Bakersfield

Mr. N spun the wheel of the Lincoln Continental so that it kicked up dust in the face of the man sitting on his porch. The man coughed once and took another drag from his cigarette. He spat onto the swirling dirt and waited for the man in the Lincoln to come out. The door creaked open and freshly shined black shoes touched the gravel ever so lightly. Then they crunched the ground roughly as he made his way towards the man at the porch. He didn't even close the door.
"What are you doin' here? You were supposed to be in Antarctica with Mr. K," said the man at the porch. He looked up at Mr. N