the tire if he wanted to come have lunch with us. So he’ll be there too.”
Amanda froze when she heard her father speak these words. Her mind was still processing this information when her father parked the car and stopped the engine at small diner. “Let’s go,” he announced. He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. Eager to get out of the car, Travis followed suit. Slowly, Amanda let herself out of the car and joined them.
Feeling like a zombie, Amanda entered the roadside diner. The interior was rather dimly lit but there were several open booths. The waitress smiled at them as they entered.
“Four, please,” her father requested. The diner door opened and someone entered. Amanda was afraid to look to see who it was. But she saw her father’s face break into a grin.
“Roger!” he said. “I’m so glad you could join us.”
Her father shook hands with the man. Slowly Amanda turned. She was face to face with the same man from the rest stops and the campground showers. His bushy eyebrows and mustache were all the same and he still wore his orange hunting vest. He smiled at Amanda.
“This is my son Travis,” her dad told him, “and this is Amanda.”
The man politely shook Travis’ hand. Then he offered his hand to Amanda. After hesitating a moment, Amanda held out her hand reluctantly. He gave her a firm handshake but his thumb gently caressed the back of her hand for an instant. Amanda quickly snatched her hand away.
“This way, please?” The waitress led them to a booth in a dark corner of the diner. Travis slid in first and her father took the place next to him. Amanda stopped, realizing she didn’t want to sit next to Roger. But, being a gentleman, he stepped aside and waited for the little girl to slide into the booth first. She did so unenthusiastically, sliding in across from Travis.
The opened the menus. “So, where are you headed?” her father asked Roger.
“Boston,” he replied coolly.
“Really!” her father glanced up at him, surprised. “So are we! What brings you out there?”
“I’m just visiting some friends,” Roger said, looking over the menu. “How about you?”
Her father and Roger began an easy conversation of small talk. Amanda was a little too short to reach the table of the booth so she held the menu in her lap as she read it. She wished she could sit further away from Roger but the booths were so small that his leg touched hers as they sat. But she didn’t really feel scared or nervous. Surely he wouldn’t do anything here in this diner with her father and Travis sitting across from him…
The waitress came and took their order. Everyone asked for cheeseburgers except for Amanda who wanted a hot dog. “So Roger,” her dad said, taking a sip of water. “How long have you been driving on this trip?”
“Oh, it’s been a while,” Roger shrugged. “I’m coming from Colorado.”
“Wow, Colorado!” her dad remarked. “That’s quite a long drive for one man.”
“It has been a long drive,” Roger remarked. His moved his hand under the table and rested it against Amanda’s knee. “But I haven’t been bored.”
Amanda shifted uncomfortably but Roger’s hand stayed clamped to her knee. The little girl looked up beseechingly at her father but he was oblivious to her predicament. No once could see what was happening beneath the diner table.
“No?” her dad inquired? “How do you keep from getting bored on the road?”
Amanda sat absolutely still as Roger’s hand crept up from her knee, massaging her thigh. Roger smiled at her father. “I take a lot of breaks at rest stops,” he explained. “It gives me a chance to unwind.”
Roger’s hand moved to Amanda’s inner thigh. The eight year old girl was keeping her knees clamped shut but he was insistently trying to push her legs apart. Amanda gazed helplessly at her father but he had started a new line of conversation with Roger. Travis, meanwhile, paid no attention to anyone as he doodled on a piece of paper. The young girl was left to fend for herself.
Roger’s hand gently caressed her leg through the thin cotton material of Amanda’s pants. She had chosen not to wear jeans today but instead was wearing a pair of form-fitting cotton pull-ups. The heat of Roger’s hand was easily apparent on against her skin. His fingers eased closer and closer to the juncture of her thighs, despite Amanda’s attempts to keep her legs closed.
The waitress approached carrying a large tray of food. Amanda felt Roger’s hand retreat so she relaxed her legs. But the man quickly took advantage of her lapse and thrust his hand toward the young girl’s defenseless crotch. Amanda flinched and sat bolt upright as Roger cupped the puffy folds of her girlhood. Her face reddened in embarrassment as the man secretly fondled her as they sat less than three feet away from her father.
“Here’s your food!” the waitress announced cheerfully as she began distributing the plates. Amanda looked up miserably at the waitress, hoping she might notice Roger’s hand. But the waitress only filled up the water glasses before smiling and leaving the table.
Everyone began digging in hungrily except Amanda who had lost her appetite. No one noticed that Roger was eating only with one hand. His other remained surreptitiously beneath the table, his finger roughly mashing Amanda’s little clit through her thin pants and underwear. The little girl inhaled sharply, a tiny gasp of surprise as Roger’s fingers elicited the appropriate response from her body.
“Aren’t you hungry Amanda?” her dad remarked. He noticed nothing out of the ordinary. “You said you were really hungry before.” Amanda pursed her lips and shrugged non-committally. Half-heartedly, she began picking at her hot dog. Despite her discomfort with the situation, Amanda couldn’t help but feel a slight tingle of excitement between her legs as Roger molested her.
The three males quickly devoured their hamburgers in a matter of minutes. Amanda had only managed half her hot dog by the time the waitress came to clear away their plates. Nevertheless, she let the waitress take away her plate. Amanda hoped they could leave soon but her hopes were dashed as Roger and her father ordered some coffee.
Roger let up on her crotch for a moment. Amanda let herself hope for a brief moment that he was done with her. Instead, the man slipped his pinkie beneath the elastic waistband of her pants and underwear. Amanda swallowed hard, miserable, as he began probing her bald slit. She shivered as his finger poked at the puffy flesh of her privates.
“It looks like it’ll keep raining,” her dad commented, looking out the diner window.
“Yes,” Roger agreed, his pinkie delving into Amanda’s moist inner pinkness. “It’s pretty wet.” Roger glanced at Amanda and grinned at their private joke. Embarrassed, Amanda realized her body was responding to Roger’s touch. Her ears flushed red.
Finally, the check came and her dad insisting on paying for Roger’s lunch. “It’s the least I can do,” he said firmly. After much discussion, Roger let him pay. It seemed like an eternity, but the waitress finally returned with her father’s credit card and he signed for the bill. After fondling the little girl one last time, Roger withdrew his finger from her pants.
Everyone slid out of the booth. “Well, Roger,” her dad said, “I want to thank you again for pulling over to help with that flat tire.”
“Naw, don’t mention it,” Roger said, waving his hand in dismissal. They exited the diner.
“If it hadn’t been for you, we’d probably still be sitting there,” her dad joked. They reached the station wagon. Amanda wished her dad would hurry up and unlock the car door so she could get in. Instead her dad thanked Roger yet again and shook his hand.
“Have a safe trip now,” her dad told Roger.
“You too,” Roger said, smiling at him. He moved next to Amanda and patted her shoulder. “You be a good girl Amanda,” he smiled at her. Roger pretended to pinch her nose but instead he let his pinkie swipe underneath her nostrils. Amanda immediately detected the tell-tale scent of her arousal on his finger. She blushed furiously but neither her dad nor Travis noticed what had just happened.