DRIVING

The dusty road wends its way up, curving precariously around a yellow rock formation. Bright ochre colored sunshine hits the edges of the craggy surface like giant’s elbows dipped in gold. A dull groan escapes my stomach as it mulls over the bag of nothingness inside its hungry mouth as it screams at my brain for sustenance. Forty minutes ago we had a chance to eat. Forty minutes ago we got shot at. Forty minutes ago Damien could have paid that man for delicious looking burgers and hotdogs. I couldn’t hear my own thoughts past my stomach’s desperate screams for food. I really don’t do well without a snack once in a while. I’m like a horse or a hamster, I need small amounts often. I don’t do well with large meals. I’m not like a reptile.

“I can’t believe you didn’t check your pockets!” I grip the wheel, trying real hard to keep my voice from sounding too harsh.

“You’re still thinking about that? That was forty miles ago!” Damien sounds honestly astonished.

“Yea, well, I’m hungry! Aren’t you?”

Damien says nothing for several road markers, but I can clearly hear the gurgling acid in his stomach.

“Yea, well, maybe I was scared.”

“Scared of that guy? … pfffah!” I scoff and push down the accelerator. The car speeds up as we fly past a sign for the next exit.

“I mean you could’ve just looked! Why didn’t you just look?” I ask, flabbergasted. I don’t understand this darn ginger.

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to.”

I slow down to glance at him. Is he being serious?

“Why wouldn’t you want to? Did you prefer to look at all the other food stands in the area first?”

“Humpf.” Damien says. “I don’t like your tone, or attitude. You should calm down.”

“Calm down? I am calm. I’m just asking you a question. A reasonable question!”

“And I told you. Maybe I didn’t want to look!”

“Maybe? What’s with this cryptic crap? Why can’t you just answer the dang question?”

Damien is quiet again. He looks like an insolent child. His lips are pursed and his arms are crossed over his chest. Damn him. He can sense my frustration. I think he likes it. He likes provoking me. Maybe that’s what this is all about.

“Besides, I didn’t even know if the food was kosher!”

“Kosher? What are you Jewish now?”

“No, but it could be contaminated, who knows. What kind of maniac sets up a food stand in the middle of nowhere anyway?”

“Who cares? It smelled good and we were hungry and it was there!”

“Jeez, that was nearly an hour ago! You really can’t let anything go can you?”

I narrow my eyes and focus on the sign for the next exit. Five more miles.

“It’s not about that. It’s about something else. It’s about you and me and us not communicating effectively. It’s frustrating. You always do this, you always sabotage things whenever something goes against what you think is ‘normal’. You’re so afraid of sticking out, of looking different, of being yourself! So much so that even I can’t be myself around you anymore. It was a perfectly fine meal and a perfectly fine food stand. You just didn’t like it because it didn’t fit into your narrow sense of reality. Like it shook something loose inside of you…”

“Yea, well and you always have to be different. You always look for something out of the ordinary. Why can’t you just be NORMAL?”

There it was. Damien had finally said it. I knew he was going to say it, too.

“Normal? Are you serious? What are you a mind-fascist?”

“What did you just call me? A fascist? Wow, you are crazy! I don’t agree with you and you call me a fascist! You know there is really something wrong with you. You should go see someone about that. Maybe you need to be on medication!”

I glare at him out of narrowed eyes. A large oak tree that looks like it has been standing there since the days of Noah is coming up to our right. If I swerve just an few inches off the road I might be able to wrap the car around it just so that I will be a goner and Damien walks away with the shock of his life.

“You just don’t get it, do you? You just don’t understand a thing I’m saying. I might as well be speaking Venusian and you Martian, it be the same difference. It’s just not connecting. I don’t care about having different opinions. What I do care about is being respected in my being an individual and having a unique perspective and desiring a life that’s not just a carbon copy of someone else’s. What is the fun in that? Why does everybody want to be like everyone else? Why live at all if you’re just going to copy someone else?”

“And what makes you so special? You always think you’re better than everyone else! You’re so arrogant!”

That oak tree is looking better by the minute. Perhaps I won’t swerve that far, perhaps I will just hit the car straight on and kill us both. I grip the wheel real hard. I can sense Damien moving around in his seat like a child.

“You know you sometimes act like a spiritual infant. I have to cut every slightly abstract concept into tiny pieces and spoon feed you every morsel of wisdom and still you spit it out in my face because the flavor of truth makes your toothless ego puke!”

“I’m an infant? Wow, you really ARE arrogant! You act so high and mighty. Why do you think you know everything huh?”

That oak is coming awfully close now. It’s decision time. It’s either death or take the exit. I glare over at Damien. He looks scared. His eyes are big and bright, like a child that doesn’t quite know what it’s doing. And perhaps he really doesn’t, which makes it all the more depressing… I can’t do it anyway. That would mean defeat. And I won’t go down without a good fight. I won’t let them win. I won’t let the world bully me into submission and lose this ridiculous fight. I just refuse. Not today, not ever. I won’t give him the chance to get one over on me.

I slow down and merge into the exit lane. There is a nice American diner coming up on our right. I pull into the driveway and take a few breaths as I kill the engine and watch Damien peel himself out of his seat. He has no idea…

He gets out and then looks back inside.

“Besides, we have no idea how much that guy was actually charging for those un-permitted hamburgers!”

I roll my eyes to the heavens, say a silent prayer, and watch him saunter through the door of the diner. It’s pointless; I realize, sigh and get out following the darned ginger.