by Brad Cook
“I told you I’m not riding with anyone I don’t know,” Leroy whispered.
“We know him,” Ant said. “He is Chad! And he has a vehicle.”
“He just laughed at a man getting shocked. You wanna ride with him?”
“Chad is kind of a dunce, but he is not dangerous.”
“And what was that all about? ‘That is funny,’” he mocked. “No it wasn’t!”
“Of course it wasn’t. But do you think he would drive us anywhere if I sat there and told him how much of a dunce he is?”
“Keep it down,” Leroy whispered. “I wish you told him. I don’t care about the ride. I’d rather take my chances hopping the fence.”
“That is not very smart. Now listen, you need to make a choice—are you the captain, or are you not?” Ant paused, but not long enough for a response. “Because you keep wavering back and forth. Somebody needs to make decisions that allow us to move forward, and you seem disinclined to do so.”
“You think it’s smart to waste the money we have on this?”
“That is what the money is for, is it not? To help you reach Tampa? I find it hard to justify calling progress a waste.”
“Do we even have enough to make it to Florida?”
“Eighty dollars will buy about four tanks of gas, so probably not. But we should go as far as he is willing. We could be in the South by tomorrow!”
Leroy shook his head. Something deep inside him was telling him not to do it. This was his journey. He needed to be making the decisions. He’d let Ant take control for a while and look what it’d gotten him—two terrified shoppers and a night-time police escape.
“Whether or not I’m a leader, I am the captain. He can drive us to the next station, but after that, no more sketchy rides with strangers.”
“Are you kidding me? As much as I love it, freight hopping is about as sketchy as it gets. A car ride is a hundred times safer.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ma go with my gut on this one. That’s what the police on TV always say to do, and that’s what I’ma do.”
“What of your ankle? I cannot carry you the whole way.”
“You don’t have to. He’ll drive us. I can make it to the train on my own. Besides, my ankle’s feeling better already,” he said, putting weight on it and bouncing a bit, which he regretted instantly.
“I think you are making a huge mistake, I really do. You could turn a dozen smaller trips into a single big one and save time and effort.”
It sounded rational, efficient even, to Leroy, but he knew it was time to start making decisions for himself, and this was the first decision he’d made in which he felt truly certain. It wasn’t going to be the easy way, or the smartest way, but it was the way that felt right.
“I made my choice,” Leroy stated with confidence that surprised him.
Ant tisked, and shook his head. “It is a good thing you have no crew. Intentionally sailing uncharted waters is grounds for a mutiny.”
“Instead of telling me how bad I am at it, how about helping me?” He nearly shouted it. When he realized, he peeked around the trunk of the Oak tree and saw Chad look away quickly.
“What further help can I give than to streamline your progress?”
There was a sincerity in Ant’s gaze that shook Leroy, wavering his confidence. But he couldn’t let doubt take hold now. He was taking charge. With that in mind, he walked on his own, purposefully but painfully, back to Chad at the jungle. Ant snorted and followed at a distance.
“Can you drive us to a train station if we give you money?”
“For sure, brother, for sure. When?”
“Right now?”
“That works.” Chad sprang up from his seat, pointing. “Onward!”
Leroy met Ant’s gaze, and they stared into each other for a moment, then Ant faltered, and took a knee. Without saying a word, Leroy climbed up onto Ant’s back, and they trailed behind Chad.
“Do not get used to this,” Ant said.
“Too late.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, they emerged from the tree cover behind a laundromat. Decor from the hair salon that’d apparently occupied the building previously stuck out over the top of a dumpster. Leroy remained upon Ant’s back, though neither of them had spoken a word to each other since they’d left. Chad had spoken plenty for both of them, prying into their personal lives while imparting expansive chunks his own.
After rounding the front of the building, they set out along a country road surrounded by sweeping hills, blanketed by forests, and sparsely dotted with the occasional place of business.
“At that point my dad kicked me out,” Chad lamented. “My girl let me go, I had no home, no direction. I stayed with my sister for a while. It was the longest week of my life, brother. Then he asked me to move back in and we both cried and it was a whole thing, you know how it goes.”
“Uh-huh,” Ant said, as he’d done a hundred times on the short walk.
Chad’s stories only reinforced Leroy’s decision to part with him.
They reached the far end of the parking lot and Chad said, “Well, here she is.” Ant set Leroy down next to a beat up, squat little car with a fender-sized dent in the passenger door and a shattered window. Leroy peered in and noticed the radio had been ripped out.
“Uh, someone stole your radio.”
“Oh, yeah that happened a while ago.”
“Why did you not move the car?” Ant inquired, pulling tiny chips of glass from the empty window frame. “Anyone could have hot-wired it.”
“Can’t steal a car with no gas,” he responded with a grin, then pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, despite the passenger window being gone, and grabbed the steering wheel as he sat.
“Actually, it would be exceedingly simple,” Ant said, as he tossed both his and Leroy’s bag into the back seat. “The car could be lifted onto a flatbed, towed, or hell, simply rolled right out of the parking lot.”
“Speaking of rolling: I’ll steer, you guys push?”
“Wait, what?” Leroy said.
“You cannot make it to a gas station?” Ant asked.
“Brother, it’s so dry it won’t even start,” Chad laughed. “There’s a gas station less than a mile up the road, though. We can totally make it!”
“I can’t really push a car with a hurt ankle.”
“That is true. If anything, Leroy should steer the vehicle,” Ant said.
“That’s cool with me. Whatever you guys wanna do.” He hopped out.
“Hold up,” Leroy appealed. “I don’t know how to steer a car. I’ve never even sat in a driver’s seat! Maybe I should just try to push.”
“I will walk you through the process. It is not difficult,” Ant asserted.
“No really, I think—”
“The captain always steers the ship, Leroy,” Ant noted. “Get in.”
“Ooh, can I be first mate?” Chad asked.
Leroy stared at Ant until he understood there was no point in arguing, then plopped down onto the seat. “What do I do first?”
“First we need to make sure that the car will not start.” Ant looked at Chad, who was oblivious as usual, until he noticed the keys in his hand, then smiled and passed them to Leroy.
The dashboard lights flicked on when he turned the keys in the ignition, and the engine churned but it wouldn’t turn over. The noise it was making worried him, but he kept the key turned until Ant yelled at him to cut it out.
“Now what?” Leroy jeered.
Ant walked around to the front of the car and motioned for Chad to follow. “Leave the door open so you can hear me,” Ant said. “The first thing you need to learn is the brake and gas pedal configuration.”
“I’m confused already,” Leroy lied.
“The brake is on the left, and the gas is on the right. Use your right foot to control both of them, although since we are specifically lacking in gas, you will only need the brake. Try it before we start,” he urged.
> Leroy lazily dropped his foot onto the pedal and pushed it down, surprised by how much resistance he felt pushing back. He pumped it a few times to get a feel for it, and found it was a satisfying action.
“Depress the brake and hold it down as far as you can.”
“Now what?” he sneered, though he was genuinely interested.
“Squeeze the button on the gear selector, keeping the brake depressed, and then pull it back to align with the ’N.’” Ant looked to Chad and asked “Are you ready?” and got a vigorous nod in response. They each positioned their hands on a front quarter panel. “In three seconds, Leroy, slowly release the brake pedal.”
“This takes me back to Driver’s Ed.,” Chad announced.
Leroy waited, then did as he was told, and felt the car begin to roll backward. His hands shot up to grab the steering wheel instinctively.
“Turn the wheel all the way to the left,” Ant said with a strain.
Leroy obliged, surprised again at the effort it took to turn the wheel, then felt the car swing to the side. After a few seconds, it stopped.
“Now turn the wheel back to the right two times,” Ant said, and he and Chad moved to the back of the car and pushed some more.
The car rolled forward, and shortly they were traveling at a decent pace. Leroy looked down at the gap where the radio had been. Between that and the scuffling of Ant and Chad’s shoes, he wasn’t paying much attention.
A cursory glance out the window to his left showed an SUV streaking toward them on the main road. Leroy felt a primal shudder of panic quake through him, then slammed his foot on the brake. The car screeched to a halt, followed by a thud and a grunt.
“Sorry!” Leroy said, and hopped out to see what’d happened.
“Brother, you got him good!” Chad chortled.
Ant was holding his forehead and grimacing when he noticed Leroy walking toward him, and the car rolling in the opposite direction, right down the decline toward the main road and oncoming traffic. He shoved Leroy out of the way and jumped into the front seat, then stomped the brakes, stopping the car less than a foot away from the main road as the SUV breezed by, horn blaring.
“Dude!” laughed Chad.
“Sorry, Ant,” mumbled Leroy, picking himself off the ground. He was sorry, alright—sorry he had ever agreed to ride with Chad.
“It is fine,” he said, put the car in park, then searched for the emergency lights and turned them on, before exiting the car. “Just, please, do not hit the brakes unless I instruct you to do so.”
Leroy nodded even though he didn’t want to, then climbed back into the driver’s seat, grasped the wheel, and looked both ways. Ant and Chad took up their places at the back of the car, ready to push.
“Okay, put it in neutral,” Ant called out.
Leroy hesitated, gazing at the plethora of controls in front of him.
“Press the brake pedal and put the gear selector next to the ‘N’ again.”
He did, and with the help of Ant and Chad, the car pulled onto the road.
“Go left,” Chad said.
“Oh, God.” Ant stopped pushing in the middle of the empty road.
The road inclined to the left, not quite a hill, but not flat, either.
“Is there not a gas station to the right?” Ant asked.
“There is, but it’s miles out. The uphill sucks, but it’s not far. Promise.”
“At least you do not own a truck,” Ant sighed, resuming his position.
* * *
Chad drove unlike anybody Leroy had seen before.
He sat scooted up as far as possible, legs spread wide, steering wheel just inches from his chest, both hands gripping it. Leroy’s first instinct was to laugh, but who was he to criticize a driving style? He had no experience driving. For all he knew, that could be the most efficient technique.
In the middle rear seat, Leroy prodded his ankle with a finger, hoping with each poke that the pain would grow less intense, but it didn’t. He cursed himself for making the trip that much harder. He knew it wasn’t his fault, but it also was.
Despite the lack of a radio, crappy techno music thumped from the blown-out speakers of a boombox beside Leroy, which he didn’t mind because it seemed to keep Chad muted, which kept Ant quiet, which meant he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He admired the passing landscape; bushy trees pillowed the ground for as far as he could see, a verdant mirror image of the billowy clouds overhead.
Lovely as the scenery was, Leroy hoped they were close to the next station. The ride had hit and past the hour mark; they’d already driven through Denver and were traveling east. He was irritable and increasingly hungry, and the thought of eating bread and peanut butter made his stomach gurgle. What he wouldn’t give for some macaroni.
It wasn’t long before the road widened into two lanes, and on the other side of a hill that the small car seemed to have trouble making it over, the city began to eat into the forest, little by little, until the forest was gone.
Chad drove through traffic light after traffic light, turned right, then left, then right again, past head shops and record stores and sports supply outlets, his long hair swaying as he nodded to the relentless beat of the music. Block after block, they passed through the town, until it was only visible through the rear windshield. The car zipped along a road much like the one on which they’d pushed it earlier, the tinny drone of the exhaust accompanying Chad’s music.
A deep horn caught Leroy by surprise, as it always did, and he turned his head to see a short freight train running along a set of tracks that traveled away from the road. Relief swept through him. He couldn’t wait to get out of the car. Looking ahead, He could see a moderate-sized station at the end of the street. He hoped security wouldn’t be an issue; the pain in his ankle flared up at the thought of having to run.
Before they reached it, though, Chad pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant, parked behind the building, then killed the engine and the music. “Hey, you guys don’t think this place tows, do you?” he asked, taking off his seatbelt, then said “No, probably not,” in response to his own question.
“What’re you talking about? Why’d we stop here?” Leroy asked.
“I thought we could walk from here, so we don’t have to pay for parking.”
Ant sat back in his seat, his head turned slightly so he could see Leroy and Chad from the corner of his eye, watching with a subtle smirk.
“Like, you wanna come with us?”
“Well yeah,” Chad shrugged. “I drove you guys all the way out here and I don’t really feel like driving another hour back, so why not?”
Leroy didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even wanted a ride in the first place, though he wasn’t sure what they would’ve done if Chad hadn’t driven them. In fact, Leroy couldn’t think of any reason Chad couldn’t go with, besides that he simply didn’t want him to. Then, one came to him. “I don’t think we have enough money for three people,” he managed. “Florida’s so far.”
“But if you’re hopping trains the whole way, all you need is money for food. I don’t eat much in the first place, brother,” he laughed.
“Right. Um…” Leroy furiously searched for a convincing reason.
“The truth is, Chad,” Ant said, turning to face the two of them, “Leroy is in the midst of a journey, of a sort. He set out from California to find a woman from his past, who lives in Tampa, Florida.”
“Why you always gotta tell people that?” Leroy questioned.
“He looks a little young to have a woman in his past,” Chad joked.
“It is a personal quest. I believe Leroy simply wants control of his destiny.”
“Thank you,” Leroy said, glad Ant was finally getting it.
Chad’s grin faded as the point sunk in. “Then, why are you here?”
Ant’s brow lowered, and after a moment he said “To watch over him.”
There was silence in the car.
“The trouble is,” Ant posed, “
Leroy is a teenager, and thus his perspective is limited by rigid and underdeveloped ideologies and emotions.”
“The hell does that mean?”
“If you would like to help, then drive us,” Ant said, looking Chad in the eye. “Drive us as far as you can. We have eighty dollars—”
“Seventy-seven, and no,” Leroy said.
“Seventy-seven dollars, which amounts to two or three tanks of gas.”
“I’m not riding with anyone,” Leroy asserted.
“I could drive you guys, but how would I get back?” Chad asked.
“Exactly,” Leroy said, pouncing on his doubt. “No gas to get back.”
“A change of scenery might be a good thing, though.”
“Perhaps it would be,” Ant agreed.
“Anybody hearing me?” Leroy asked.
“What about my stuff back in Denver?”
“I’m not going!”
“Ah, I’ll figure it out. I have all the time in the world,” Chad said.
“It is not far. You could take a cab or a bus back,” Ant assured him.
“That’s true—good looking out, brother.”
“Hey!”
Ant and Chad turned to face him in the back seat.
“You two take your joyride if you want, but I’m not going.” He took a deep breath, and the reasons came flooding to him. “The train station’s right here!” cried Leroy. “This is my journey, I’m the captain, I make the decisions, and I refuse to blow all the money we got to get a little farther, a little quicker. What happens when we run out of the food we got now? We gonna survive on vitamins? Eat from dumpsters? Shoplift? We’re great at that.”
He gasped for air. It felt incredible to get all that out. The frustration, the anger, the anxiety, the uncertainty, stress, and fear—it’d been building up since he set out, but the instant he finished his rant, it had washed away. Slowly the uncertainty and anxiety seeped back into him, but it wasn’t overwhelming anymore. It was as if he’d found a reset button inside himself.
Quieter, he spoke. “Sorry, Chad. Appreciate the ride, seriously. But I don’t need a reason to navigate my own journey. That’s just how it is.”