The Journey Part 6

c 2009 by Randal Schaffer

About five miles from nowhere, somewhere between Fargo and Jamestown, something bad happened to his car.

It started as an intermittent, metallic tapping sound. tap-tap then nothing for five minutes. Then tap-tap-ta-ta-ta-tap - - - tap-tap - - - tap then nothing for another ten minutes or so. Then it started constantly, and got progressively more aggressive. tap-tap-taptaptapTAPTAPTAPTAP and then something went screeBANG under the hood of his car and thick white smoke starting coming from under the hood.

He pulled over in the widest spot of the road that he could find, got out and popped the hood. It was only an hour or so until sundown, and he sure would like to be in town before that happened. ANY town.

As he looked over the vast complexity of the car engine, he wished… and not for the first time… that he had paid attention when his dad had tried to teach him about cars. His dad was a master mechanic… a man who spoke gasket and piston and alternator as easily as he spoke English.

It had just never really interested him. It had all seemed not only incomprehensible, but actually DULL. And he hated dull.

Well, now he had a feeling that he knew what dull was.

About a half hour after his car broke down, another car headed past him, headed East and going FAST. He tried to flag it down, but it was simply no dice. They either didn't see him, or just didn't care. As the car flew past, all but the middle finger on his waving hand dropped, and he yelled "FUCK YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKERS!" Then, under his breath, just for emphasis, "fuck".

About twenty minutes later, another car, coming the other direction, actually pulled over the shoulder and stopped. He had been leaning against the driver's side door, and when he saw that this car was actually stopping, he started to run across the road, waving his arms. A small, old man had been in the process of getting out of his car, but when he saw this his eyes widened and he got back into his car.

"Wait!" He yelled when the old man started his car. "Wait, goddamnit, I'm not dangerous, WAIT!" He got close enough to see the old man, a terrorized look on his face, slam the car door lock down before the old man sped out so fast that he sprayed gravel for about fifty yards before he actually managed to get back on the road.

He stopped in the middle of the highway, his hands still in the air. What… the… FUCK?! His arms dropped to his sides.

"What a buncha bullshit." He said to himself as he walked back to his car.

The sun set, and he turned his hazards on. He decided that he would sit in his car to avoid getting run over in the dark.

Some time, in some dark march of the night, he fell into a light, uneasy sleep and dreamed of Jimmy. It had been… oh… probably a year, maybe two before he'd allowed himself to think of Jimmy when he was awake. But in his dreams… at night… sometimes… there was Jimmy.

Maybe that was why he didn't sleep.

Maybe the dreams of Jimmy were just… too much. He and Jimmy playing catch. Teaching Jimmy to ride his bike. Jimmy blowing out his birthday candles.

tap tap tap

Jimmy crying on his first day of school, not wanting to be separated from him.

TAP TAP TAP

The dream vanished like water down a drain, and he sat up from the half-slump that he had fallen into. He rubbed his eyes and felt water there, tears under his eyes and on his cheeks as there almost always were after dreams of Jimmy.

tap tap tap

"Everything okay in there, sir?" A bright light invaded the cab of his car, and he squinted into it, rolling down his window. A North Dakota cop stood there, flashlight in hand, looking around the interior of the car. Probably looking for drugs, he thought. Most likely not a lot of excitement out here.

The cop asked if everything was okay again. He started to answer, and then cleared his throat and tried again. "Uh… yeah… officer. Uh, no I mean. My car broke down."

The cop nodded. "Uh-huh. Can I see your license and registration, please?"

He nodded, and fished the two documents out, handing them to the cop. As the cop turned away he said "Um… listen… officer? Is it okay if I step out of the car? I have to pee and stretch my legs something fierce."

The cop shone his light around the car again and asked "You got any weapons or anything stupid like that in there?"

He thought. No knives? Nothing that could be construed as a weapon? No. "No sir, nothing."

The cop nodded and walked back to his cruiser.

He stepped out into the early morning air, stretching his arms over his head until his back popped. Then he walked to the side of the road and created a small stream in the wasteland.

As he walked back up the shoulder, the cop was returning from his cruiser.

"Well, this all checks out, sir. Sorry for your troubles, but you can't leave your car here."

"Well… what do you suggest, officer? I mean, it won't go anywhere." He dropped into the driver's seat, leaving the door open. The cop leaned in after him. He turned the key, but all that happened was a click and a pop. "See? It won't even start now."

"Well, you can't leave it HERE."

He drew a long, slow breath and said "Well… officer… maybe you could use your radio to call a tow truck for me?"

The cop looked around the deserted, lunar-looking landscape under the nearly full moon, looked over his car again and then back at him. "Yeah, I could do that." The officer said.

"Thank you." As the officer walked back to his car, he thought 'obviously they require IQ tests to be a North Dakota state cop.'

The cop came back a few minutes later and said "Okay, got it called. Donny Mack's. They'll be here in a half hour or so. Coming from Tappan."

To make himself busy, the cop set up flares around his car. He said "Uh… officer… what time is it?"

The cop looked at his watch and said "About quarter after three. Should be here by four."

"Okay, thanks."

Donny Mack's Tow Truck arrived about twenty minutes later, and the cop drove off, waving.

The tow trucks was one of the big ones that could pull the whole car up on the bed of the truck, and he did. As the car was being winched up, Donny Mack asked if he'd like a doughnut and a cuppa joe. He accepted a chocolate doughnut, but passed on the coffee. He had never acquired a taste for the stuff.

Once the car was loaded and secure, Donny Mack said "Damned stupid insurance rules say that I can't let you ride in the cab, but you can ride in your car if you want… if you'll sign a waiver."

"Better than walking to Tappan, I guess. Where’s the waiver?"

He signed the paperwork, then climbed up onto the bed of the truck and into his car.

For thirty solid minutes on the ride into Tappan, he slept soundly without a dream.