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lostandfound00 · 6 years

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On the Road Again

Noah Tuomi

Morning Coffee

“A foraging wild creature, intent above all upon survival, is as strong as the grass.”

- Richard Adams, Watership Down

Daniel stirred in his car at a trailhead in Colorado. The sun had risen just enough to send a thin beam of light through his window, but remained too shy to peak out from behind the snowcapped mountains. It was breezy, and the leaves of the surrounding trees shushed him into waking. He shifted as he woke and felt his shirt sticking to his back. His sleeping bag was yet again soaked with sweat caused by the dreams that swam among his disjointed periods of sleep. Only slightly uncomfortable, he lay there for a while staring up at the roof until a bird that he couldn’t name began to sing him a gentle song of encouragement that compelled him to throw his wet sleeping bag off his body and rub his eyes. The morning birds may have been the only reason he got up in the mornings, aside from maybe the calling of his unhealthy coffee addiction.

He rolled over, popped the trunk of his Jeep Cherokee, and climbed out before setting some water to boil on his small camping stove. Hobbes, his furry, 90-pound companion jumped out and sniffed the ground, frantically following the scent of some small animal before circling and urinating on a nearby spruce. He started the car and slid Nick Drake’s Pink Moon album into the CD player and hit play, allowing his mellow voice to weave its way through the surrounding trees as he brewed his coffee. He sat on the back bumper and drank the first cup of many and waited for the sun to fully reveal itself.

The dreams had been worse that night. They were always painful, but they had been stronger. More tangible. The dreams healed and haunted him every time he closed his eyes. He didn’t know whether to dread or welcome them, but either way they were consistent in visiting him every night.

He would relive the time, not so long ago, when he and five friends piled into a car and drove across the country, soon after graduating high school. He remembered the games of road trip bingo and eye spy that they had played along the way and the dancing around the campfire during the nights they spent at campsites. The dreams would often include the period of exhaustion they all had felt that led Sarah to fall asleep with her head on his shoulder. Then would follow the eight sleepless hours he spent not moving so he wouldn’t wake her. He would experience again the morning when her eyes opened gingerly with the newly risen sun and the feeling of her lips pressed against his. He would feel the chill of the night air as they lay together during each clear night, stargazing until they fell asleep together on the roof of the car. These were the dreams that Daniel had to look forward to. But they were always short lived.

Deep in the night he relived the same event. The deer standing frozen in the road, illuminated by the headlights of his car and the feeling of his hands jerking the steering wheel to the side to avoid it. The all too familiar crunching of metal as the car rolled sideways off the road and into the trees.

He gave Hobbes a bowl of kibble and spoiled him with pieces of beef jerky he had mixed in. He drank his coffee cross legged and wiped the sweat from his brow. When Hobbes was finished eating he curled up next to him in the back of the car and placed his chin on his leg.

They sat in the back listening to the music for an hour or so. He didn’t make breakfast, for there was a diner just up the road and he planned on making his way there for a real meal. He had been eating granola bars, oatmeal, and ramen for days now and he was looking forward to a small sliver of variety. Not that he was complaining, though. He chose this. He wondered why sometimes, but then he remembered how much worse the world was back at his apartment. He hadn’t moved any of her things from the one bedroom in case she came back, which he realized was crazy, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch anything. He had left without a second thought, leaving most of his belongings and all of hers. He didn’t think twice before packing up his Jeep and leaving everything behind. He had left a note on the counter top, one for his parent and the other for Sarah. He guessed that was why they kept calling him. Finding a letter from your son to his dead wife probably wasn’t very reassuring.

Three cups of coffee later, he packed up the car and set out. Hobbes sat comfortably on a blanket in the passenger seat and chewed on a bone. It was a beat-up car with a few dents here and there along the sides, some peeling paint, and untreated rusty areas across the lower rims, but the wheels turned. He didn’t need any more than that. A dream catcher and a photo of Sarah dangled from the rear-view mirror, swaying with the contour of the road. His phone was charging from the port beneath the radio and was vacant of any new calls or messages, but that could merely be from the lack of service up in the mountains. It was either that or his family had finally refrained from their fruitless attempts to bring him home. He figured they were worried he was going to kill himself or something. Frankly, he hadn’t completely removed the idea from his head yet.

The car’s clock was eight minutes slow and the thermostat was stuck flickering between 45 and 46 degrees. His phone told him it was 58. The back seat was piled with blankets, ropes, lanterns, an assortment of tools, backpacks, and a million other means of survival for the avid camper. It was filled to the top, but had an opening where he could just barely see out the back window.

The sun hung high in the sky, far above the mountainous horizon by the time he had made it to the diner. Apparently it had been further away than he had thought and it took him well over an hour to get there. He parked in the surprisingly busy lot and cracked a window for the dog. It was relatively warm out so he felt safe leaving him in the car for a short while.

He ordered two eggs; over medium, hash browns, and a big stack of french toast along with more coffee. The waitress who served him was attractive, maybe only a few years older than he was. Though the essence of her beauty was there, her face was worn with lines beside her eyes and along her mouth, no doubt from the long days of work she had endured over the course of her life.

The meal was the best thing Daniel had eaten in a long time and it filled him to the brink of bursting, making it worth the ten bucks and sizeable tip. He ate quickly so he didn’t leave Hobbes in the car for too long. On the way out an incoming customer stopped him at the door. He was a big, burly man with a thick brown beard, the kind that was hard to resist stroking gruffly when in thought. He wore a heavy red flannel over a hooded sweatshirt and a black beanie along with dark and obviously experienced Timberland boots. He must have been at least six foot three and looked like what Daniel imagined Paul Bunyan resembled.

“That your dog in the Jeep over there?” he asked, gesturing to Daniel’s car.

“Uh, yeah it is” he replied, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“Oh, well he’s a friendly feller that one. Neat color on ‘em.” The large man smiled a genuine smile, dissipating the tension between them instantly.

“Oh!” Daniel chuckled. “Yes, he’s a great dog.”

“He got a name?”

“Hobbes.”

“Heh, Hobbes. Good name. I’ve got two of my own down at the house. Great for keeping company.”

The small talk lasted a short while, but it was more than just that for Daniel. He hadn’t given so much as a hello to someone not working at a restaurant or convenience store in nearly a week and he had gone much longer than that in the past.

He wasn’t the most social of people and rarely was the one to provoke a conversation. In high school he had his group of friends that he would spend time with on the weekends, but he never strayed outside their circle voluntarily. Occasionally he would be introduced to someone new and they would hang out for the day. The first time he met someone would usually be the last since most didn’t enjoy the patterns of awkward silences that occurred when conversing with him. Luckily he had found friends who could accept it and soon even grow accustomed to his quietness.

The two men ended on a laugh and Daniel told him to enjoy his breakfast and that the hash browns were top notch. They shook hands and he returned to his car where Hobbes was jumping up on the window with his tongue lolling uncontrollably out of the side of his mouth. The man’s name was Jessie. And Daniel didn’t see him again after that.

Change

“I read somewhere how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong… but to feel strong.”

-Jon Krakauer, Into The Wild

“Daniel, throw that rope over here. No not that one. Left a bit, yup that one. Just toss it over.”

Daniel tossed the rope over the tent to Luke who grabbed it and tied it to a nearby tree branch. It would be raining soon and they had just barely made it to the campsite in time. They had been rushing to get the tent up for almost five minutes before the drops began to fall. Quickly cramming all their belongings inside they climbed in before any of their gear could get too wet. They were only half shielded by the trees around them and had a cloud filled, yet still breathtaking view of the plains of Yellowstone National Park. Within minutes it was raining hard making hundreds of loud smacks on the taut tent with each passing second. It was loud, but still peaceful in a way. Some noises can be more peaceful than silence and rain is possibly the most. They ate a few granola bars and had a few beers before hunkering down and listening to the sounds of the oncoming storm.

Daniel woke to the sound of rain pattering on his windshield. He was smiling and felt comfortably warm and safe within the confines of his sleeping bag. Hobbes had snuggled up close to him and was snoring softly, his ribs rising and falling with each long breath. His phone read 1:24. He had been asleep for over 4 hours. Nearly a record for him. He knew he would fall asleep again shortly, for it wasn’t the falling part that was hard. It was staying asleep that was impossible, so he just lay there for a short while, the images of his dream still clear in his semi-conscious mind.

It was bliss. The moments after his dreams where his past felt much closer than it was. He would feel much further from it in the morning, or possibly just forget the dream entirely. He knew this from experience. He soon let himself slowly fall back to sleep.

She looked up at him for a long time. The branch lay in the grass next to the car, still dripping with her blood. She seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Daniel soon realized he was apologizing hysterically, but he couldn’t hear himself either. He tried to say he loved her, but nothing came out.

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