They’d been on the road for three
days now, continuing down the I-95 and making stops in between seemingly
endless spurts of driving. They were in some town, as nameless as the rest of
the other plots that cluttered the map they hardly used to navigate the asphalt
river.
Cora
slept in the back of the beige ’98 Corolla, whose upholstery was all but there.
However, this was easily remedied with a few warm blankets that were now
cocooning her fatigued-from-driving body. She wore a face that contrasted the
jubilant colors of the blanket. Staring at her from the rear view mirror, Allan
observed Cora in peaceful slumber with a feeling of temporary relief that
sounded as he exhaled. He continued to stare intently, watching her gaunt face
become obscured by the passing shadows of the road lights, on coming cars and
overpasses. More and more, the shadows seemed to devour bigger portions of her
and reside them in the belly of darkness. Ultimately, this transition was
interrupted when the light of a roaring truck suddenly thrust its way into the
realm inside the car, igniting Allan’s attention to the road he forgot existed
in lieu of the enveloping darkness. And so he drove with anxiety dripping from
his fingertips.
***
“Al,
are you awake? Al,” she whispered with a certain desperation, as if she could
be heard by soldiers in search of hiding enemies. “How long were you driving
for?”
A
dull cough echoed throughout the car.
“About four hours, I think,” he responded,
wrestling to properly adjust himself on the seat. “Why don’t we step out a bit
and get a bite?” he asked in a manner of stating and smiled reassuringly to
Cora, who seemed all but at ease.
Cora
took reassuring glances at herself in the rear view mirror, doing her best to
adjust her matted auburn hair in some presentable fashion and applied make up
to her swollen eyes. She stared deep into the mirror, tracing the road behind
her as far back as she could.
Allan
struck a match and slowly placed it to the cigarette that dangled from his
lips. He took in a drag, staring at the still burning match and then released
the smoke from his lungs, which extinguished the miniature inferno that he held
in his hands. He placed his grimy hands onto his sullen and tanned face, feeling
around the week’s worth of stubble.
He
offered Cora the cigarette.
“No
thanks, I’ll have one of my own,” she said, reaching into her bag, removing a
pack of camels and a University of Maine
lighter. She hastily lit her cigarette, all the while glancing longingly at the
lighter and then quickly dropped it back into her bag.
They
both sat deep in their seats for the time, taking in long and solemn drags that
filled their lungs. Allan turned on the radio. A Jeff Buckley song quietly
occupied the car and then their heads as they stared at the freely moving
clouds out opposite windows. They waited for the song to end before they left.
***
They
exited the car into the unfamiliar surroundings that were all too familiar. “Different
location, same place,” Allan thought. They walked towards a sparsely filled
diner by the name of La Fin. The air was damp and another rain filled day
awaited them, it seemed. It had been rainy ever since they took to the road. By
now the ground seemed to be a rich and grainy pudding, packaged with such
surprises as worms and decayed bones. Bones: little memoirs of lives lived
buried deep beneath more layers of decay and at the top a cherry that’ll end
all the same.
Cora
grabbed onto Allan’s hand, gripping tightly, seemingly so much as to glue their
skin together into an inseparable mesh.
“Allan,
remember. Your sun glasses…” she uttered, running her other hand through hair
that fell before his eyes.
“Yeah,
don’t worry, I’ve got them,” he said, freeing his captive hand, placing it into
his sweater pocket and pulling out a pair of dark shades. He carefully placed
them on, setting them just right on his nose and turned to Cora smiling.
They
entered the diner and took seats at the very end of the aged establishment.
Their seats were well worn, the foam immediately taking shape of their bodies.
Whatever fabric covered the innards of the seats was now completely replaced by
rolls and rolls of duct tape. Their table was nothing more than an orphanage
for discarded gum. The light throughout the diner was rather dim and despite
the windows being completely uncovered, sunlight barely made much of a
difference in illuminating the gray colored place.
The
radio was tuned to the news. Cora listened intently to the story being spoken
about, making sure not to reveal her deep interest to the other patrons. She
was concerned about current events occurred since she had been on the road.
Abruptly, Allan called to the man behind the counter.
“Do
you mind putting on some music? My gal and I would greatly appreciate it.” “You got it,” the man responded,
obliging and unbothered by the request. “Thanks
a lot,” Allan said and ordered two coffees and three donuts for Cora and him.
“Isn’t
this great, Cora? We’re finally doing what we’ve wanted for so long. We’re
together traveling around the country, listening to great tunes, seeing sights,
meeting people, and most importantly, waking up to each other,” Allan boasted,
grabbing onto Cora’s unresponsive hands. “We get to wake up right next to each
other and not have to worry about a damn thing! It’s such a liberating feeling
and I’m so glad I get to do it with you.”
He stared into Cora’s green eyes while he
smiled and counted the blinks before she responded.
“It
is pretty great. I’m mostly ecstatic over the fact that it’s with you, Allan. I
wouldn’t care if we were traveling through all hell, just as long as it’s with
you,” she murmured, looking out the window.
She
caught sight of a bright light in the sky, just over the horizon of trees and
the lone gas-station in the distance. It slowly traveled forward, becoming
brighter with every flicker and bigger with Cora’s increasing heart-beat. Ideas
began to flood her mind of what the light could be. “It’s an angel,” she
thought loudly through the millions of ideas drowning about in her head. “I’m
sure that it’s a beautiful angel destined to take me onto heaven with a loving
embrace,” she continued to reassure herself. The light grew brighter and
brighter and came closer. She could no longer bear the anticipation. She jumped
from her seat, ran through the diner and pushed the door open with what seemed
like her final will. She stared into the sky, panting, with her chest nearly
becoming an entity on its own with every rise and fall of her breasts. The moment
of revelation had finally arrived. The light hovered loudly over her figure all
to reveal a small plane in flight.
Allan
slowly crept behind her, grasping her shaking body and gently setting her down
on a nearby bench.
***
He
sat with her through the mid-afternoon rain that had gently fallen,
continuously stroking back her hair, now only slightly damp. She had stopped
shaking and was now huddled closer on Allan, who loomed over her as passersby
looked on at the distressing sight.
“Allan,”
she said, a bit hoarse sounding from not speaking for such a while. “Can we go
now? I really would like to go.”
“Sure
thing. Are you feeling any better now?” he asked, taking hold of her pale
cheeks.
“I
think so.”
“You
really scared me back there, you know. It’s a good thing no one called the
police or EMT, darling. Just remember that whenever you feel unsure and afraid,
I’m here to hold you tight, okay?”
He
placed his thumb onto his tongue, grasped some saliva, and put it onto Cora’s
lips. He began to gently trace their dried shape and rub in his saliva to add
moisture to them. What was once an arid desert of skin was now a thriving
marsh. He dropped in his head closer to Cora’s and kissed her closed eyes.
They
finally rose from the bench and scanned their surroundings. It was now dark and
what was visible at a distance during the day was now nothing but mere memory.
Any indications of shapes were merely figments of a retrospective and nostalgic
imagination. One could easily doubt the existence of the ground on which they
stood.
Cora
sat up front with Allan, assured to keep him company as he drove to nowhere. This
was in vain, however. All that was exchanged between Allan and Cora were
glances of anxious reaffirmation. They both confirmed reality with sights of
fogging windows from the mounting heat and moisture emitted from their jittery
breathing. At one point, Cora drew a happy face on the front windshield. She
stared at the face, mimicking its smile. It seemed genuine on glass, but
contrived on flesh. A sigh was the best she could muster.
“We’re
going to need a new car,” Allan said, keeping his eyes focused on the endless
stream of winding tar before him.
“Yeah…
I know,” Cora responded, watching the happy face cloud into obscurity.
“Anymore
time in this car and we’ll be seeing the end of you and I, Cora. I can’t have
that. Spending another moment without you—I just can’t do it.”
Allan
abruptly and violently stomped on the breaks. The car came to a screeching halt
in the middle of the road, conjuring up dust settled for years to give a
display of their weary beauty in the headlights. A silence followed, as Cora
stared intensely at Allan while holding onto the dashboard, desperate to catch
her long and gone breath.
Allan
finally turned to Cora in a swift but relaxed motion. “What will you say?”
“Huh?”
Cora managed to utter.
“What
will you say if I asked you to marry me?”
Cora
began to cough violently.
“Don’t
answer that question. I just had to ask. But don’t answer it. Forget I even
asked it. I had to let it out. I had to set that question free to roam the
earth as a vagabond in search of his true calling. Who knows when he gets his
answer, but he won’t be getting it soon. He’ll be in limbo and then meet his
final hour wondering the about the very thing that gave him life.”
He
grabbed the chair’s lever and pushed back his seat.
“Just
look up there. It looks so beautiful and so serene. Those glimmering lights
painting some precise and impossible portrait. Almost makes you want to believe
in something bigger than you and me and this and that. But what’s really up
there? Nothingness. Ain’t shit in between that star and that one,” he said, tracing
the distance between them. “Millions of years of emptiness. It looks endless,
but at some point, it’s got to end. It just ends.” | 
