On the Hook



Unfortunately, the nearest gas station was in Amboy, a little town on old Route 66.
It was a Sunday, and Amboy--which consists mainly of a gas station, a diner, and a motel, collectively known as "Roy's"--was closed. Back when Roy owned the place, we'd have been in good hands. But apparently Roy sold out not long ago, to two guys who, I would later find out, have already built quite a reputation in the East Mojave. We met one of them, who was very grouchy at being disturbed. In fact, he acted like he was coming down from something. The Grouch claimed he didn't have a gas can, then he decided he did have a gas can, but he demanded a $50 deposit for it. Well, what could we do? We pooled our money, gave him the $50, and headed back to Whip It! & I-40. PonyBoy decided to hang in Amboy until we returned the gas can. The Grouch probably considered her further collateral.