Oh god, I shouldn't have continued my trip tonight. I should've just booked another day in the motel. It is fucking pouring right now, and I can hardly see a few feet ahead of me as I try to drive along this country road at a snail's pace, trying my absolute best not to get stuck or veer off the road. And then, disaster strikes. I can see a rickety bridge going across the river in front of me... or rather, I can see what used to be a rickety bridge. Now it's completely wrecked by the rapidly flowing river, meaning I'm stuck here. I can't deal with this right now; I need to find somewhere to stay. Anywhere will do. However, as I scan the surroundings sitting here in my car, all I can see is a vague idea of a light somewhere off in the distance. That's my best shot, though, so I have to go for it.
Turning around my car and driving in the general direction of the light, I eventually find a junction that leads closer to it, and I can eventually make out what seems like a small family farm. Hopefully, I can pay whoever lives there so I can sleep in the barn or something; I'm not picky at this point. I park my car in front of the house, then rush through the rain to get to the front door. Since there's a light on in the house, I hope that whoever lives here is still awake, and so I bang on the door. After a while, a young guy wearing denim overalls opens up, looking surprised but friendly enough. "What in tarnation are ya doin' out here in this kinda weather? Ya'll catch a heck of a cold," he asks.
I find myself somewhat embarrassed for just showing up at his doorstep like this, so I start stammering a bit, "Uh, um... I was driving along the road out there, but the storm broke down the bridge, so I'm, uh, kinda stuck here..."
He looks out the doorway in the direction of where that bridge was. "Ah, heck. That darn thing was right overdue fer repairs, no wonder the the rain tore it up... well, alright, c'mon in, stranger," he says, stepping back into the house and motioning for me to follow him.
"Are... are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose, and I'd be happy to just have a place to park my car, I'd sleep in there just fine..." I reply, still feeling a bit unsure as to whether I can just take advantage of his hospitality like that.
However, he just waves off my concerns. "None a' that! Ma 'n Pa might be on vacation in Florida, but I bet they'd be right mad if their son made a stranger in need sleep in their darn car! Yer comin' in, and that's final!" he says with an intent that makes it clear he's not taking "no" for an answer, so I make my way inside the farmhouse. The place looks quite cozy, and even has a fireplace crackling away, giving the room a nice warmth that feels so good after coming in from the wet and cold outside. "What's yer name, stranger, and where're ya from? I'm Caleb, and I'm a Southern boy, born and raised on this here family farm!" he then says, holding his hand out for a friendly handshake, which I accept.
"Um... Dean. I'm Dean. And I'm from Maine," I reply, a sheepish grin on my face.
Caleb laughs at my response, but it's a warm laugh, not a malicious one. "Ha, yer a real Yankee, huh? Well, no skin off mah nose, Dean, mah Ma taught me ta always treat strangers right, even if they're Northerners," he says before a short silence falls over us. He then continues, "Now, ya caught me right as I was fixin' to hit the hay, and I reckon yer right tuckered out too after drivin' in that storm, eh? So what you say we git ta sleepin'?"
Now that he mentions it, I do feel rather tired. The whole panic over getting stranded and all that has pretty much drained me of most of my energy, so I nod my head. "Yeah, sounds alright. I'll just crash on the couch, then, if that's fine..." I begin, but Caleb cuts me off.
"Nah, nah. Don't ya start with that talk there! Ain't no guest o' mine gonna be sleepin' on some couch. Now, ya can't stay in Ma 'n' Pa's room, but I reckon mah room'll be fine fer ya," he says, and I'm shocked. He's going to let me sleep in his bed? My reaction seems to amuse him, and he gets a cheeky grin on his face. "I dun know how they do it where ya come from, but down south, we don't mind sharin' a bed with other people. Now c'mon, let's git goin'."
He motions for me to follow him, and I find myself trotting behind him, still trying to process what exactly is going on here. We're heading straight for his bedroom, and as soon as I step inside, I'm struck by how "country" it looks. Everything is wooden, and it smells like freshly cut hay. "Here ya are. Sorry 'bout the mess, it's a bit of a pigsty in here," Caleb apologizes. Then, to my astonishment, he begins undoing his overalls, revealing a pair of tight-fitting undies underneath them. "Oh, hope ya don't mind, but I like sleepin' naked," he adds with a grin. I can only stare as he strips down completely naked, then sits down on the bed while making no effort to cover up at all. "Hey, Dean, ya ain't got to be shy or nothin'. If ya do mind, ya can just stay in yer undies or somethin', but I'm tellin ya, ain't nothin' like sleepin' all natural!"
God, the way Caleb's talking makes it all seem so soft and welcoming, like there's just nothing to it. And really, it's just me and him here... so it's not like I have to be embarrassed, right?