The Trip

by Tim Morgan

  “Nice binoculars,” Dave said.

  “These should come in handy.” Chris held them out.

  Chris and Dave found their way to the lower level, where Meghan had spread a paper map out on the table. “This is probably the last of the big towns we’ll see for a while,” Meghan said. “We need to start pulling centuries or we’re never going to get home before winter.”

  “I can ride a hundred miles,” Chris said, “Can you guys?”

  Dave and Meghan stared intently at Chris. “Yeah, we can,” Meghan said. “We’re here just outside Milan. Tomorrow we need to get to Wenona, then Cambridge. The towns out here are small, so we shouldn’t run into many zombies.”

  Chris nodded. “The lock on this door works,” he said. “No watches tonight, let’s all try to get a good night’s sleep. It’s going to be an early day tomorrow.”

  FOURTEEN

  New Delhi, India (Reuters). Editor’s note—the Indian government is tightly controlling media access to information on the Mumbai virus. The account that follows could not be independently verified.

  Mumbai remains a city under siege, stricken with a previously unidentified virus that has sickened thousands and killed hundreds. The flu strikes suddenly and knows no boundaries: the young; old; children; women; healthy; sick. Victims fall ill without warning and sometimes die within hours.

  An unidentified Indian doctor who referred to himself as Raj says he has seen three dozen bodies in the morgue leap off their gurneys and attack the hospital staff. He was the last person out of the morgue before a paramilitary unit arrived. Raj said the commandos opened fire, killing everyone in the room, staff and victim alike. Two of the soldiers were bitten by the infected and moved to the emergency room. Raj fled the hospital, gathered his family and the few possessions he could fit in his car, then headed out of the city. He made it out of Mumbai hours before the government sealed the city. “I left everything in Mumbai,” Raj said, “My practice, my home. Everything I have is in Mumbai. What am I to do?”

  Dave checked his bow tie for the eighth time. This was the first time he had to wear a tuxedo and it felt awkward. The shoes weren’t anywhere near comfortable. The collar felt like it was made out of cardboard and it scratched around his neck. He’d sprayed some cologne on twice already. Should I put more of this stuff on, or would that be overkill? I think this looks OK in here, but outside the bathroom where the light’s different am I going to look as good?

  He checked the time—it was almost five. Any minute now the limo with Meghan would be here. Dave’s hands were sweating and he was breathing fast. I’ve known Meghan since kindergarten, why am I so nervous? Because this is going to be our only senior prom.

  There was a knock on the door. “Are you done in there yet?” Joey squealed. “I have to go!”

  Dave opened the door. Joey pushed past him without even an “excuse me.”

  “Hey, watch the tux!” Dave said as the bathroom door slammed. He decided to let it go; he was nervous enough and didn’t want to start the night off angry. He shook his head and walked up the stairs to the living room. Mom and Dad were there with the camera.

  “Here he is!” Dad said.

  “Stand together so I can take a picture,” Mom said. She held the camera up and snapped a few as they stood together.

  Dad winked as he put an arm around Dave. “Ladykiller,” he whispered. Dave smiled for the camera. It was nice to have Mom and Dad making a big deal about him. The attention he got between the prom and the gig writing for the Minuteman was a welcome change.

  They snapped a few more pictures when Meghan’s parents arrived. Meghan’s mom hugged Dave and commented on how good he looked; her father shook his hand. Their parents were making small talk when the limo pulled up. Dave walked toward the door, entranced.

  “Flowers,” his mom said. He blushed as he walked back to the kitchen table and grabbed the small white box.

  Dave stood at the door as the chauffeur got out and opened the rear door. Meghan stepped out of the back seat in a green dress with sparkly gold trim that fit her body well. Her hair was full and wavy with one curl dangling down along her cheek and it framed her face perfectly and she never looked hotter. Dave nearly tripped going down the stairs. The deep color of the dress brought out everything beautiful in Meghan—her hair, her eyes, her skin.

  “Meghan?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “Wow,” was all Dave could say. He felt stupid as the words left his mouth, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “You look . . . ” Dave searched for words but none would come

  Meghan smiled back. “Thanks,” she said.

  Dave opened the box and showed Meghan the corsage and boutonniere. There were green flowers to match her dress and his tie and cummerbund. The corsage had a little strap with green rhinestones on it. “Dave,” she said, “you picked that out?”

  Dave nodded. Meghan held her hand out and he fastened the corsage to her wrist. It complemented her dress perfectly. She took his hand in hers and held it for a moment. Then they embraced. Meghan could feel Dave’s heart pounding in his chest. She held his hand as they took more pictures, hoping the gesture would help settle his nerves. They took some more pictures before getting in the limo for their night out.

  “I’ve never been in a limo before,” Dave said.

  “Me neither,” Meghan replied.

  The seats were plush leather: soft and dark and they felt like they felt like they were poured around their bodies. There was a radio with a CD player and a bunch of controls on it, some glasses (but no liquor), and a TV with a DVD player. “Cool, there’s a TV in here! We could watch Spider-Man,” Dave said.

  “The last thing I want to do on the way to my prom is watch Spider-Man.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. “We’re graduating in a couple weeks,” Meghan said. Her eyes were on the scenery rolling by outside.

  “Yeah,” Dave said. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

  “Tell me about it,” Meghan said.

  “Then off to college.”

  “Before that there’s the trip. You can’t forget the trip.”

  “How could I forget the trip. You’ve been training pretty hard.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It shows.”

  “I know.”

  “You look great.”

  “Thanks.”

  Meghan squeezed Dave’s hand. They made small talk on the way into Boston, laughing and enjoying the quiet time together.

  Traci wore a silver gown that hugged her body, her hair up in a bun with a few curly strands framing her face. Chris thought he looked like Shia LeBoeuf with the hottie of the week on his arm headed for the premiere.

  They smiled and took their pictures, but things between their parents were awkward to say the least. Traci’s father barely acknowledged Chris’ father. Their mothers were cordial toward each other, but the warmth they knew before the break-up was gone.

  Chris and Traci said their goodbyes as they climbed into the limo. Traci put the privacy partition up. “That was weird,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Chris said. “I don’t think your dad said two words to mine.”

  “I can’t say I blame him,” Traci said. The limo pulled out onto Boston Road and headed for Route 3 for the trip into Boston. Traci looked out the window, her eyes scanning the outside. “This wasn’t such a good idea.”

  Chris put his arm around Traci. “I told you I was sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d talk to me again.”

  Traci took his arm off her shoulders. “I agreed to be your prom date, Chris,” she said. “I know what this means to you. But we’re here as friends. When I said it was over, I meant it was over.”

  The words were a hornet sting in Chris’ chest. If there was one thing that kept him going it was the hope that he could get back together with Traci. I know I screwed up, he thought, what more do I need to do? Haven’t I suffered enough? How much more of this do I have t
o take?

  Chris shrank back in his seat. He opened the window and leaned one arm on the armrest, the other clenched into a loose fist on his lap. “You’re right,” he said. “Friends. Sorry about that.” They spent the rest of the ride in awkward silence. Sadness welled up from the very depths of Chris’ soul, but he bit his tongue and turned the despair inward.

  Meghan and Dave greeted some of their friends and headed right over to have their pictures taken. The photographer had a flat screen set up where they could see previews of the picture. Meghan thought theirs looked awesome. She looked elegant in her dress, the green bringing out her skin and her eyes and her hair. And Dave was too cute, with his boyish smile.

  Another monitor was cycling through pictures already taken. They paused there and saw a few of their friends. Some of the pictures were good, though Meghan didn’t think they looked quite as good as hers. Until she saw the picture of Sebrina and Mike.

  Sebrina had on a black dress covered in sequins and long, black gloves. The dress was probably a size too small and it looked like her boobs were going to pop right out if she moved the wrong way. Her hair was tossed over to one side; her right hand was on the side of Mike’s face. Her other was on her hip. Her eyes were narrow, seductive. Meghan thought if she tried looking like that she’d look more stupid than hot.

  “You okay?” Dave asked.

  “Yeah,” Meghan said. Her voice wavered a bit as they walked away from the photographer.

  “You don’t sound okay.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’s the picture of Sebrina and Mike, right?”

  Meghan took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “It still hurts. And she looks so good in that picture. It drives me nuts.”

  Dave took Meghan’s hand in his. “You look better,” he said.

  “You think so?”

  Dave turned and looked Meghan in the eye. “I can go egg his house if you want,” he whispered.

  Meghan laughed. “That’s what you said you and Chris were going to do when he dumped me.”

  “I’m still game.” He winked. Meghan put an arm around him and smiled again. I will do anything to protect you, Dave thought.

  After dinner Meghan excused herself to double check her hair. Dave was actually willing to dance with her, and she wanted to let her hair down. Someone walked in as Meghan was taking the bobby pins out of her hair. In the mirror was Sebrina James.

  Just who I want to see, Meghan thought. Go away. Just go away.

  “Hello, Meghan,” Sebrina said in her slightly nasal voice. She didn’t quite look right—her eyes were glassy and her voice was off.

  “Hi,” Meghan replied.

  Sebrina put her arm around Meghan. She looked like she was about to fall asleep, and Meghan thought she smelled something sickly sweet. It wasn’t perfume, it was more raw, unrefined. She really wasn’t sure what it was.

  “I’m going to take good care of Mikey, show him a good time,” Sebrina said. She giggled. Meghan didn’t find it funny.

  “You do that,” Meghan said. She double checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was down, falling in tight little curls. Hey, this looks pretty good.

  “Maybe you can come with us,” Sebrina said. “We got a room . . . more the merrier.”

  “Get lost,” Meghan said. She packed her stuff up and started out of the ladies’ room.

  “Fine, be that way,” Sebrina snapped. “Be a good little crack whore.”

  One word came to mind. “Slut,” Meghan fired back. With that she turned and left. Sebrina was shouting something after her, challenging Meghan to go back and say that to her face. Meghan kept walking, heart pounding in her chest, choking her tears back. I want to cry but I can’t let her see me. I can’t give her the satisfaction. A couple of people in the hallway stopped and stared at the ladies’ room door. God, please, I don’t want to get into a fight at my prom. I know I should have kept my mouth shut—but she drew first blood!

  Meghan found her way back to the table. Dave was sitting there with Chris, Traci, and a few people she didn’t recognize. She grabbed Dave by the hand. “Let’s dance,” she said.

  Dave looked over at Chris. Chris nodded, gesturing to the dance floor. There was a ballad playing—Meghan didn’t know what it was, it sounded kind of old—she thought it was “Never Tear Us Apart.”

  Chris watched Meghan and Dave disappear onto the dance floor. They do make a cute couple, he thought. He swirled the Coke in his cup and watched the ice circling the rim. When Sebrina James stopped to say “hi” to someone at the next table, Chris tried to discreetly look down her gown. He couldn’t help himself—she was practically screaming “Look at me!” And most everyone did.

  The problem was Chris wasn’t discreet, and everyone at the table—including Traci—realized what he was doing. That was bad enough, but Sebrina realized it too. She walked by and messed with Chris’ hair. Traci threw her napkin on the table and stormed off without a word.

  Why did I do that, Chris thought, why do I keep doing this? I’ve got to apologize to Traci. He rose from his seat and turned to see Sebrina, her eyes sleepy and seductive. Oh no, not here. Not now. Not here. God, she looks fine.

  “Wanna dance?” Sebrina asked.

  “What about Mike?” Chris asked. The question was more to protect Mike than anything else—Chris was sure he could take Mike if he was dumb enough to start something.

  “This is about you, not Mike. You wanna dance or what?”

  “Okay,” Chris said. What the hell, Traci’s angry at me and I’ve paid a lot of money to be here. If we’re just here as friends, I can slow dance with anyone I want.

  Sebrina took Chris by the hand and led him out to the middle of the dance floor. She turned and pulled Chris in close. On the way to the dance floor Chris caught a whiff of something on Sebrina.

  “Have you been smoking pot?” he asked.

  “Mmm-hmmm.” She pulled Chris in closer, her eyes narrow, her lips pursed. Wow, Chris thought, she looks hot. Her hand slid up to the back of Chris’ head. “I’ve always thought you were cute.” Her breath was hot and moist and had hints of Altoids over cinnamon with a trace of alcohol.

  Chris said. “Cinnamon schnapps?” That’s my favorite drink.

  “You ask too many questions.”

  Dave heard Meghan gasp toward the end of the song. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  They turned. Dave gasped. “Oh, God,” he whispered. In the middle of the dance floor, Chris and Sebrina were locked in a deep kiss. They parted. Sebrina said something to Chris. Chris nodded, then the two of them headed off the dance floor.

  Meghan and Dave looked at one another. “Would you mind if I . . . ” Dave said.

  They stepped apart. “Go,” Meghan said, “I’ll be here, or at the table.”

  Dave had to fight his way through the crowded dance floor. The feeling of so many bodies so tightly packed, radiating heat and pushing him around like it was high tide drove Dave nuts. This is why I didn’t go to many dances in middle school, he thought. I hate crowds.

  Dave caught up to Sebrina and Chris at the elevator. “Chris!” Dave called as the door opened.

  Chris turned. Dave ran up to him as Sebrina pressed the call button.

  “Dude,” Dave said, “you got a second? We need to talk.”

  The elevator was still several floors up. Chris stepped away with Dave.

  “What’s up?” Chris asked.

  “What are you doing?” Dave asked, “Are you nuts? After what you went through to get Traci back you’re going to throw it all away?”

  “Dude,” Chris said, “We’re not here as boyfriend and girlfriend. We’re here as friends.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Friends. You know, someone to sit with. Talk to. Take a picture with. But that’s it.”

  A bell dinged. The elevator door opened and Sebrina stepped inside. She held the door open with one hand, put the other on her hip, and jutted it out. She leaned forward
a little bit. Eye contact, Dave thought, look at her eyes.

  “You coming?” Sebrina called. “Oh, hi Dave.”

  “Hi Sebrina,” Dave said. He turned his attention back to Chris. “You still have a chance.”

  “Dave,” Sebrina called, dragging his name out, “if you get bored with Meghan, you can come up to our room. I’ll make sure you have a good time.”

  Meghan, I’m here with Meghan. She’s waiting for me. I can’t do this. God, she’s hot, and I want to go up there but I can’t. I won’t. He called over his shoulder, “Thanks.” This sucks. This sucks so bad.

  “Can we please not talk about this now?” Chris stepped toward the elevator. Dave stood in his way, back to Sebrina, and tapped Chris’ chest with the palms of his hands. They stared at one another, neither believing this was happening.

  “Chris, I talked to Traci after you guys broke up. She said you were the best thing that ever happened to her. She still cares, man. She’s hurt, yeah, but deep down inside she cares and you’ve never walked away from anything!”

  “Chris, are you coming or not?” Sebrina purred.

  “Dave,” Chris said, “get out of my way.”

  Dave stepped aside. He watched Chris get onto the elevator. Sebrina wrapped herself around him as the door closed. Dave ran a hand through his hair, stomped a foot on the ground. Dammit! Why doesn’t he listen to me? He skulked back toward the ballroom and saw Meghan in the hall.

  “I saw what happened,” Meghan said.

  “I tried to stop him,” Dave said, “he wouldn’t listen to me.”