A Quiet Piece of Longing – Ten

The day before was a haze. I drank a lot at a bar, then I went home with a fine lady. She was now in my bed and I was smoking a cigarette on the hotel balcony. The problem was, I couldn’t remember her at all. Where we had met. What had lead up to the sex. I couldn’t remember anything. She was pretty, though.

I slipped out and got in my car. I drove out of California and into Nevada. Now I was just driving down a blank spot of road. Canyons laid out before me and I imagined hiking through them. The land was desolate.

I was doing acid regularly. I ripped a single tab off the sheet and put it on my tongue. Minutes passed, and then I started seeing faces in the lines of the road. Colors were much more vibrant and right. They had the sense of being alive. The road in front of me breathed and fluctuated. Everything around me was alive.

And then, my phone rang. “Hello?” I said. “Who’s this?”

“ISAIAH!” A shrill voice spoke. And I immediately knew it who it was. It was Cassandra. “I can’t believe it’s you! Where are you?”

“Driving through Nevada right now. I’m on an endless road trip.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Come to think of it, I really should’ve changed my number. “Why do I have to say that?”

“You just left one day. I thought you died. Can’t you just tell me?”

“Cass, what was between us is over. Why’re you calling me?”

“Because, all this time, I’ve just wanted to know where you’ve been.”

“I’ve been traveling. I’ve been to Montana, Pennsylvania, Texas, Florida. I’ve been all over. And I’m not coming home.”

“Well, can we keep talking?”

I face palmed. “Sure. Why not?”

“How are you doing?”

“Alright. I’m just fine. You?”

“I’ve been… okay. It’s been lonely without you.”

A year-and-a-half and she still couldn’t get over me. “Yeah, it’s been real lonely without you too.”

Just as the words came out of my mouth, my car hit a pothole and began spinning. I landed in a ditch and bounced forward.

“Isaiah? Are you okay?”

“…Yeah, I’m fine. But I really need to let you go now. Okay? Call me later.”

“Okay. Stay safe.”

“Sure.” I hung up.

I climbed out with my neck twisted and examined the damage to the car. It seemed fine. It looked like I could drive again. But it wouldn’t start. My car, the thing that had carried me for two years, was toast. I cursed at the clouds.

I grabbed all of my money, food, supplies, and packed them into a bag. There was no choice left but to try hitch hiking. Many cars passed me and none stopped, even when I tried to flag them down. The sun was setting and I figured hiking back to the car and sleeping in it was the next option. All until a red Ford stopped and grabbed me.

The driver was a spanish man. “You need help?” He asked.

“My car broke down.” I said. “I’m just looking for a place to go.”

“You looking?” He said.

“For what?”

“I said, you looking?”
“Uh, for sure.”

“Then hop in! I’ll take you!”

I didn’t know what he meant, but it couldn’t have been too bad. So I just climbed in and we took off on the road. Never spoke too much. There was a little bit of a language barrier. He suddenly reached into his bag and tossed my a blunt. I grabbed it.

“You want any?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Holy shit. Thanks!”

I then passed him a tab of acid. “LSD?” He asked.

I nodded. “Sure is.”

 

* * *

We pulled over to the side of the road at twilight. We were somewhere in East Texas on a highway back road. I was coming off the acid and smoking a cigarette. The night laid out before us. The truck was low on gas. And I was low on food and water. I was tired.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He gave a faint smile. Then tilted his tattered hat down. “Florida.”

“For what?”
“Work. Because I asked you.”

“Well alright, what kind of work? I can get a new car.”

“Construction. Only for a few weeks.”

“But why Florida? That’s so far away. Where are you even from?”

He had fallen asleep. I tossed my cigarette out the window and rested my head against the glass. We had traveled for a full day and I was tired. I fell asleep and woke up in the early afternoon. I yawned and stretched my arms out. Through the window, I could see that we were traveling through grassy fields and lakes. Fields of poppies stretched out across the horizon.

“Where the hell are we?” I asked.

“Louisiana. We reach Florida in a day. Wanna stop for food?”
“Food sounds amazing.”

Up ahead, there was a gas station that served subway sandwiches. I watched him eat an entire sub in ten bites. Meanwhile, I was still picking. Either way, the food was great and warmed my belly. It was a welcome treat. “Where are you from?” I asked.

“Tijuana.”

“And what’s that like?”

“There’s crime but nice place.”

“Does your family live there?”

He put his food down and shook his head. “Can’t see them. Don’t even want too.”

“What? Why not?”

He pointed to my can of beer. “Alcohol ruined it. Whatever you do, never slap a woman. Watch yourself.”

He stood up and I followed him to the car. I had no idea what had gone down between him and his family, but there was a reason he was traveling. The more I talked to to him, the more I learned about his life. He traveled between states, doing construction work. Making just enough to travel to the next city. And I was lucky enough to join in.

Within a day, we reached Florida. We stopped at a motel for the night and I watched the television until I passed out. In the morning, we started the construction work. To this day, the hardest I had ever worked, but I made twenty an hour.

The job was building an animal shelter. On our lunch break, we’d gather by the rubble and mess, drinking beer and eating. “Hey, what went down between you and your family?” I asked.

He shook the question off and said, “Eh, you don’t wanna know.”

“Well, I’m in a similar spot.”

“You are?”

“I didn’t ruin things with my family. It was always like that. I guess one day I just had enough of my life and decided to leave.”

“I did.”

“So it was you?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And I’m guessing there was alcohol involved.”
He then broke into a fit of English I was not expecting. Perhaps he knew more than he let on. “I don’t drink anymore, but I am an alcoholic. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.” He smiled. “She’s my mistress.”

“Weed and acid are my mistresses. We have fun together!”

“Where’s your home?” He asked me. A question I was not expecting.

“Well, it’s LA. But home was never home for me. Lots of fights, arguments, and lots of time to dissociate.”

Our lunch break was up and we got back to work. I was up on the roof placing tile and it was slippery. By the end of the day, I was soaked in sweat. When we got back to the motel I just collapsed right on the bed.

The animal shelter was half finished and the day was over. The week would continue on like this. A full twelve hours of physical work in the sun. And then weed and drinks back at the motel to recover. We lived off gas station food and weed. That was our source of fuel.

On one day, we sat together at lunch and I asked the question, “You ever think about going back to your family? Sometimes… I do.”

He shook his head. “All the time. I miss my kids. But that life is old and doesn’t fit anymore.”

“But why doesn’t it fit? That’s what I ask myself.”

“I, uh, I ruined things.”

“Seriously?”

“I got too drunk one night. The next, I was waking up in jail. Spent a year in there.”

“Jesus, man. You’re like me. And now you just travel, huh?”
He nodded. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Is it the motion that helps us? Is it the air? Because, traveling’s like an antidote.”

“You’re wrong.” He said. “Traveling’s an escape. But everything catches up to you eventually. Where do you go when you’re running from yourself?”
“What about starting a new life? Somewhere completely different with completely different people?”
He laughed and said, “You’re wrong.”

“How am I wrong? Doesn’t that change things?”

“I’m older than you, so I know this. No matter where you go, what you do, you still bring yourself because you are yourself. Eventually, the same things happen.”

“So if you can’t stop fucking up, is it just better to be alone?”

“It’s better than fucking up who you love. Me? I’m poison. I’m a bad guy.”

“Same here. I can take but I cannot give.”

Once again, our lunch break was over. The roof had been tiled so now we were spraying a coating onto it. That took a few hours and we were done by sunset. We left and I was busy rolling a joint at the motel.

Suddenly, my friend had got a phone call. From the look of his eyes, it was urgent. And he emerged from the bathroom crying.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“My wife. She’s sick and in the hospital. I was still her emergency contact.”

“Then you have to go back.”

More tears fell. “No! I can’t! I can’t go back! I ruined it all!”

I stood up to my feet. “But don’t you want a chance to apologize to her? She might pass.”

He sat down on his bed and began sobbing. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll have to take on my children again.”

“Listen, man, your children need a father. Your wife needs an apology. I don’t know what happened between you two, but you need to go. I can come with, if you want.”

“No. It’s useless. Don’t even try. I can’t go back.”

“I don’t even know your name. But I know, that deep down, you’re a good guy. If your wife passed without an apology from you, if your kids never got to see you again, don’t you think that’d just be a waste? I know how much you can love your children. I was about to have one. Stop your moaning, and fucking go see them.”

He wiped the tears and sat forward. “Alright. We’ll go tomorrow.”

The night passed and we headed out of town. “What are you gonna say to them? Your family?”

“I’m gonna apologize for all the hell I caused them.”

“That’ll definitely help. I wish I could do that.”

“We’re two sides of the same coin, you know. You’re good at giving advice, but you don’t follow your own.”

“Don’t worry about that.” I said. “I’m never returning home.”

Lots of long talks later and weed smoked, he dropped me off in Texas. I hoped that he would reconcile with his family, and that everything would be okay for him. Whatever happened in the past didn’t matter. He was a good man who had made mistakes. And hell, I never even learned his name.