March 11, 2009

Get in the car.
You got the camera?
Yes yes just get in.

Michael leans in and sweeps crumbs from the seat with his hand and sits down and straps himself in.
He looks at me and says he’s so excited.
I say me too and adjust the mirror and turn the key rumble rumble and off we go.

Turn left here.
Gotcha.
Now left again.
Rightyright.
No–wait, right.
Shit.
Sorry.
It’s okay I got it.

The blanket sky fires rain and hail at us like arrows and everyone else is bright eyes yellow and red floating through the mist kicked up by their feet.
I can’t see anything I say.
Me neither he says. Just keep this lane and we’re okay.

An hour later and the weather still hates us. Two hours. No difference.
Why did you turn.
I saw the sign.
I have the map. You shouldn’t have turned.
I saw the freaking sign okay and it’s not like we’re lost.
Alright.
I know where I’m going.
Alright.
Alright.

So we drive drive and my brow furrows in the mirror. Blue eyes grey sky red lights.
You turned again.
I saw a sign.
I didn’t see one. We shouldn’t leave the highway.
I’m the driver.
I got the map he says and he waves it in my face and I push him back.
Shut the hell up I know where we’re going.

An hour later and we are on the side. The eyes blink on off on off in the rain and we sit staring.
I don’t know where we are.
Me neither.
Where the fuck are we?
I don’t know.
The map?
Screw the map.
Jesus Christ.
Drive.
Where.
Anywhere. Back to the highway. Back home. Anywhere.

There is a road and then it splits into two roads like a snake tongue. Left or right. Snake’s mouth. Left or right? I drive. Slowly.
Left? We ask the dog on the dash.
Yes yes yes he says. We turn. Yes yes yes yes.
Shitty weather Michael grimaces.
You don’t say.
Dash dog yes yes yes.

The road is brown and crumbly and crows eat death on either side.
Look says Michael. He points.
What. I look. What is it.
There were people.
Okay.
No, in the rain. Odd.
Shut the hell up, Michael.
They were moving in the grass. It came up to their shoulders. The grass. They had hats.
Probably hicks.
Yeah Michael laughs.
Gettin’ me some road kill for supper in my best hick accent.
Michael laughs but we jump and shake.
Dash dog YES YES YES.
What did you just hit Michael pants.
I have no idea. I stop and peer into the side view mirror.
Sounded like you ran something over.
Yeah.
Or ran someone over.
Shut up.
Crunch, like that.
I don’t see anything.
Dog says yes yes yes.
Probably an animal.
An animal. Right right right.

I drive. Pearl necklaces on the hood and wipers have a hard time keeping up.