The hopper gas station Ghost

The hopper gas station

It a quarter until 5 and business is slow as usual and there hasn’t been a customer in about an hour. My name is Richard Carr and I work here. By myself. Alone. Anyway it’s a breezy day in October and like I said business is slow and I have been fighting myself on whether I should sleep for a while or watch some television. I think I will rest my eyes because Irene was up late last night sick with the yella fever. And I’m quite tired and based on the pace of today I think resting my eyes won’t hurt anything. As I’m drifting off…..slowly……..un..t….il……the slam of a pickup truck, I jump up and go outside because part of my job is to help pump the gas and as I ran out there, there was a man with overalls and a clean cut haircut with old boots that have walked a thousand miles. I shout “Hello Sir may I help you?” he swung around and looked me dead in the eyes and said “I think I’ve got it!” with a grizzly, scratchy voice. So I head back in behind the register and start bringing the charge up which rang up to 55 cents and as usual he headed inside with a beer in hand and so I rang him up saying “Do you live around here?” he explained how he owned some land 30 miles away and has had that land from generation to generation. So after a few minutes of steady small talk I discover his name. His name was Herbert herbertson and then he left on his way. I yet again does off with the background hum of the small desk fan I have located to my right. After about an hour another customer comes in and this person is a female and she was kind of softly crying and I asked her what was wrong and she said and I quote “ today the bank is taking my families land and keeping it on the anniversary of my father’s death!” “How could they?” I answered well I’m so sorry to hear that and I really sorry about your father he’s probably a good man. She looked at me and said “He was, his name was Herbert Herbertson and he died almost 14 years ago today” my faced turned white as I remembered his face, his touch, his voice and I said “By any chance did he where old worn out overalls and old boots?” she looked up with her beautiful, soft face “yes, yes he did how do you know?” I just guessed, scared out of my mind I just realized that I saw a ghost the hour prior. I could never forget that day for the 65 more years I lived. Although I told everyone, no one believed me and to the grave I took that story hoping that I would see that man again.