Road Trip

We drove out past the reception of the radio stations and kept going. It was unbearably hot and the air conditioner creaked and groaned ineffectively trying to keep up with our demands. The sun wilted all the animals while the plants stood upright soaking in the blazing light. The heat was close and present; it made itself known through the windows and against the will of the poor compressors.

My passengers heads lolled and rolled with each bend and bump in the road. The stations had turned to dust and static long ago, but we keep it going on a constant scan through the FM dial. Occasionally we would hear a lost voice trying to talk through the white noise before the scanner started looping again. When there were snatches of music my mind would jump at the chance to identify it, usually in vain. It was mostly mariachi music: blaring horns, warbling bass and sometimes human cantantes lloronas.

The miles melted under the melting tyres as the sun declined in strength. Miles were measured in hours and the sun measured our travel in days. The mountains were closer and despite the climb of the grade the engine has quieted its wheezing. None of the stations worked now; the scanner kept looping in giant frequencies from 88 to the 107. We had briefly switched to AM about 3 hours ago when it was much hotter. We were surprised to hear christian music and voices talking to each other or us about how God wanted to save our souls. Jesus was his ambassador and wanted to get to know us. Another channel wanted to sell us a lot of different things from a new super vacuum or a diet shake or a sponge that cleaned up any messes. We thought it might be good to get a sponge to mop up some of the bodily fluids my passengers were leaking from every pore.

That was back near the last crest of the hill. Now we were close to the other side of the valley and my eyes scanned a good place to turn off. The sun was going down and the sky at our backs was yellow turning to orange. Ahead were deepening purples and violets turning to blue and pink overhead, hidden by the roof of the van. We were anxious to arrive at the spot and unload but patience was required. A vista could appear a few minutes away only to drive for another 45 minutes and not approach any closer.

The van started to sway and buckle as we turned off onto a side road that was cracked and full of holes. My passengers jostled and swayed ludicrously, but didn't wake. The van headed up toward a hill we had noticed from down below. The sun had gone down completely by now but the van lights did not get turned on; they wouldn't be needed yet.

Winding around a sand dune, the van struggled and finally gave up with a gasp. The driver side wheel had slipped off the broken side rode and sunk into the fine sand. The air conditioner had stopped a while ago but we hadn't realised it. The pools of sweat in every fold of skin had collected without notice.

Trudging behind the dune I decided this was the best spot and was meant to be. As the light faded, I started to dig four person-sized holes in the sand as sweat accumulated and fell into my eyes and dripped off the end of my nose. My passengers weren't moving and carrying them here would be the hardest part. I had a few hours left, at least.

I stared at the moon rising behind two peaks in the distance and tried to memorise the details and landmarks of the area. I'd need to remember these details when the police questioned me, if they ever did. I'd need to remember this spot and the sweat dripping from me as comfort. I would be able to look back on it and laugh at their impotence in trying to find out the answers they sought.