I came across this story a couple of days ago. I wrote it several years ago and as best I can remember, only one other person has ever read it. Since I read it the other day I have been wrestling with the idea of posting it. So far I haven't published much fiction on here, but today, watching the wind bend huge trees like it did the night five of them fell, I went through the story again and decided maybe it is a good day for it. Warning, it is fairly long.
Drive the road slowly
Tim Jones
Copyright © 2014 Tim
Jones
"I
want to get a job erasing."
The
question, demand, came out of the jumble in the backseat, as much of a
disorganized jumble of luggage and modern instructional materials as three
people could throw in there in the rush to get into the car and out of the
cold, cold that knocked the thermometer's mercury all the way down to something
like 40 degrees below zero. It
came, too, from the jumble of a mind thrown awry for reasons experts were just beginning
to understand, a jumble that produced excitement, enthusiasm, innocence.
"I'm
not sure there are any jobs erasing, Seth. Why do you want a job erasing?"
"I
want a job, I want to move out. I
want to move to Anchorage. Can I
move to Anchorage?"
The
driver: "Maybe you can move
to Anchorage. We'll have to
see. Do you want to get a job and
move to Anchorage."
"I
want a job. I want a job,
erasing. I like erasing. I want to see a movie. I want to see two movies. Can we go to a movie tonight?"
"We
can go to a movie. It's going to
be late when we get there. But
tomorrow we can go see a movie."
"I
want to see Rain Man. Can we see
Rain Man?"
"Yes. I want to see Rain Man, too."
"Did
you ever see the movie Silverado?
I saw Silverado. A guy went
into a place and ordered a drink.
They told him they wouldn't give him any. The sheriff suspended him from town. I don't want to drink alcoholic
beverages. They're bad for
you. Why do people drink them when
they're bad for you? I won't smoke
ever. I'm never going to smoke and
I'm never going to drink things with alcohol in them. The sheriff suspended him from town. He suspended him from town. Why did he do that?"
The
passenger: "Was he a bad
guy?'
"No,
I think he was a good guy. Why would
they suspend him from town?"
The
passenger, again: "He was a
stranger in the town. And
sometimes people who live in a small town are very close and when a stranger
comes to town they don't trust him.
They look at his clothes and the way he does things and if he looks like
a bad guy they don't want him around."
"But
why did he get suspended from town?
Am I a stranger? Will I be
a stranger in Anchorage? Will they
suspend me from town?"
The
driver, "No, most of that
only happens in movies. Yes,
you'll be a stranger in Anchorage, but people don’t just throw you out of
town."
"Why
did they suspend him from town?"
The passenger: "When somebody causes trouble they throw him out in the
movies. They tell him to get out
of town. 'This town's not big
enough for the both of us.'"
The
driver: "It's called being
86ed, 86ed when a bartender decides somebody is causing trouble, fighting with
people or..."
The
passenger: "...throwing up on people..."
"Throwing
up on people. The bartender says,
"you’re 86ed, you're
out of here."
"Can
I get a job? I want to get a
job. In Anchorage."
"Yes,
you can get a job. Maybe not in
Anchorage. When you graduate from
school. How old are you Seth?"
"I'm
l7, 17 and a half. Is that old
enough to get a job? I want a job
erasing."
The
Driver. "I'm not sure there
are any jobs erasing. Is there
anything else you can do?"
"I
have a job at school. I just got a
job at school."
"What
do you do at school."
"I
erase the blackboards."
"Is
that your whole job?
"No,
I do vacuuming, too. I vacuum
places."
"Do
you like that?"
"Yes,
I like vacuuming."
"Well,
there are jobs vacuuming.
Janitorial."
"Janitorial,
Janitorial. Yahoo. Janitorial. I can do janitorial.
Yahoo. I can do janitorial
in Anchorage."
The
volume of music from the tape player grew, filled the car. Outside, snow-frosted mountains rose
above a narrow river valley, a low winter sun sending blue shadow to give
texture to the crags and crevices.
Cold, that sun for all its promise meant only that it was clear, clear
and cold outside the car.
The
passenger: "If you were to
have a baby this way. How would
you go about it? I mean how do you
find the guy. How do you
choose. And if you find the right
person, what happens to him?"
"I'm
not sure. I haven't thought it all
through yet. I know several men,
nice men, right now."
"Breeding
stock," a laugh.
"Yes,
I suppose," a nervous laugh.
"I don't want to get married again. I really don't think I want to get married again."
And,
from the jumble in the back, "Go away, go away, get out of here. Get out of here."
"I
don't think I could do that. Just
have a baby with a woman and then leave.
I would want to participate.
It's a responsibility. I
think it would be tough to find someone you'd consider as a possible father who
wouldn't want to participate."
"I
know. There's artificial
insemination. That's
possible."
"Did
you ever see the cartoon in Playboy?"
"Which
one?"
"There's
these two women walking into a sperm bank talking. Walking out of the building is this gnomy looking guy with
warts and a hunchback and he's counting a wad of money."
"How
sensitive of you to say that," she thought it but said, only, "That's
a good one."
Cold
intruded into the conversation. A
window had opened.
In back a head was out the window, hair
flying in the breeze, a face reddening in temperatures of 40 below, at 65 miles
an hour.
"Seth,
what are you doing? Close that
window."
"Your
smoke. I was getting your smoke
out of the car."
"Better
close the window."
"Here,
I'll crack the wing."
"Seth,
close the window. He's going to
open the little one here. That
will let the smoke out.
"All
right. I'll close the
window."
The
Driver: "You must be excited going to Anchorage, too. Glad to get out of that small town for
a while."
The
Passenger: Well, yes and no. I do have work to do. But I'm not leaving under the happiest
of circumstances. We've kind of
gone our separate ways."
"I'm
sorry."
A
nod. A closed look. Please drop the subject.
"Who
can you talk about private things with?
Who do you tell private things to?"
"How
about your mother, Seth. Sometimes
you can talk things over with your mother. Seth, do you call her mother, or do you call her Eileen?"
"I
call her mother. It's OK. I had another mother. I called her Mary. But I call Eileen Mother."
"What
happened to Mary?"
"She
went away one day. She went
away. Then my father went out and
found me a new one. I call her
Mother. Can I talk about private
things with her?"
"Sometimes
you can. Sometimes mothers aren't
the right person to talk about private things."
"Then
who can you talk about private things with?"
"Why
do you ask all this? Do you have
private things you want to talk about, Seth?"
Silence
grows in the back seat. Silence
within the sounds of the rock music."
"Do
you want to talk about private things, Seth?"
"Yes."
"You
can talk to me Seth. You can talk
to us."
"I
want to talk about sex. I want to
talk about making love. Can I make
love? Can I have sex?"
"Yes,
Seth, you can."
"Can
I make love, can I get married and make love with a woman?"
"Yes,
you probably can."
"Oh,
Boy."
"Have
you ever had sex, Seth. Have you
ever touched a girl?"
Silence
blossoms again in the back of the car.
Silence within the music.
Then, "No."
"Have
you ever masturbated, Seth?"
"What's
that? What's masturbated?"
"Have
you ever touched yourself? Have
you ever touched your penis?"
The
back seat went quiet again. So did
the passenger side in front.
Staring
out the window, "How do women talk about this? How can these words come out so frankly, so bluntly. She works with people like this all the
time. It must come up often. There must be an incredible tension
among people like this, people who know about sex, but probably never have had
and probably never will have it.
But to hear the words from a woman's mouth, penis, masturbate. How does she talk about this so
frankly? Is it clinical technique?
Or, is she like this? Does
she talk like this? And why am I
so concerned about it? It doesn't
really offend. It doesn't
shock. It fits right here. It's the right thing to say. But why does it sound so blunt. It sounds so incongruous coming from
her. Are you really Prufrock after all?"
"It's
all right, Seth, it's all right to touch yourself. Everybody does it.
Women do it too. It's all
right to touch yourself."
"Can I make love? Can I find a woman and make love with her."
"In
time, maybe, yes, maybe you can find a woman and make love with her."
"Have
sex?"
"Yes,
in time."
Again
the silence in the back seat. Paul
Simon sings "Call me Al" for the sixth or seventh time in a row, a
time of absorption, absorbing a thought of great magnitude.
The
passenger, "When you do this, you have to go slow, Seth. You can't just grab the first woman you
see and marry her and have sex.
You have to get to know her.
It takes time."
Still
silence.
The
passenger: "I'm a great one to be advising anyone on that. Here I am a 46-year-old adolescent,
blunder through all this and then I decide I can tell a kid what he should do
with women."
The
driver stares straight ahead, the hint of a smile curls the visible side of her
mouth. Eyes straight ahead, no
comment. You said it, not me.
"I
want to make love in a wet suit. Can
I make love in a wet suit?"
"Ha-
Ha. I don't know, Seth. It sounds awfully uncomfortable."
"I
can do it. I want to make love in
a wetsuit."
"People
do it in water, but I never heard of anybody doing it in a wetsuit. It would be awfully uncomfortable.
"I
do. I want to go with a woman and
make love in a wetsuit."
The
Passenger: Maybe a big one. Room enough for a pal and you?"
"What?"
"He
said, maybe a big one. One both of
you could get into."
"They
have zippers."
"Maybe
you could, don't they zip all the way down around the crotch."
Another
one of those words, those frank words.
"You wouldn't want to get caught in it."
"What?"
"He
said you wouldn’t want to get caught in it. You wouldn't want to get your penis caught in the
zipper. It would hurt."
Another
one.
"You
can keep the zipper down."
The
Passenger: "Yeah, zipper
down, penis up." Now I said
one.
"...If
you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal..."
"Whew,
a wetsuit."
"Might
work." Can I talk like her,
around her? Here I'm telling him
to go slow with women. Then we're
talking about sex in all these terms, and here I am, bleeding, because I
haven't learned to go slowly myself.
Why can't I slow down, why can't I let things happen. Slowly, we might have found
something. Intensely it didn't
work. But they're games, aren't
they, games. If you love, you love
and you go the limit. Who am I
protecting telling him slow? Women
I think. But, Seth, too. He gets hurt here. Things he won't understand will
happen. So much happens when
another person is involved and he isn't ready for that. Can we prevent, at least, him getting
into trouble, serious trouble. The
blind innocent so filled with enthusiasm without the tools to function. Trouble coming, for Seth, maybe for
others. Ha. He'll probably get along better than I
do. Where do I get off advising
him about women. If I knew
anything I wouldn't be in this car.
I wouldn’t be going to the same city as Seth, or if I did it would be
with his enthusiasm, not this incredible sorrow, this torment.
"Can
I meet girls in Anchorage? I want
to meet girls in Anchorage."
Can
I meet girls in Anchorage? Do I
want to?
"Maybe
you can meet girls in Anchorage, Seth." The driver.
"John might introduce you to some girls. We're going to a party tomorrow night. Maybe you'll meet some girls
there."
"I
want to go to a party tonight.
Tonight. I want to meet
girls. I want to meet a girl and
marry her and we can make love."
The
passenger: "What about
me. Can I meet girls. Can I go to parties?"
"You're
on your own."
"...let
me be your bodyguard, you can be my long lost pal..." Paul Simon again.
The
driver: "I was going out with this man. I liked him. I
adored him. I worshiped him. We
went out for almost three years.
One day I came home. It had
been a tough day. One of the
attendants had molested one of the patients. He had molested one of the men and he was being
arrested. It was something I
couldn't deal with. I needed some
support. He screamed at me. He screamed. 'That's what you get for hanging around with a bunch of
homos.' It ended right there. I lost so much right there. It was over. Then I couldn't get rid of him. He kept bothering me.
I lost all respect for him.
He wouldn't leave me alone.
I finally just had to tell him and his family to keep him away from
me. It took a long time, but he
finally left me alone. He would
sneak into my house or sit in his car out on the street."
The
passenger: "Isn't it amazing how you can know someone and then realize you
don't know them at all. You went
out for three years. And you
didn't know him."
"What's
generous to a fault? What does
that mean, generous to a fault?"
The
driver: "Well, Seth, oh, do you want to try this one?"
"I
think I can. Seth, generous to a
fault. That means you're so
generous, that you actually hurt yourself."
"Hurt
yourself?"
"Not
really hurt yourself. Here, try
this. Suppose you have a hundred
dollars, OK? You need ten dollars
for food. A friend comes to you
and says he needs a hundred dollars.
If you give him 90 dollars which is most of what he needs, you still
have your ten dollars for food. If
you give him the whole hundred dollars, then you don't have any money left for
food. Then you have hurt
yourself. You have been generous
to a fault. You gave all your
money to your friend and now you don't have any food."
"But
Metropolis was generous to a fault.
In Superman III the city of Metropolis was generous to a fault."
"Sometimes
these phrases are expanded, sometimes they're used to describe a broader
concept."
"What?"
Help.
A
look from the driver. You're in
this now. You got into it, you get
out.
"OK. Metropolis was generous to a
fault. They let the Joker in. They let him stay. He was a stranger. He was a bad guy, but Metropolis let
him in, let him stay, they didn't suspend him from town. Metropolis was generous to a
fault."
"Is
Anchorage generous to a fault?"
The
driver: "No, Seth, Anchorage
is not generous to a fault. It's
not a bad place, but you have to make your own way. If you do things right Anchorage will be all right."
Paul
Simon: "...da da dad da,
daaa, call me Al." Then,
louder. Absorption.
The
driver: "I like the way you explain things. You do it differently.
You're good at it."
"I
don't know. Maybe I can do it
because I'm not in the field. I
don't know the terms, I don't know the cliches. I don't couch things in the clinical. Maybe when you're so close to
something, you have trouble extracting yourself from everything you know."
"You're
right, maybe. We get too close to
it. Our big drawback in the field
is, we know what we're doing."
"Don't
you wish we could disassociate ourselves from things sometimes?"
"It
might help."
"That's
a good line. The biggest thing
wrong is we know what we're doing."
"Let's
pull in here and use the bathroom.
Do you need to use the bathroom, Seth?"
"Yes,
yes. I need to use the
bathroom."
They
stop at a lodge. The driver and
Seth leave the car running in the cold, enter the log building and a few
minutes later, return. The car
takes to the road again.
The
driver: "You don't need to
turn out the lights when you're done in a public bathroom, Seth. You turn out the light at home, in a
private home, but you don’t need to turn them out in a public bathroom. That's
what the lady was upset about."
"You
just turn them off at home, OK."
"...let
me be your body guard..."
"I'm
glad you’re playing that tape, Seth, I like that tape. It's one of my favorites."
"...You
can be my long, lost pal."
"I'm just drifting through the day until night."
"What? What did you say? Seth. That's something you could put into a song."
"I
think it's already in a song."
"Is
that your words, Seth, part of a song?"
"Part
of a song."
"Some
of the new music I just don't like.
It's just noise."
"I
know. This is one of my favorites,
too. I built my whole cabin to
this album."
"I
like how the light changes on the mountains, look it's so deep blue right
now."
"At
my cabin, from my picture window, you can see the mountains, McKinley, Foraker
and Hunter. The first day I put
that window in, well, the next day, I sat there with a jug of wine from morning
until night and watched the light change on the mountain. It went from pink in the morning to
blue to white then to blue again and lavender and almost purple. That night, there was a full moon and
you could see the mountain in the moonlight – silver. Not much in Alaska really takes my breath away any more, but
when I realized I could see the mountain, and it was a hundred miles away, at
night, it took my breath
away."
"I'd
like to see your cabin some time."
"Any
time, let me know, you’re welcome anytime. We can go out there."
"...if
you'll be my body guard."
"I'm
the best. I'm the best there
is. If I get a job, I'm the
best. I can get a job. Does everybody in the world know
me."
"I
don't think everybody in the world knows you, Seth. There are a
lot
of people in the world. A lot of
people in Anchorage who don't know you."
"But
most people know me."
"No,
Seth, not even most people know you.
You're from a very small place and the world is very big. Most of the people aren't even in
Alaska and all those people don't know you."
"I'm
the best. I'm proving my innocence
because I'm the best."
"Competency. Don't you mean competency, you're
proving your competency by being the best."
"Competence."
"Competence? What is competence?"
"Seth,
that means you're good at something, you're competent."
The
passenger: "No, he was
right. Don't you see? He was proving his innocence by being
the best, proving his innocence by thinking he's the best. Can I write this down?"
"I
wish you would. Write it."
"I'll
always be on time. I'll always be
there on time at my job.
Janitorial. I want to do
janitorial. I'll always be there
on time."
The
driver: "That's good, Seth.
It's good to always be on time." A look to the right. "I'm always a half hour late. There's always something to do,
somebody wants something. I'm all
ready to go and one of my kids does something."
"I'm
the best. I'll always be on
time. I'm the best. Am I the best?"
"Seth,
there are an awful lot of people in the world. It's hard to be the best. You're probably not the best. But you can be good.
You can be the best you can be."
The
passenger: "You can be the
best Seth in the world. You can be
the best you."
"...if
you'll be my bodyguard..."
The
passenger: "Have you ever read Kurt Vonnegut's 'Bluebeard'? He talks about how you can't be the
best anymore, because you have to compete with world champions. TV and communications. Everyone sees the ten or fifteen who
are the best at something in the world and the guy in his small town, small
world, has to compete with them instead of those around him. If a kid runs fast in a race, he's
still compared with Karl Lewis.
You can't be a big frog in a small pond, you're always competing at the
world level, with the greatest of champions."
"Will
I get suspended from Anchorage?"
"No,
Seth, not unless you do something awfully bad."
"I
don't want to get suspended from Anchorage. I won't do anything bad. I won't disagree with anyone."
"Seth,
it's OK to disagree with someone.
People disagree. People
argue."
"Do
people argue with people they love?
Do they disagree with people they're married to? I don't want to do that."
"People
argue all the time. It's part of
life. Husbands and wives
argue. That's how they settle things. As long as you don't hurt each
other. You don't want to say
things to hurt, but people have differences."
The
Passenger: "That's what you
get for hanging around with homos."
"What,
what did he say."
A
laugh, an agreement. "Nothing
Seth."
"I
don't want to argue, I don't want
to disagree."
"No,
Seth, it's all right to disagree."
"I
disagree with that."
"What?"
"He
made a joke, Seth, a joke."
"Oh."
"...I
can be your long, lost pal..."
"I
was up all night. They came and
got me late and we went out and partied.
I didn't get home until four and then I stayed up getting ready for that
class."
"You
must be exhausted. I'll drive if
you get tired. No problem. I had a couple of beers last night, but
I went home early. I fell asleep
watching a movie."
"I'm
Ok. Does my driving bother
you? Let me know."
From
the back: "Go away. Get out of here."
"No,
you're fine. I haven't been
worried at all.
"If
it does, just tell me."
"...if
you'll be my body guard..."
"Can
we go to a party tonight? I want
to go to a party. Can we see a
movie? Can we see two movies? I'll take you to the movies."
"It's
going to be late when we get there, Seth.
We'll be tired. We're going
to a party tomorrow. And maybe a
movie."
"And
shopping. I want to go to
Carr's."
"Why
do you want to go to Carr's"
"Albums. I want to get albums. I have albums. I have enough money for albums. Do I have enough money for albums. Enough for two?"
"I
don't know, Seth, we'll have to count your money. We'll see. How
much do albums cost?
"Nine-
ninety-eight. I want to meet girls.
Let's go to a party tonight.
Oh, boy. Can we go to a
party tonight."
"I
don't think we can go to a party tonight.
Maybe we can rent a movie at the store."
"Star
Wars. Did you see Star Wars? I don't want to be a stranger. I don't want to be suspended from town. Why did they suspend that guy from town
in Silverado."
"Do
you remember in Star Wars? The
scene in the bar where they make the deal with Han Solo to get them out of
town. They walked in and there
were all the crazy looking creatures in there. The bartender said to Luke, "We don't serve your kind
in here?" Do you remember
that? Luke, even though he looked
all right to us, was out of place with all those crazy looking critters in the
bar. He looked like a
troublemaker. 'We don't serve your
kind in here.'"
"I'm
not a troublemaker. I won't
disagree. I'm the best. They won't suspend me from town."
"Good,
Seth."
The passenger:
"Are you hungry, Seth?
Would you like a hamburger. "
Turning, "Can we stop up here at MacDonald's. I'm starved."
"Sure,
are you hungry, Seth? Want a hamburger?"
"Yes,
yes. I want a hamburger. Oh boy, a hamburger."
The
driver: I've never been in a
MacDonald's."
"Never? Amazing. How can you avoid that? How do you get through life without ever going to a
MacDonald's."
"For
one thing, I don't eat fried foods."
"Maybe
we can find something. They have
salads."
A
traffic light, the first in 300 miles, turns red. On green they turn up a side street, go a short distance
then turn in under the commercial arches of the hamburger store. They step down from the car and two
watch Seth race for the building.
Inside he's disappeared, a flick of a heel just vanishing behind the
men's room door. Knowing looks are
exchanged, nervous smiles. The
adventure is beginning. In a short
time they're reunited in line, waiting.
"Seth,
why are you jumping up and down?"
"I'm
excited, excited."
Smiles
again.
"It's
all right to be excited. But you
don't need to jump up and down."
"Or
shout."
"Or
shout."
"OK OK, but I'm excited."
"Watch
the other people, Seth. See how
the other people stand quietly.
Watch the other people and do what they do."
"OK. I'll do what the other people do."
"Give
your order now, Seth. Tell him
what you want."
"I
want a cheeseburger. A
cheeseburger and a coke and a strawberry milkshake. And a caramel sundae."
"A
hot tea please."
"A
cheeseburger and two milks. And
make his a double cheeseburger."
"Where
did he go."
"Over
there."
Over
there is a table with three teenaged girls sitting around it. Seth sits in a booth seat next to one
of them, his arm up on the back rest around but not touching her. The adventure.
The
looks on the girls' faces register shock, politeness, nervousness,
understanding maybe, even amusement. Comes a conversation of gentle extraction.
"Let's
go over here and sit, Seth."
"But,
I want to sit here."
"We
don't know them, Seth. We can't
just sit down with people we don't know."
"But
I want to sit with them. I want to
sit with the girls."
"Seth,
we can't just sit with people we don't know. We can't just sit down with them."
"Am
I a stranger."
"Yes,
you're a stranger to them. They
don't know you. There's our food,
let's sit over here. Come on,
Seth. Let's leave them
alone."
"I'm
sorry."
"It's
all right, Seth."
"Did
I do something wrong?"
"Yes,
it was wrong to sit with someone you don't know."
"But,
I want to meet girls. Where are my
French fries?"
"You
didn't order any. Did you want
some."
"I
did, I did. I ordered French fries."
"No
I was right there. You didn't
order any French fries. You
forgot. Did you want some?"
"Yes,
yes. I want some French
fries."
"Here's
some money. Go up to the counter
and get some French fries.
"OK."
He
turns toward the table with the girls around it, then looks back to two faces
nodding "no" to him.
Returning
with the French fries: "I
just want to meet some girls."
"You
have to take your time. You can't
be in a hurry. You have to get to
know them first. See how that boy
is, they know him, but he's standing up talking to them politely. He didn't just jump into the seat and
put his arm around them."
"I'm
a stranger."
"To
them you are, to us you're not."
"I
don't want to be a stranger."
"We
are strangers here, too."
With
the meal finished and the Coke and milkshake in hand they leave the store,
climb into the car and drive back out onto the highway.
"Can
we go to a party? Can we go to a
movie? I want to meet girls. I want to fall in love. I want to have sex. I want to marry somebody. I want to be
nice. I don't want to be a stranger.
I want to learn."
"Did
you learn anything in there?
Yes,
I did, I learned something."
"What
did you learn, Seth?"
Ahead
in the distance a dome of amber light rose over the highway, the lights of the
city reflected under low clouds, beckoning.
"Yes I
did. I did learn something." Then slower, more measured, forced by
realization, "I learned something. I learned to go slow."
Then
silence, lost again in the music.
"...if
you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long, lost pal."
Tim, you should watch the movie Snow Cake. Think you will hear echoes of your story.
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