I got to the corner of the big road and set down the gasoline can. It was heavy, the old metal kind with the aluminum tube sticking out of the top, made out of a cheap spiral of metal that somehow held together enough to make a spout that wouldn't leak everywhere. The sweet chemical smell sloshed up out of it, though the can itself rang with a heavy thud as I set it down.

I surveyed the signs for the three gas stations I could see, to see who had the best price on gas. I breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that the gas station on my side of the road had the best price. I didn't want to cross the four lanes without a light if I didn't have to. It would be two blocks walk in either direction to get to a corner with a light, and the gas can was heavy enough while empty.

I heaved it back up again, the big awkward metal can swinging about my relatively small body as I picked my way through the rock garden that surrounded the gas station and sidled up to the pump. I felt awkward, being a little body among big hulking metal cars, all driven by adults who glanced at me with what I'm now sure was disinterest, but at the time felt like disapproving glances.

I looked over the pump, trying to figure out what lever I pulled first, and what I needed to do next, afraid that if I didn't get it just right, the dollar in my pocket wouldn't be enough and they wouldn't let me take the gas. The sign at the edge of the parking lot read "87 .. 89… 97", and now that I was staring at the pump, I saw little yellow signs that said "81 … 87 … 89". I had to brush the dirt off of the little labels before it started to come clear. I glanced back up at the sign. "Unleaded. 87(9)." Back at the pump. "Unleaded. 81." I wasn't sure whether that was right or not, or which one to believe. I took the handle down from the pump, and then realized that I hadn't taken the cap off the can. I set it down and winced as a trickle of gas came out. I looked up at the meter to make sure that wasn't going to cost me money, and breathed a sigh of relief as the numbers stayed fixed.

I took off the cap and put the pump handle in it and squeezed. The handle didn't move. I squeezed harder, and finally it collapsed against itself. 

Nothing happened.

I took it out and another little drizzle of gas came out. At least the numbers didn't move.

I saw the gas station door open, and I was ready for the attendant to chase me away.

It was just another customer.

I looked at the pump again, and the handle balancing precariously hanging out of the gas can, barely not tipping the empty can over, the heavy hose hanging awkwardly from the handle.  No buttons. Nothing to say "make gas go" or anything so obvious.

A woman in a mini van pulled up at the pump on the other side. I watched her for a moment, and spotted my mistake. The holder for the pump handle was a lever! 

I lifted it. Nothing happened. 

I squeezed the handle, and a little jet of gasoline shot out of the can and onto me, and the sweet stench swirled around me. I let go and checked the numbers. "0.16". I had to think for a minute, but I figured out that that meant I had to get that much more about 7 times. I gingerly squeezed the handle again. "0.75". Eek! that was a lot bigger. I squeezed once more, and just enough came out. "0.96". I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled down the lever and replaced the tap handle, another little drizzle of gasoline splashing onto me.

I capped the gas, and the stench of gas kept swirling around me.

I went inside and peeked over the counter.

"I have gas on pump 1"

The attendant didn't see me at first.

"Oh. Hi. That's 94 cents."

I handed him the bill.

He handed me a nickel and a penny.

"And a piece of candy." I handed back the nickel.