The Journey

He decided to skirt the obvious question for now. She had proven volatile in the past and he wanted to play it safe. Plus, it seemed they had plenty of time to get to more sensitive subjects.

“What’s my part in this? Helping to get you there? You know more then I do.” He was definitely offended that he wasn’t the main character in his own delusional end of life event. He shook his head, that was just sad.

“No. Your job isn’t to help me. It’s to learn. Because you fucked up. Badly. People you loved died. And you will always be the person that did those terrible things.” Not what he was expecting, she continued “You also need to live with it. And move forward…for them.” The disgust rose in her voice as she spoke, her hands tightening into fists on the steering wheel as she merged onto 95 South.

Ouch. He was sorry for trying to spare her feelings a few moments ago.

“Wow, fuck! You can’t lead into shit like that? I know ALL of those things!” Tim didn’t think he was talking loudly, which made it odd his neck muscles had started to strain “I don’t need you to tell me how much I fucked up! If that’s what this is let me out!”

She didn’t flinch as he shouted, only became increasingly angry. Then, a stillness overcame her and her voice came out steady and conversational, starting to speak just as the sun rose above the horizon past her left shoulder. He grudgingly granted her the impeccable timing.

“I am not here for you. I am here for them. No matter how much you twist and justify, you know that they need you. Pretend this is your only chance to save all of this. Will you take it?”

His anger froze. He never tried because he knew it would never matter. Now he was being told that it might. It could. He closed his eyes and reclined his head as she rushed them through the early morning. Cars began to merge onto the highway behind them. He could do this. It seemed his psyche was laying some tough love on him. Nothing Rachel had said was untrue. Nor had she said it unkindly. Rather, the bluntness of the delivery had taken him totally off guard. Most people he knew would only hint at something like that. At most. Someone close may ask, but in a way they could just back off if they met any resistance. Rachel just laid it out there on him. Fair enough.

“Ok I’m sorry.” He hated saying that. Could count on one hand the amount of times he had, and meant it anyway. “How do we get there? Peru, right? We just drive?”

He had a tenuous grip on the situation, the rules they were operating with were far more slippery.

“Mostly yes” Though she seemed to have dismissed her earlier animosity, there was still a look in her eyes he didn’t like. “We will drive to the border and see how things look from there. We may have some “help” again. If not, we figure it out and move on. We get to the door, I go in. You’re done.”

This seemed like a pretty concise plan to Tim.

“We drive straight through or do we need to sleep? And can I ever drive? You’re crazy.” He said this because it was true.

Rachel had settled to between 85 and 90 miles an hour. The engine hummed beneath them, the big car gamely dodging nimbly around any car going slower than them. They never stayed in a lane for long, moving left and right constantly to frogger through the open spaces between cars.

“Yeah, we stop.” She didn’t acknowledge his comments about her driving but she did drop down to 75 and stay mostly in the high-speed lane. “We’ll need gas and food. To sleep at night. We need to act normal. In general people will ignore you. Just like usual.”

He got it. Blending in happened to be a specialty of his.

“We have a time limit on this?” Seemed a reasonable question.

“Nope. We just need to get there. It should be fairly uneventful.” She hesitated, putting words to concepts that did not have them. “It’s not a trial…it’s a journey.”

This sounded reassuring on its face, but journeys could be perilous too. He closed his eyes and leaned back again. The sun pressed, unseen but felt across his cheek. The miles passed smoothly beneath the wheels. He was starting to have nothing to do but think and he did not like it. It seemed Rachel may have gotten the same itch because he heard the blinker sound. He cracked his left eye open, a natural squint against the light that shone past Rachels profile. She had put on the right blinker and appeared to be taking an exit. Rachel took a short ramp then her first right off the highway. She guided their car into an empty parking lot that used to serve a Toys R Us.

“Smoke break!” Rachel said cheerfully as she dug through the center console when they stopped.