Episode 4

There was a loud steady whir, stuffy air, a padded seat. I opened my eyes. A blur of light. I was driving a car. I jerked the wheel to pull the car back into the lane, but pulled it to far and had to correct back. I was in control. It was night time and everything outside of the beams of my headlights was in the dark. A deserted two lane highway. I wondered where I was and where I was going. My eyelids felt heavy I had trouble keeping them open. How long had it been since I had last slept.

My had reached down to the center console and grabbed a cup, pulled it up to my lips and I took a sip. Luke warm coffee with too much cream and sugar. I hoped that my plan for staying awake didn’t involved drinking coffee all night. I considered my immediate surroundings. A low seat, shifter coming out of the steering column, back seats visible in the review mirror. I was in a midsized sedan, a GMC by the logo on the steering wheel if my memory was correct. I was going 64 miles per hour and had three quarters of a tank of gas.

I turned on the radio. Static. I was not in same place that I last listened to the radio. Had I been traveling? Was I returning home? I flipped the stations. Only a handful of stations came through and they were all either country or talk. I could be anywhere. I listened to the talk show for a moment. The commentator was upset by a proposed tax hike. It would ruin small business, the real job creators of this country. I turned the radio back off.

The shoulders of the road were thin on either side, just a small strip of dirt sloping to the ground not far below. There were fields surrounding the road, a tall yellow grass, maybe grazing land, with barbed wire separating the fields from the road and an occasional perpendicular fence separating the fields from each other. The lots were big. A minute or more between seeing the dividing fences. At this speed that meant a mile between property boundaries. I was probably somewhere out West. There were no signs of side roads or buildings of any kind. Just occasional ruts in the dirt where people would pull through the fence to access the fields. These were not family farms.

I could see a wide spot in the road ahead. I slowed down, pulled over and turned off the car and the headlights. I opened the car door and the beeping alarm scolded me. I had left the keys in the ignition. Leaving them there, I stepped outside the car and closed the door to silence the alarm. It was cool, not cold. After the steady noise of the car the night was very silent. I could hear a slight breeze blowing through the grass, but no sound of crickets. I walked to the fence line to relieve myself, looking up to the sky when I did. A clear night. No dark veils across the sky blotting out large portions of stars indicating clouds. No moon either. Maybe It had not risen yet or maybe it was a new moon. I spotted the Big Dipper and following the edge of its cup I saw the North Star. The road was headed East-West with my car pointed to the West.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see further into the night. Mostly flat fields to the North with a slight roll. A solitary tree about a quarter mile away. Perhaps an oak. I turned to look to the West. There was a large irregular line stretching up from the horizon and blotting out the stars. It looked distant maybe miles away yet. It was nearly totally black, but with hints of light towards the top, there was still snow. There were higher points to the left and right, but straight ahead it was at the lowest. A mountain range with a mountain pass. This sparked a deep distant memory, from life times ago, walking in the snow. The thought passed. The road might continue straight, through the gap, or take a bend either North or South. It told me nothing of where I was going.

I decided to continue, walked back to my car, opened the door and restarted the key in the ignition alarm, got back in the seat, closed the door, turned the key and pulled on my seat belt, lights on, shifted in to drive, foot on the gas and I was moving again. Everything was automatic. No searching for the switches, no doubt where the seatbelt would be or about the strength it would take to shift in the proper gear. I took for granted that every world that I found myself in was seemingly built for me. Slow steady acceleration, I was in no hurry. As the sound of the road under the tires reached the right frequency I lifted slightly on the accelerator. I looked down to check the speed, 64 miles per hour. I marveled at the act of faith it took to drive an unknown road at 64 in the dark. How did I know that that road didn’t have a sharp bed, an unavoidable pothole or even an animal carcass in it just beyond the view of my headlights? Would I be able to react in time if it did? Yet my faith did not waiver. You no longer question an action, sensible or not, if done often enough.

A fifth sign: “Silver Lake, ELEV 4,345, POP about 6”. Not much of a town. I slowly noticed lights building in the distance. At first a subconscious awareness that something was a little different, then realizing that there were lights ahead, and finally deciding that they must be buildings on either side of the road. A minute passed and then a second with the lights only gradually growing in brightness slowly pulling apart from a single light into two and then several distinct lights. A road sign, the first one I had noticed, warned of a speed zone ahead, 45 miles per hour. A second sign confirmed that the speed limit was now 45. I changed my speed only after the second sign down to 54. The lights were getting close. A third sign updated the speed to 35 and a fourth enforced it. I slowed again. There was now clear buildings ahead. A farmhouse on the left, only 50 feet off the highway. Only a porch light on illuminating the front. A general store on the right, only separated from the highway by a small parking area. Six angle-in spots, one for each person in town, but all empty.

I came to a stop to look a moment longer. Behind the store was a run down single wide trailer with a 70’s vintage chevy pickup truck in front. Most likely the store owner. Two more buildings with lights on ahead yet on the road was all that made up this town. The store had a single gas pump out front. A sign read regular – 1.27 9/10. I had never bought gas that cheap. The pump looked broken, long since abandoned, the sign left with the last rate at which they sold their last gallon of gas many years ago. The store advertised various beers and the weekly special with pictures of women and cars. I paid as little notice as I could. The building itself was in poor shape. An old roof, probably leaky, windows patched with cardboard in places, yellow paint pealing off of sun distressed wood. A place like this didn’t seem to have many years before the cost of repairing it would way exceed any possible profit it would generate. In another few years the store would go out of business, maybe when the store owner finally died of old age, and there would be little reason to stay in this town and everyone would eventually leave.

I lingered a moment longer, waiting for a sign of life, but did not even hear the usual barking of a dog the vigilant watchmen of every small town. No reason to stay. I lifted my foot from the break and stepped on the gas, a little heavier than before, I wanted to leave this place behind me. The air in the car was beginning to cool off. I turned the heat on, and adjusted it to blow down by me feet. The was immediately warmer, but stuffy and dusty. It was as if I had not used the heater in a long time. I closed my eyes for a second, the were bothered now, slightly inflamed by the new air. I turned the heat down. How much longer did I have to drive before reaching my destination? The road was flat and straight, the land around it featureless.

I yawned and felt my eyes close. I rested them for a second and then opened again. Another quick break of the eyes. I could tell what was happening. Bit by bit I was lulling myself to sleep. I had recollections of this happening before. The head nod followed by a panicked snapping back to full alertness and swearing that I would not let it happen again and promising myself that I would pull over at the next wide spot in the road and take a nap before I drove any further. But this time was different. I felt a deep calm fall across my body. I already knew what was going to happen. My fate was sealed. By choosing not to fight I found myself enjoying the moment. As my eyes slipped closed again I was vaguely away of something large ahead in the road.