Time stored and bottled
Strong winds behind driven car
Terror memories
You close your eyes as the car heads down the highway. The music of 20 years ago sings doo-wop lulabyes. At least the car isn’t weaving this time. You lay on the long backseat of the red Buick. It won’t be long. He’ll get tired and we’ll stop for the night. Comfortable lies that bring no comfort.
“I can make that trip in 8 hours,6 if there ain’t no cops on the way.”
You love going to grandma’s especially now since Mom and Dad don’t live together anymore. Dad’s taken to drinking more beer than you remember. But you never counted them before. Mom always picked them up and put them away before when you went to bed. Now, she’s waiting at home. Well her home, yours too but so is Dad’s place; every other weekend. Luckily not every drive back is like this. The scent of stale beer wafts through the open back window.
“Hey kiddo! You hungry? Want a burger?”
“Yes sir!”
Shit I mean shoot. You were supposed to be sleeping. But the promise of a fast food burger was too much to pass up. Maybe addiction runs in the family. You lay on the backseat watching the shadows flee and return with the passing of each headlight going in the opposite direction. The bumbum, bumbum of the road, the heartbeat of the highway causes your eyelids to droop. Then you feel the slowdown and turn off the highway. Soon you sit on a hard plastic chair in a brightly lit garish colored restaurant. A hamburger, fries and vanilla shake sit on a red plastic tray in front of you.
“You know your mom and I. We’ve been separated a while now and uh …”
You sit chewing your burger, the pickles and ketchup a tangy compliment to the thin beef patty. You look at your father. He looks like he could use a drink. The thought briefly runs through your head to check the front seat to see if he has one there.
“Well we’re not getting back together and … Uh well … It’s not easy, not good for a man to be alone too long you know. Not in the, well - Do you remember Joyce?”
You look up blankly. Joyce? Who is Joyce?
“No, no of course you don’t. I never brought you, I mean, I never brought her around you. I wouldn’t do that sort of thing. I mean. What I’m saying son, is that I’ve met somebody other than your mom and she’s going to be moving in with me.”
You swallow.
“Does this mean I’m not going to be coming over anymore?”
“No. No, of course not. It just means she’ll be there with us instead.”
“Does she have kids?”
“Nope. Not that I know of.”
“You're gonna have to stop drinking when you drive me home.”
You freeze, your eyes dart down to study the table top. You didn’t mean to say that. You hope he doesn’t yell. It was an accident.
He chuckles.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. There gonna be some changes, that's for sure.”
And that’s when you learned your dad was bringing in another person to your home. That person would eventually become your step-mom. You’d realize a while later after that dinner, that your mom and your dad weren’t getting back together. And even later than that you’d piece together that the woman was the reason your mom and dad split up in the first place. But tonight, tonight you were just happy enough to fall asleep in the back seat of a red Buick with a full belly and a car that wasn’t weaving on the road.
The curves of the road
Paths of fate the journey lies
Realizations
This is for a dVerse prompt: Today, let us engage in some journeying of our own–through haibun! Write your own that references journeying as you understand it.
This was not an autobiographical write, my parents divorced when I was really young. And I never rode in the back of my dad’s car after he’d be drinking that I know of. It is a combination of a few people’s stories that I’ve heard. I think the journey we travel as kids is often one of moments that only as we look back we realize what they mean.
I hope you enjoy! 😊
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