SEND FOR ME

John Thomas Tuft
4 min readMar 22, 2024

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SEND FOR ME

By John Thomas Tuft

Percy owns a small filling station out in the back country. His 49 years have been filled with hardship, hard labor, and a broken heart. The road where the filling station sits was not paved until the 1970s. (If you are unfamiliar with the term ‘filling station’ then most likely we are of different generations.) Percy’s station had two pumps until they started blasting the top off the nearby mountain. In a world hungry for steel, coal is still a staple and taking the top off of a mountain is used to get access to a whole seam from the top down. The workers at the site drove a lot of diesel pick-ups so Percy finally put in a diesel pump. A decade later, the mine shut down leaving an ugly scar in the Appalachian Mountains, and an unused third pump at Percy’s, who was still paying back the small business loan it had required. Percy took this all in stride because the back country folks are used to fending for themselves and hardship is just part of the package life hands them.

Percy joined the Marines after his third try at finishing high school failed. He was the sniper’s spotter in a Scout Platoon and saw action in Somalia, completed his GED, and made Gunny by the time of the second battle for Fallujah in Iraq in 2004. He left the Marines after that horror and took over his destiny in the back country at the age of 29. It was then that he met Raelynn. Percy got a call about a car out on the bypass that needed a jumpstart. He got in his wrecker with a spare battery and drove the half hour. Beside the stranded Corvette stood the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Raelynn was tall, with dark hair and delightful eyes that matched with an easy smile. She saw his eagle, globe and anchor tattoo and said, in a voice that melted him, “Thank you for your service. My brother was a Gyreen, too.” Percy’s eyes questioned the past tense. “IED got him,” she whispered. Percy nodded his sympathy and tried to still his racing heart.

“Got to go back for a different battery. You can ride along if you want. Beats hanging out here by yourself.” Raelynn accepted the offer and the next hour and a half were moments of bliss for Percy that he would never forget. Raelynn spoke to him as an equal not an oddity. Her down to earth perspective and easy sense of humor captivated Percy, not to mention the way she lowered her eyes each time she caught him staring. Turns out, Raelynn represented a company that was interested in developing the old warehouse district down by the river and she would be in town for a few days. An unlikely friendship turned into an unlikely romance. Percy worried that he was just another fling for Raelynn while he was head over heels in love. On the last day Raelynn stopped at Percy’s filling station to say goodbye. After the lingering goodbye kiss, Percy whispered in her ear, “If you’re ever lost, send for me.” And with a breezy wave, she was gone.

Percy did not know if she’d even heard his words, but he could not stop thinking about her. For the next twenty years he never forgot Raelynn. He ran the station, did a fair amount of fishing and hunting, bought an old ’74 Charger SE and fixed it up, more as a hobby than a necessity. He had become an avid reader in the Marines and now he devoured books of all sorts. Somewhere in the back of his mind he told himself he was doing it in order to be a better, more attractive man for Raelynn. He tried dating other women from the area, but no one compared to her. On the weekends, Percy would visit his mother in the nursing home over in Morefield, patiently telling her that he was still waiting for the right woman. He would sigh when she said she wanted grandchildren before she died. So did he, but…

Percy took to scanning the business papers online, searching for news about Raelynn. He learned that she had risen to the rank of VP of Finance in her company. The riverfront property that her company repurposed became a tourist attraction and the town felt alive again. He kept her number in his phone but could not bring himself to call. Nor did he get a call or message from Raelynn. Out in the back country, Percy’s filling station remained the same. He knew his customers, their families, their challenges, and triumphs. At some point he started taking the restored Charger to Summit Point, sometimes to Winfield to take on all comers on amateur nights. He was making a life while learning that twenty years can be a grind, or they can be a blink. They can be kind, or they can blind and bind. Dealer’s choice.

One night, in a week of driving rainstorms, as Percy was closing up so he could go help fill sandbags down by the river which threatened to flood, his phone pinged. “I’m lost” was the message on the screen. Percy’s hand shook as he checked and rechecked the screen. “I’m lost” the words cut right through. He finally texted, “Where are you?” He waited. “Where you found me” came the reply. Twenty years are a grind, or they are a blink. Percy did not hesitate. An hour later, the old wrecker truck pulled up near the pile of sand near the river. Percy climbed out, soaked through to the skin. The passenger door opened slowly. Raelynn climbed down, took Percy by the hand, and together they went down to the river to fight against the flood. Twenty years can be kind…or they…

Words are magic and writers are wizards.

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John Thomas Tuft

John is a novelist, retired mental health counselor and minister and sheep farmer, who now lives in Roanoke, VA.