Dad, Helper Extraordinaire

I think my dad is superman.  Unfortunately, he does too.  So when a hitchhiker needs a ride he's ready and willing as long as he is packing and no vulnerable family members are present. On a trip back from Santa Cruz after dropping off my eccentric Great Uncle Jim, my father, just over the Oregon border on highway 1, spots a hitchhiker. Always wanting to assist his fellow man he becomes as excited as a child whose parents just agreed to a puppy after 6 years of harassment. Yet he has a plan that involves positioning a son in the back seat poised to choke at the slightest hint of aggression and also makes sure his concealed weapon is within easy reach  he pulls over to rescue said "man in need". As the rain pours off of the man's slicker into the front seat as he bends down to have a seat my dad yells, "need a ride?" The hitchhiker drops jovially into the seat with my brother crouched like a tiger, feet on the seat, arms splayed like a ninja ready for the choke out signal from his father. As they pull onto the highway, my dad asks why the man is out on the road in weather like this. Hitchhiker, it turns out was just released from prison, scored some weed within the first hour of freedom and was making his way to a party in some Southern Oregon taverny shit hole . He insisted for 127 miles, every 2 minutes, that he repay my dad's kindness with bags of weed. Father, all x-mormon and x-cop of him politely declined for the remainder of the trip. Upon reaching their destination, hitchhiker insisted dad come in for a drink. He wouldn't take no for an answer until like a person coming off of an acid high and realizing they are standing barefoot next to a freeway where their shoes are being run over frequently by mac trucks, he enters reality. My brother "crouching applesauce, hidden tiny hands" was poised like a cat of the night, with glowing eyes, ready to choke in the back seat, became suddenly visible. The man decided there was no time for warm goodbyes, hastily squeaked a thank you, and scurried inside the dive tavern like a mouse seeking refuge in the brush from a diving, driven, hawk.