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SHORTY No. 2
Hitchhiker on the Devil's Highway
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| In the Northwest section of New Mexico lies a stretch of Federal Highway 666. This piece of road has had more accidents and deaths than any other thoroughfare in the state. It is known by locals as the Devil’s Highway.
I am an inspector for the gas pipelines in the Northwest part of the state. I live outside Farmington, NM. One October morning I had a 10:00 A.M. meeting in Gallup, NM, which is about 120 miles from my home. I left home about 6:30A.M. figuring I would get some breakfast along the way. I traveled West on Highway 64 into Shiprock, NM where I turned South onto Highway 666.
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| I had driven for about an hour and a half and as I left the town of Sheep Springs, NM, up ahead I spotted a female hitchhiker. As I passed her I noticed she looked out of place, like a Hippie from the 60’s. It’s a dangerous business to pick up hitchhikers. I don’t know why I ended up doing what I did but I slammed on the brakes and backed the car toward her. In the rearview mirror I saw her running toward the car.
I unlocked the passenger door when she reached for the door handle. She got in and placed a small backpack on her lap. She said nothing but stared straight ahead. She was attractive although slightly overweight. She wore a flowered blouse under a well worn army coat with denim bell bottoms and beat up boots. I moved the car forward onto the highway and turned to her and asked, “Where are you headed?” Without turning toward me and in a very small voice she said, “You may let me off when we get to Tohatchi.
”For the next 30 minutes I tried striking up a conversation with her but I received only one word or very short answers to my questions. I found, from these limited answers that she was 19, lived outside Sheep Springs and was on her way to see her boy friend in Tohatchi. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that she kept glancing at the rosary I had wrapped around my rearview mirror. Each time she looked at it she seemed to momentarily get this look on her face of what I took as disapproval; as if something smelled bad. I shrugged it off and at the time thinking nothing of it.
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As we approached Tohatchi, I said, “Well, here we are,” as I pulled the car over to the side of the road. She left the car throwing a curt, “Thank you,” over her shoulder. I pulled back onto 666 and promptly forgot the hitchhiker. I had about 25 miles to go and I was looking forward to a cup of coffee and a hot breakfast in Gallup. I got to Yah-Ta-Heywhere Highway 264 intersects 666 and there on the side of the road was the same hitchhiker with her thumb out. I stepped on the gas as my mind quickly processed the fact that there are no roads that would circumvent 666 and no cars passed me all morning. There was no way in Hell she could be there, unless she was from Hell. It was then I recalled her expression when she looked at the crucifix on the Rosary suspended from my rearview mirror. I may have given a ride to the Devil’s sister on Hell’s Highway. I drove into Gallup, stopped at the first bar that was open, drank my breakfast and decided I would take another, though longer, route to get back to Farmington.
I wish to remain anonymous.
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