We drifted down the old back country roads. Fence lines and pastures. House windows spewing light into the darkness. The touch of skin as she passes the blunt. Incubus’s Aqueous Transmission booms through the car’s stereo system.
I reach over for the volume knob and turn it slightly to the left.
“Hey, watch this car up here.”
I’m not sure why I always agreed to let her drive, especially when we were smoking, which was all the time. She paid me no mind and we were quickly upon the old pickup.
“What the fuck are they doing?” She said, as she steered the car into the left lane and accelerated past the truck.
“Jesus Anna, these are backroads. Not everybody likes flying down em at sixty. Plus, maybe they’re rollin one up.”
“Fuck em.”
I roll my eyes, yet a small smile spreads across my lips. Country girl without a care in the world. I glance over at her; the dashboard lights illuminate her face ever so slightly. I’m thinking I should say something – anything to explain the feelings that have sprouted like vines and wrapped themselves around my heart.
“So…”
I’m abruptly interrupted as the car is suddenly teeming with light.
“Oh shit!” Anna shouted.
“You must’ve really pissed em off when you flew by like that,” I said as I turned around. The old pickup was right behind us with the high beams blaring. I could just about make out the silhouettes of two men sitting in the cab.
“Look, just be easy. Maybe slow down and let em pass.”
“Fuck these motherfuckers!” She said, as she quickly hit the brakes before accelerating once again.
We momentarily pull a distance ahead, but you can only drive so fast on winding back roads and the two men are soon right on our ass again. I look down and realize I’m tightly gripping the handle on the door. The blunt is still smoldering between the fingers of my left hand. I take three quick hits and then duck the rest of the roach out the window. The sweetness of the grape flavored White Owl lingers on my lips.
“Jesus, just take it easy. Take that right up here and head for the 7-11.” I mutter as I finally let out a hacking cough.
I glance over at her once more; her hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Her face hides her emotions, but the air seems to be saturated with anxiety and fear. I take a deep breath as we meander this way and that. It helps that she knows these roads so well from our many pot fueled rides, but I once again mutter to God and turn around into the vociferous light.
~~~
I remember the excited voices of teenage boys and girls. I remember the smell of the brown leather bench seats. I remember the squeal of the door closing as the bus driver pulled that large handle to her right.
I was in middle school; eighth grade to be exact. I was a proud member of the boys basketball team. I had played rec league basketball and soccer, but this was the first time representing my school. It felt like the big time. It was a way for me to feel part of something, but I also found that it boosted my social status, especially with the ladies.
It was the first time I really saw Anna. The cheerleaders sat towards the front of the bus, while the boys basketball team sat towards the back. It must have been on the way to that playoff game we ended up losing. It wasn’t anything much. As I sat down, I looked up and there she was. Eyes locked with mine. She lit up for just a second before turning back to her friends. It was that light.
~~~
The light was blinding as it ricocheted off the rear-view mirror.
“They’re just fucking with us Anna, take the right up here and see if they follow.”
“I know Pete! I’m going to the 7-11!”
As the road straightened out for a spell Anna pressed down further on the gas pedal and I gripped the handle on the door that little bit tighter. The light from the truck’s headlights faded as we dangerously turned right towards Route 7. The yellow lines returned to the center of the road as we raced ever closer to our destination. The truck continued to follow.
~~~
I remember my dad’s story.
“Nothing good can come from a middle school relationship.”
I don’t remember saying this. But apparently, I made an impression on my dad. I was a genius in his eyes, wise beyond my years. I imagine I was somewhat afraid of having the type of relationship some of my friends were engaging in. I certainly yearned to give into my sexual urges but dating in middle school scared me. It was such a social and public thing, where everyone knew everything. I was too shy for all of that, plus I had a Catholic upbringing.
Anna had been on my so-called radar ever since that glance on the bus. But in high school she dated one of my best friends. Daniel was the star striker on the soccer team, while I was the goalkeeper. Daniel was a clever player, and not just on the soccer pitch. High school guys will do most anything to get laid. Pussy is the goal for a lot of men even after high school. This has always been a difficult perspective for me to understand. However, I also wonder if women don’t come to expect it and are almost put off when you aren’t eagerly going for their pants.
Daniel had a habit of cheating on his girlfriends and then confessing his sins to me. Anna was no exception to the rule. So of course, Anna came asking one day.
“So, Pete. I gotta ask you something.”
“What’s up Anna?”
“Has Daniel ever cheated on me?”
I tried not to let my face give anything away, but deep down I really did want to tell her the truth.
“Umm. No, he’s never mentioned anyone else.”
“I know he tells you everything!”
“Anna, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“And you’d tell me if I did?”
“Yeah, of course I would.”
I know she deserved better. But Daniel had also trusted me. Daniel was just doing what guys do. The girls loved him, but I think deep down they knew he wasn’t the faithful kind of lover. He was charismatic, flirty, fit, and handsome. The girls couldn’t help themselves just as much as Daniel couldn’t help himself.
It was hard hearing him talk about his sexual adventures, especially the nitty gritty details about Anna. But all I cared about in high school was being a good goalkeeper and winning at all costs. I couldn’t risk our team’s comradery and I couldn’t break Daniel’s trust. But when Anna asked me, that light in her eyes dimmed.
But the soccer team remained a tight knit group and we won the State Championship back-to-back seasons. I had fulfilled the dream I had set out to accomplish as a young boy. It’s a strange thing watching your dreams become reality. We owed those medals and those trophies to the community that supported us, not least the girlfriends who helped us feel like men.
I remember her visiting our apartment in college. Again, she was dating one of my best friends. I was happy for Matt and Anna. They seemed destined to stay together for the long haul and although each day my feelings for Anna grew, I told myself that I should be happy as long as she was. I’ll never forget my conversation with Matt a few weeks before their sudden breakup. We were outside my girlfriend’s dorm; the night air grew chilly against my bare arms and legs.
“What’s going on man?”
“I gotta tell you somethin dude.”
“What’s up? Everything alright?”
“So, uhh me and Anna have been freakin out, ya know. She was pregnant.”
“Holy shit man…That’s great though, right? What ya’ll worried about, it’ll be all good.”
“Dude, listen. The other day she started bleeding. Like really bleeding. We lost it man. But listen, don’t tell anyone.”
I never did.
~~~
This wasn’t our typical blunt ride, but more often than not we ended up at some sort of convenience store in search of munchies. I was sure the 7-11 would be a safe haven and we’d be laughing about this little car chase in just a few minutes as we picked out Doritos, Funyons, and Cheetos.
But my optimism began to wane as the truck’s headlights once again bathed her car in intense light. Maybe these two rednecks had found the trouble they were looking for.
“When we get there, just run inside.”
The 7-11 sign streamed light upon the road just ahead and the pickup followed us into the parking lot. Anna pulled into a spot near the door and bolted inside. The truck didn’t park but came to a stop right behind us. I took a deep breath and quickly stepped out of the car. Standing up straight with my chest out, I turned to face the men.
~~~
I remember the river. It was just the other day. I remember the sunlight winking and waving through the leaves of the trees as we walked along that inlet on the Shenandoah. The water grows colder with each advancing step. She asks me to pick her up and carry her. Skin to skin we walk silently as one. The river inlet led to a basin of water just below the small falls. She climbs out of my arms as the water grows deeper and lets out a little moan of shock. The water is frigid. The crash of the waterfall fills our ears as we duck beneath the overhanging rock.
~~~
“Hey, old man!” A raspy voice called out. I still couldn’t quite make out the faces of the two men sitting in the dim cab of the truck. Old man? Was he talking to me? I turned my head slightly, looking for the old man he spoke of.
I didn’t see the barrel of the shotgun slip out of the truck’s window. But then the flash and explosion. My left hand erupted and was gone, blood splattered and poured to the asphalt below as I stumbled shakily against the open car door behind me. My mouth agape, my whole body starting to quake, I stared at my wrist momentarily. A loud click brought my focus back to the barrel of the gun. Another flash and explosion and I felt my body sliding against the car door. Drool dripped down my face as I lowered my head peering down at my caved in chest. My head stayed slumped, but I lifted my eyes, past the men in the truck, past the light thrown from the 7-11 sign and into the stars on the horizon.
~~~
I remember huddling together under the waterfall. I remember how you brushed that dirty blonde hair away from the bluest eyes. Smiles and little glances. I couldn’t quite hold eye contact with you because that meant I would really have to go through with it. A kiss.
This was an entertaining read. Big problem, though: You need to decide whether you're writing in past tense or present tense, and stick with it. The constant swapping pulls a reader out of the story.
Hi, Peter! The story structure vaguely reminds me of this book I encountered last year in college. It's called "I Remember" by Joe Brainard. It's kind of a word collage of memories. Since you like experimental fiction, perhaps it will intrigue you.
Also, my favorite thing from this story was actually your dialogue! Each line sounds incredibly natural, like real people are speaking them. As someone who struggles with creating believable dialogue, you've definitely impressed me. :)