2,740 Miles to Heartache

6 girls hit the road to learn more about life, themselves and each other.

 

It was 2:00 am when we pulled into the turnpike rest stop for the night. Our plan had been to drive right through to the next city, but the lack of caffeine and cigarettes forced us to stop. I stepped out of our ragged ‘75 VW bus to light up my last fix, hoping to inhale some sort of sanity back into my body.

      “I hope you burn a hole in your lungs, ya dumb b***h!” my more health conscious companion ridiculed as she walked past me.

      “Don’t criticize my happiness Tracy, when you can’t put a finger on your own.” I fired back rather proud of myself; I was never quick enough when it came to come backs. Tracy just walked away with her back to me as if she didn’t hear a thing. That was always like her, saying the cleverest thing she came up with then walking away, avoiding confrontation.

      The others piled out of the van and made a mad dash for the bathroom. All together there were six of us; the funny thing was we started the trip with only four. One tree-hugger lost in the sixties, one over zealous painter, one guitarist who only wrote two full songs in her entire lifetime and me the writer. We were later joined by the beach bum from Phoenix and a health nut from San Fran - I know what you’re thinking, a beach bum from a land locked state; well it still doesn’t make much sense to me so I can’t really help you with that.

      The rest stop seemed typical and had every amenity a traveler could need: pizza, corn dogs and coffee - either burnt or stale – and a vending machine full of artery clogging snack food, only 75 cents a piece. The one thing that was different was a small convenience store that sold cases of energy drinks, cigarettes, magazines, maps and numerous souvenirs for the modern traveler. All were squeezed into a small building that amazingly still had room for two, sixteen stall bathrooms, marked by stick figure representations of gender.    

      “Lane!” I looked up in time to see a pack of cigarettes come flying at my face. “You like P-lights right?” 

      “Yeah, thanks Page” I responded in time barely catching the box, “Hey there’s two packs here, do I owe you extra?”

      “No they were buy-one get-one.” She yelled climbing back into the bus. I watched as cases of Monster and Red Bull were loaded into the back, along with various food items. Everyone seemed to be claiming sleeping areas when I finally climbed back into the van for the night. Melissa had her guitar out playing something that sounded new which actually turned out to be her second song with a different introduction.

      “When are you going to write anything new?” Jane asked. This being the question that had been on all of are minds.

        “I’ll write something new when you take the paints out of your bag and create something. All you do is talk about how great you are but I haven’t seen one masterpiece yet.” Melissa shot back. Everyone just sat there stunned no one had ever heard Melissa say anything like that to anyone. She was always so passive.

The van was quiet for a while, no one saying anything in fear of causing another rest stop brawl. Every time we would stop to sleep, someone would end up dragging someone else out of the bus by the hair, pummeling them into the pavement. It’s just what happens when you get six girls in tight living quarters. The air had gotten thick and heavy with sweat but no one said anything. It took Jane half collapsing before anyone swallowed their pride and opened the doors. I grabbed a bottle of water and started to pour it on the canvas-white painter’s face.

“Jane you’re gonna to be ok. I need you to drink this for me.” I said holding her head up so she could drink the water. The tension in the air had faded and everyone started settling in for the night. I laughed to myself as I watched everyone take their usual positions, Page next to Melissa, Tracy and her beach bum, and me with Jane. I stayed up with her for a little while talking about the past.

“Do you think you’ll ever love again?” She asked staring out the back window.

 “Hell, I dono. I just don’t know anymore.”

 

*   *   *

 

The next morning we all woke up, cramped and cold, forgetting how the desert becomes an artic tundra at night. It was 6 am when I emerged from our tin can; the sun was just peeking its head over the horizon. Its golden glow made the flame from my lighter invisible. Looking at the old bus in the rising sun reminded me of how she looked when my dad first bought her outside a head shop downtown. It took three detailing sessions to get the reefer smell out of the seats. The outside was surprisingly well kept; the two-tone green and yellow paint job was littered with graffiti. It told a story of kids trying to find themselves in a changing world.

The sun light hid the rust spots that developed when she was left for dead in our back yard. I was surprised that my dad could get her running again in time for my 16^th birthday. He gave up on her two years after he bought her. It was one of those mid life crisis buys. I remember him and my mom talking about reliving their college days, traveling all over the country. That idea was short lived, they remembered they had kids.

      Page crawled out of the back of the bus behind me. “Hey you got a light?”

      “Yeah, somewhere,” I searched my pockets for my lighter. I could have sworn I put it back in my pocket.

      “Got it!” Page said taking the lighter off the tire. “You know, you should stop leaving your lighter on the tires cause one of these days you’re gonna forget about it.”

      “I know it’s just habit, something I picked up from Jane.” I took the Zippo™ from Page and put it in my pocket.

      “I didn’t know Jane smoked?”

      “Yeah, she used to when she was with me.”  

      “So what made her quit?” Page flicked the last ashes from her cigarette and put it out on the bottom of her shoe, leaving a scar to match the others made by smoldering cherries.

      “You say it like quitting’s a bad thing.”

      “I just dono how people do it, the whole quitting thing.” Page looked at me then at her shoes. Ever since Page was a little girl her grandmother made her promise to never start smoking. She has long since broken that promise and on the day of her grandmother’s funeral Page smoked a pack and a half.

      “You guys gonna poison yourself all day or can we hit the road?” Tracey yelled out the driver’s side window. Page and I just rolled our eyes and headed back to the bus.

      “How much longer ‘till we get to Portland?” Melissa asked still brushing her hair.

      “I donno, about 2 hours maybe less why you got some where to be?” We all started laughing. “Just enjoy the ride you’ll probably end up falling asleep anyway.” Melissa was known for sleeping right through to the next city regardless of how much sleep she got the night before.

 

*   *   *

 

      The desert seemed to be ending about an hour into the drive. Trees began to appear against the horizon like buildings do when you get closer to a big city. As the landscape began to change around us so did the mood in the bus. Melissa had fallen asleep like usual and Page lit up in the back forcing Tracy to change places with Jane, who was sitting up front with me. So now I was sitting next to the one person I couldn’t stand and for some reason it felt alright.

      “So everyone seems to have one distinct thing about them that sets them apart from everyone, except you.” Tracy was staring right at me when she said this. I began to feel uncomfortable, cursing Page for lighting up in the bus and causing the shift of bodies placing Tracy practically in my lap.

      “I’m a writer,” I said sheepishly keeping my eyes on the road.

      “Really?” Tracy’s stare was burning a hole in my head.

      “Yeah I guess that sets me apart from everyone. Was that what you were looking for?”

      “Yeah I guess it will do. How come I never see you write anything? You never have a note book out.”

      “It’s kinda hard to write and drive at the same time.” The bus was a stick shift and I was the only one that knew how to drive one, making me the designated chauffer.

      “True, but you’re not behind the wheel when we stop.” I was dreading that statement.

      “I don’t like to write in front of people. Everyone wants to know what I’m writing about or if they can read it, so I just write when everyone is asleep.”

      “How mysterious.” I wasn’t expecting that response. Was she flirting with me? No, that’s impossible she hated me.

      “Not really I just like my privacy.” I respond quickly trying to shake this crazy feeling from my heart. She is beautiful but I always swore I wouldn’t fall for anyone like her. How could a ten minute conversation erase my dislike for this creature?

      “Lane! I have to pee.” Jane temporarily shook me form my inner dilemma.

      “Jane I don’t see any sign of a truck stop on this road. Can you hold it?”

      “No, I really have to go! Just pullover and nobody look.”

      “Oh come on Jane we’ve all seen you pee when you went in that alleyway in San Fran.” Page laughed causing Jane to turn bright red. The whole bus exploded in laughter as I pulled over, barely coming to a stop when Jane jumped out of the van and ran to the only patch of bushes in sight.

      “Just leave her,” Tracy said. Her voice pulled me back to the inner conflict that had been brewing during the distraction.

      “Lane would never leave her behind,” Page said looking at me with this devilish smile.

      “Why is that?” Tracy asked.

      “Cause they used to f**k that’s why.”

      “Page!” I yelled throwing my empty Monster can at her head.

      “Oh really?” Tracy’s stare began to widen the hole in my head.

      “So we dated no big deal ok.” I said praying Jane was almost done so we could be on our way.

      “No big deal? That’s a load of crap you were together for three years.” Page fired back trying to get a rise out of me.

      “Hey Jane’s coming back can we just drop it.” I pleaded. The bus was quiet as Jane entered.

      “Everything ok in here?” She asked looking around.

      “Yeah everything’s fine.” I said turning the key. The roar of the engine woke Melissa from her nap.

      “What’d I miss?” No one said anything and I pulled back on the highway.

 

*   *   *

 

      The awkward silence hung in the air for the rest of the way to Portland and was only broken when we could see the city a few miles out.

      “Looks a lot like San Fran.” Melissa said sticking her head out the window so she could get a better look.

      “No it doesn’t.” Tracy gives her an evil stare. “There is no bay, Golden Gate Bridge, Hills I could go on you know.” Melissa sat back in her corner looking rather ashamed.

      “Don’t worry about her Mel, Portland looks more beautiful than San Fran did.” Page said attempting to make Melissa feel better.

      “You can’t baby her.” Tracy yelled. Before we knew it Page had pulled Tracy into the back by the hair. “Ow, stop it you crazy b***h!”

      “You need to learn that you aren’t always right and that you have to start treating people better.” Page snarled slamming Tracy into the window.

      “Guys knock it off I’m trying to drive here.” I yell as they knock the back of my seat. Mostly I was worried about Tracy; Page was known to cause some real damage. I remember this one time back in high school Page got into this huge fight with her girlfriend. She caught her cheating with this skanky freshman. She beat them both so hard that they went to the hospital and the Houston police came and arrested her on assault with a deadly weapon charge. The deadly weapon ended up being her lit cigarette.

      Jane pulled Page off of Tracy, “are you nuts Page? At least wait until we stopped or something.” Everyone started laughing except Tracy and me. She crawled back into the front seat I could see that her lip was busted open. She was holding the blood back with her sleeve.

      “Do you need a tissue?” I asked trying to make sure she was okay.

      “No I’ll be fine.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and asked again.

      “Are you sure you don’t need one?”

      “Yeah I guess I do.” I opened the glove box for her and pointed to where they were.

      “Thanks.” She said quietly patting her lip. We exchanged a quick glance before I turned back to the road.

 

*   *   *

 

      We were on Main Street before I found a place for us to park.

      “We won’t be staying here all day.” I noted before leaving the bus.

      “Why not?” Everyone said in unison.

      “Cause we lost sometime back in California at that truck stop.”

      “So when will we be leaving?” Melissa asked

      “Around 4:00 pm is that okay with everyone?”

      “Yeah sounds good” I heard and variations of it.

      Naturally we all wanted to do different things so like in every other city we split up. I was actually really happy with how things ended up because it gave me some one on one time with Tracy. Page and Jane took their skateboard to Burnside Skate Park under the Burnside Bridge, and Melissa and Tracy’s beach bum went to check out the bars they were both in need of a drink after what happened in the bus. Tracy and I just walked around downtown Portland taking it all in. The city was as eccentric as the people that live there. It was an artists’ paradise.

      “So where do you want to go first?” Tracy asked staring at her guide book.

      “I dono, I’d really just like to walk around a little you know try to blend in.” Tracy put the book back in her bag.

      “I take it you don’t like tourists.”

      “Not really.” We round the corner and head to what appears to be the theater district.

      “Wow, I didn’t think this place could get any weirder.” Tracy pointed at a sculpture.

      “I wouldn’t call it weird just different.”

      “Well it’s different alright. I just hope Seattle isn’t like this.” I was surprised by Tracy’s comment.

      “Why do you say that?” Tracy didn’t say anything for a minute.

      “I just don’t think I could take two crazy cities back to back.” She sounded as if she wasn’t telling me something but, I didn’t think anything of it after all I was still trying to figure her out.

      “Tracy?” I said, “Can I ask you something?”

      “Yeah, what’s up?”

      “Why are you such a b***h all the time?” She stared at me blankly like she couldn’t believe I had just asked her that.

      “Well isn’t that a loaded question.”

      “Sorry you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. It’s just that I don’t think you are that kind of person.” She gave me this half smile and turned away.

      “I guess it’s because of where I grew up.” I thought this was a rather text book statement but once again I let it go. I should have paid more attention to our conversation because I would regret it later.

      “I am starving.” Tracy said clutching her stomach.

      “I think there is an Italian place up here; you see the red, white and green sign?” I pointed to the storefront two blocks ahead.

      “Yeah, sounds good I could eat anything right now.”

 

*   *   *

     

      “This place seems nice.” We took our seats at a small booth over looking the street. I gazed at the menu but only to give Tracy time to think of what she wanted. I had already decided on raviolis. While she skimmed the pages I kept a close watch on her trying to figure out if she felt the same way I did about her.

      “Ooo this sounds yummy.” She finally said peering over the top of the colorful paper. “Roasted chicken with rosemary in a lemon garlic sauce.”

      “Wow that makes mine sound boring, I going with the cheese ravioli.” We both laughed as we ate and talked about the trip so far. While we waited for our desert I decided to be bold and put my hand on hers. To my surprise she didn’t flinch or give me a weird look.

      “I was wondering how long it was going to take you.” She said leaning in.

      “So you knew.”

      “How could I not you are obvious you know.” I turned away my face went from white to crimson.

      “Oh I made you blush.” Tracy laughed.

      “Is that clock right?”

      “Yeah why?”

      “S**t we are going to be late we have five minutes to get back to the bus!” I panicked flagging down our waiter to get the check.

 

*   *   *

 

      “Well look who’s late.” Page was standing against the bus finishing off her butt.

      “Sorry we stopped to get food.” I said hopping into the car.

      “You got food!” Jane looked pissed. “We didn’t eat.”

      “Oh don’t lie Jane, you met up with us at that crazy disco bar and had cheese sticks.” Melissa ratted her out. Jane sat back in her seat and opened a box of fruit roll-ups. We headed back out on the road hoping to get to Seattle by morning at the latest.

      That night was quiet most everyone was sleeping by ten, which was rather unusual. Most of the time Page would be causing some sort of trouble, whether it was teasing Melissa while she was trying to sleep or losing arm wrestling matches with Jane and the Beach Bum. However tonight was peaceful. Tracy sat up front with me falling asleep on my shoulder; Melissa was sound asleep with no interruptions. Page was listening to some crappy band from back home and Jane was playing Gin with Beach Bum. As for me I just chugged down one Monster at a time ignoring the maximum three a day warning on the side of the can. We had to make it to Seattle by morning or we would never get to Vancouver in time for the open house.

      It was just past 4:00 am when I pulled into the first gas station in Seattle. The roar of the dying engine didn’t wake anyone and I was able to get some sleep before we set out in a few hours. That was the last time I right for the rest of the trip.

 

*   *   *

 

      I woke up to find Tracy was gone. I looked in the back and counted only three bodies Melissa, Page and Jane. At that moment I knew she was gone. Why didn’t I pay attention yesterday? Things seemed too good to be true. It was during my freak out I spotted a piece of paper on the dash.

 

Lane, Sam and I have left don’t bother following us. We have been planning this for some time. Thanks for the ride and the dinner yesterday.

                                    Tracy

 

P.S. To answer your question, I am a b***h because I love toying with people’s hearts. It makes for great stories at the salons. I wouldn’t want to sound boring now would I.

 

      Tears ran down my cheeks, I couldn’t believe what just happened. I wanted to scream but for some reason I didn’t. I just started the bus and pulled out of the parking lot. Seattle would have to wait I wasn’t going to risk running into Tracy. With everyone still asleep I drove off towards Vancouver.

Reviews

[D1218]

Aw :(
Great story :D
Keep writing

[Imani]

LOVED IT