Wednesday, September 26, 2012

WRI 2730 Essay #5 Travel/Place: A road-trip named Desire


A road-trip named Desire
(Excerpt)

It was about that time to switch pilots, 3:00 am.  I warn Jess about a certain gas station we should fill up at before we hit the long stretch of highway that separates El Paso and Mexico. The road is empty, no one is sharing it with us this night. 
A couple of hours have passed and I wake up to a nauseating sensation. My stomach rises to my throat and plops back down. This happens a couple of times before I am able to squint my eyes and try to regain focus on the highway ahead. 
Once the broke white lines are broken and not solid I notice something jet across the road in front of us. 

“What the heck was that?!,” I ask. 
“I can’t tell, but there are a few just sprinting across like Japanese kamikazes” Jess replies. 

I watch the shoulder lane and just catch glimpses of little sets of holographic marbles here and there. Then I see a rabbit head pop up from a patch of grass. The bunny takes off and runs, not hops, runs across the highway. They are everywhere! Jess swerves to miss one and almost hits another. I catch one hopping along side the car as we drive 35 mph, these suckers are fast. They are slender like a cat, and stand on their hind legs.
Jack rabbits.  
Jack #1 fakes a left, while Jack #2 sprints in front of the Jeep, Jess swerves to the right. Exasperated, Jess has enough so I offer to drive, the fun is over.  We are both exhausted, we have been on the road for 22 hours. 
I notice the tank, less than a quarter, I don't know how to tell her we passed the last gas station a long long time ago...
I'm lost in my thoughts, playing out all possibilities in case we do run out of gas. Suddenly there is an explosion under the car. The front of the car lifts lightly, and a slight burning stench comes from the AC vents. Jess slows to a stop with a look of terror on her face. 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? It smells like burning!” 
I imagine a ball of fur and blood entangled in the engine or radiator. That can’t be good but what choice do we have but to keep trucking on?

The Jack rabbits are now few and far between and we have spent the last several minutes looking for gas stations on the GPS. There’s a slight jerk in the car. Then a slight tug. Then slowly everything shuts down. It is not instant, it is gradual and peaceful. 

This is it. This is the moment we run out of gas and end up stranded on the side of a highway with crazy jack rabbits near by. Surrounding us is nothing but space, we can see miles out in every direction with mountains in the distance.
Mexico, I think.
It is 4 am.  We are an hour out of my dad’s house in El Paso and about a mile away from the nearest gas station that we aren’t convinced is open. Neither of us have AAA, so I call my dad and ask him to bring us enough gas to get to a gas station. It will take him an hour or so. 
We sit and wait, it’s starting to get cold. I pull clothes out of the suitcase to lay on ourselves to warm up. It is clear that conversation at this point would not make anything better, so we sit in silence. The only audible thing is Jess’ rumbling belly. 

“Gassy?” I ask. 
“No... poopy.” 
“I have napkins in the glove compartment,” I reply. 

I imagine a jack rabbit running up and startling Jess or a desert snake stinging her right on my ass.  

“Maybe if you hold on to the back bumper and angle your ass out, you could go and you wouldn’t get anything on you. But then you’d have to balance yourself with one hand and wipe with the other? Up for it?” 
“I guess so...”Jess replies hesitantly. 
“I’ll be your look out!” I yell as she makes her way to the rear of the car. 

I look out the passenger window to make sure I don’t see an animal charge the car.  About 4 minutes pass and I see Jess turn the corner from the back bumper. She opens the driver side door and climbs in. For a second I wonder what to say to break the ice, because our friendship was now on a whole new level. But I don’t have to say a word, when she shuts her door she looks over and we just burst out in laughter. Insane laughter, gasping for air. The whole day’s events just flood in and we laugh and laugh. Laughing just relaxes me enough to realize I have to poop too. Once the laughter dies down I ask,

“Okay, Jess, explain to me how you did it.” 
She replies, "Well, I kind of ‘leaned’ on the right side of the bumper, so you should take the left side.  Just reach underneath, make sure you get a good grip and pull your pants down. Spread your legs and lean out.  Balance is key.“  

I open the door and get hit with a sharp cool breeze. I reach the back of the car and try really hard not to look at the ground on the right side. I unbutton my pants and lower them. I squat and feel the cold Texas air on my derriere. 
This is not right. 
This is not natural! 
I close my eyes and say a little prayer that I don't end up some animal’s dinner or that I don’t make a terrible mess. I skillfully reach around, a little proud of myself for thinking of doing that in the first place. I take the walk of shame to the passenger door and climb in. It’s warm inside and this time we don’t laugh, we just slouch into our chairs and snuggle to my random pieces of clothing laid around us. 

6am, the sun is rising and I realize my dad should be there any minute. It’s been 24 hours without decent sleep. Just tiny naps here and there for each of us throughout the day. I see my dads car coming toward us on the highway. He slows as he approaches and slowly passes my car. He turns around and pulls up about 20 feet behind us. 
We are both speechless. What do we do? It is inevitable that he will walk to the car from behind and see our little prize pieces. Shit. Shit. Shit. 
He seems to be walking in slow motion, I swear I see a tumbleweed roll by. Once he reaches my door on the passenger side, I roll the window down and smile. 
“Hey, daddy.” 
“Hey, Baby.” 
I get out, Jess gets out of the driver’s side. We walk around to the back of the car. I stand straddling one pile, blocking my dad from seeing it as he walks to his car to get the gas tank.  He returns and starts to unlock the gas cap. Jess stands beside me and we are obnoxiously close to his work space. I know we are acting suspicious. He finishes pouring and tries to set the gas tank down exactly where I stood. The logical thing would have been to move over but I stood still like a statue.  He sets the tank on the ground beside me and turns the car on, it sputters for a second but turns on. I climb in behind the wheel, blare the heat on my frozen toes and wait for my dad to reach his car. The feeling of the car rumble under my feet restored my faith in this road-trip. Onto California!

My dad and I would wait a couple of years before talking about this morning. 

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