Carter finished pumping gas into his Omega and swiftly tucked himself away behind his windshield. Now he was safe from being recognized, but his car was still an open target he could do nothing about. He started the engine and then noticed the man next to him restoring his pump to the machine and walking into the store. He eyed the vehicle sitting there unattended, and bad thoughts fired through his brain.
Carter quickly distinguished such thoughts because this would not help his case in the least. If he ditched his car in favor of another, he would be leaving behind his entire identity. Furthermore, there’d have more to go on with the stolen vehicle, and the charges against him would be piling up. He just pulled away from the pumps and headed back on the highway, wondering even more about who the hell he was.
Never in his life had Carter been more conscious of his surroundings. Route 80 took him away again, and he pushed through the countryside of Ohio, and by noon Indiana welcomed him with a large sign: The People of Indiana Welcome You.
Carter smirked at Indiana, thinking perhaps that sign wasn’t entirely true. It did not account for his arrival. His caution eased as he pushed his way deeper into the Midwest. Not only was he further from the scene, but he was traversing territory he’d never seen before. This Midwest was all new to Carter, and he was actually enjoying it. Perhaps it was his keen eye which ironically made the journey all the better.
There were rolling hills in Ohio and now flat, flat land in Indiana. There were so many farms and fields in these parts. It was a welcomed change from what the city life had offered him. He really felt a connection. He did not even know this sort of living existed, as it was out of sight and out of mind for his entire existence. He had never felt strongly about a region like the way he was feeling now.
CHAPTER NINE
Carter chugged along, admiring what the country had to offer. He was shocked by the beauty of the farmland in Ohio, and then he saw Amish folk plowing fields. He thought those people only planted themselves in Pennsylvania.
He moved into Indiana and then into Illinois. These two states were so flat from the interstate route that he traveled. He only saw fields of corn stalks in the early stages of life. Row after row of corn filled his view as far as the eye could see. He thought it was pretty, but not so much after a couple of hundred miles. He battled ferocious winds much of the way. Luckily, he was not surrounded by layers of traffic like in Massachusetts.
Iowa was next, and surprise, surprise! The cornfields not only continued, but there seemed to be more of them.
“How much corn does America eat?” Carter asked himself aloud.
He passed through Des Moines, and it seemed like it only took a couple of minutes. He questioned whether this was a capital city. He knew what city life consisted of and this was not it. There were cows close to the road in some areas, and he didn’t think they were enclosed. They must be on the honor system. He chuckled at the Midwestern version of a big city.
Nebraska was pretty much a continuation of Iowa, just further along to the left on the map of America. Carter was about an hour and a half into Nebraska when he decided to pull off the interstate for some lunch. There were signs for a “last chance” diner, and not being from around these parts, Carter had no choice but to believe them. It was dusty all right, just like it was straight out of the old western movies. His car pulled into a dusty parking lot and Carter gave his overworked engine a break.
As Carter walked from his car to the diner, a guy in a black Chrysler pulled up to him with the window down and said, “Hey buddy…have you seen a chick walking around? She got long, black hair and just over five feet tall.”
Carter stopped in his tracks and looked at the guy, wondering exactly what had unfolded in this man’s life prior to the girl’s disappearance.
“No,” Carter replied, “I just pulled off the interstate.”
“I know,” the man said.
Carter paused, thinking of how to respond to that and wondering about the innocence of that statement. He then proceeded to speak. “Haven’t seen your girl.”
Carter continued on after saying this, making a mental note of this guy who appeared to be about 25 years of age with short brown hair and a tiny nickel-sized tattoo on the front of his neck.
He grabbed an energy drink and a quick turkey sandwich and destroyed it at the counter in less than five minutes.
“Sorry you didn’t approve,” said the smiling middle-aged blonde waitress, scooping up the plate with her right hand, while collecting salt and pepper shakers with her left. She slapped down his check on her return and said, “I’ll take that whenever you’re ready, hon.”
Carter settled with the diner and began walking across the gravel lot as he returned to his car. The guy with the tattoo on his neck was still slowly rolling around through the gravel parking lot. He watched Carter cross the lot and get into his car, then he watched him as he slowly pulled onto the road. Carter noticed his every move from the corner of his eye, trying to make it seem like he did not even notice that the man was still around. Then Carter kicked up gravel as he peeled his tires and sped away.
Something drove Carter to keep going. He was running from the law, and even though he was days away from the scene, he still felt a little too close and uneasy about being seen, especially with this particular path where you can see forever. For all he knew, the entire nation was on the lookout, so no matter where he was he did not feel safe. Having only made one overnight stop in Illinois, Carter decided that it would be wise to lay low.
Now his mission to get the hell out of Dodge became somewhat of a game. His pride sprinkled in with his immortality. If God wanted him now, he thought, he would have kept him earlier. He realized he hadn’t yet finished the work he was supposed to do, even unaware of the details of that work. He did know that he was allegedly ousted from heaven until this job was completed. Although he knew that he would perish should he be crumpled by a semi, he still couldn’t help feeling his immortality as he pushed the pedal to the metal.
For the time being, Carter felt invincible. He still needed to unearth his purpose, so he could either not do it or work on it slowly. Now that he’d had another taste of life, he preferred it again, while no longer fearing death. It was so much easier to live this way. Anything goes, and risks have much less of an impact. He kept thinking that he had made a difference by participating in this world, and he could continue to make a difference. Maybe helping people do their taxes wasn’t the reason he was put on this earth, but he still made life more bearable for many people because of his work. Carter wanted more, though. He knew there was so much more, and he badly wanted a taste.
As crazy as life was for Carter now, each mile he felt more relaxed, more at home, and he thought perhaps that feeling grew because his home would never be the same. It would never really be home anymore. The funny thing was that Carter always felt displaced. He always had trouble fitting in, and that feeling abated perhaps due to the fact that he didn’t have to fit in on the road. For the first time, he felt in charge of his destiny, and that thought alone brought comfort to him, and it also brought a smile to his face.
Carter plowed through Nebraska, suddenly realizing that this journey showed him more corn than he’d ever seen in his entire life. The newly formed rows blasted into horizons all around him. Every year the stalks kept coming back for more.
The highway drive became so monotonous that Carter began guessing the height of the cornfields. Then he began trying to estimate the number of corn stalks in America. He laughed aloud while his mind tried calculating a figure for kernels of corn in America, then dividing by the number of kernels he’d devoured in his lifetime. He knew that he was being corny.
Carter impulsively pulled over to the side of the highway, unsure if he did so to eas
e the strain on his eyes, or whatever, but he certainly felt odd not knowing exactly why he did something. He was even unfazed by tractor trailers whizzing past, rocking his car from side to side. This accident had affected him in so many tiny ways, making him feel like a non-entity. It disturbed him not knowing his true self. It felt like he lived in a fog, which even to Carter was frightening. He felt like a puppet on a string, or a voodoo doll, having no control over anything, yet control over everything.
He knew something just had to give, one way or the other. But here he drove, merely thinking about how many kernels of corn he’d eaten in his entire life. It was a simple, harmless inquiry by anybody’s standards, but then he stopped functioning after realizing that the answer was none.
“His entire life” was operative here. Carter, as an individual, a person, self, identity, spirit, or whatever you wish to call it, lacked those identifying elements. He had been labeled “Carter” all his life, but now felt rootless. Maybe he was enamored by the cornstalks for that reason. His life could turn out to be one big lie, phony, scam, worthless piece of shit. As a result, emptiness pervaded his mind since he still did not know himself, and if this accident had never happened, or even if he did get tickets to the Bruins, then it would have meant Carter never getting the chance to find out something was amiss.
He had to wonder about the more desirable circumstance. Imagine living your whole life thinking you were somebody, then finding out that you could be somebody else. All of your blood relatives would suddenly be unrelated to you. This felt like the butt end of a joke to Carter. Simply put, his life had been a card game up to this point. Now it was time to reshuffle and deal a new hand.
A tear finally oozed out from his eye, igniting his desire to find out who Carter really was. He wondered if it would have been better to live that life he had been living, and never knowing anything else. He again eyed his surroundings, and then knew which scenario he preferred. The flood gates then opened up, and Carter sobbed uncontrollably, thinking about this turn of events in his life.
Carter glanced at his gas gage after seeing a rare sign for gas in the middle of America. Nebraska is a long state, and it was a challenge for Carter to get across. He still had a quarter of a tank, but felt it would be best if he filled up while he could. He was unsure if he would see another gas station in the next quarter of a tank, so he took the little exit to nowhere.
Carter made it through the door of the station and walked over to the self- serve coffee station. He waited for the girl in front of him to finish ripping sugar packets open and dumping the contents into her coffee. He stood quietly waiting to get his chance. The girl swung her long black hair around and started to move toward Carter without a lid on her cup. Surprised at seeing Carter right there, she stopped short of bumping into him, and her coffee rocked back and forth, splashing over the top and burning her hands.
“Ouch…shit!” she screamed out, dropping the cup, and watching it splatter onto the floor. The coffee reached Carter’s feet, and wiped out the pastry boxes that were stacked up on a shelf against the wall. The little foreign man behind the counter threw his hands up in the air and started blurting out incoherent words in his own language. He went into a back room and returned moments later with a mop and bucket, and several small white rags.
Carter grabbed a couple of rags from his hand and started wiping the coffee from the girl’s shoes, and kept repeating to the girl, “Are you ok?” He finally looked into the girl’s eyes and stopped in his tracks, silenced in the middle of yet another inquiry as to her condition. Her long, silky black hair hung straight down to the middle of her back. He noticed by the calm look on her face that she was more embarrassed than anything else. With the rag in his hand, Carter grabbed both her hands and began wiping them clean. Her blue eyes were highlighted by multicolor eyeliner, which was a wild but pleasing look to Carter.
“I’m okay,” she said, thanking Carter for his assistance. Her teeth sparkled more so than her eyes, sometimes even reflecting the sun. She was average looking, but seemingly wilder than Carter had been used to. She existed in this dark gothic-like aura, which intrigued Carter. Sure, she had a nice smile, but something about this girl drew Carter in. Something dark and wild exuded from this brief encounter.
“I think my hands are dry now,” she said to Carter through a chuckle.
“Oh, I’m okay, I mean…I’m sorry,” said Carter, nervous and embarrassed that his attraction and affections were out in the open. They locked eyes for what seemed an eternity. Carter was no longer embarrassed. He was struck. There was something about this girl that Carter needed at this moment in time. Maybe she was in his shoes, he thought. Maybe she was searching like he was searching.
Finally, he formed a sentence. “I’m Carter,” he said. “And you are?”
“Grateful,” she said. “Thank you for your help. You kind of surprised me there. I didn’t know you were behind me.”
Carter shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I was just waiting for you to finish up there,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Not at all,” she interrupted. “It was totally my fault. I’m just in a daze. I’ve got a lot on my mind these days.”
Carter remembered seeing only one vehicle out in the lot of this dusty station, and figured it was the employee’s car, and that he would be the only patron in the store. Then there was this mystery lady who just knocked his socks off, and he couldn’t figure out why. He communicated with this girl as he would an old friend. He very much wanted to help her out, and rectify anything that he had caused, and he was willing to do anything to prolong the moment.
Carter placed his coffee cup on one of the sit-down booths as he started making small talk with this girl.
“Why don’t you sit and dry off?” he asked, holding his hand out and down to where the booth was.
She chuckled sincerely, and accepted his offer. He knew that it wasn’t a courtesy-laugh because in the short time that they’d been together at the gas station, he could tell that this girl shot straight from the hip. He knew it, and he admired it, and he wished he could emulate it. He also felt that if he let her get away without at least a conversation, then he would be one sorry guy. Plus, he could not leave one stone unturned.
The two sat down at the booth, Carter joking about the lack of a sign saying, “Please wait to be seated.” His new friend chimed in that she didn’t think it was that kind of place.
“Maybe not,” said Carter, “but it’s my kinda place.”
“You’re crazy,” she said.
“Now I am,” said Carter, “but that is all new to me. I used to be Mr. Conservative.”
“Why do you say that you used to be?” she asked.
“Because I am no longer,” Carter replied.
The girl laughed out loud. “You certainly are a wise ass,” she said, “but I like that in a guy.” She shot a look of adoration into Carter’s eyes.
Carter looked across the table and into her blue eyes, and he stopped laughing when he made eye contact. Those eyes, he thought. There was something in her eyes that were so revealing, so warm, yet so intense. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he felt strongly enough about his sensation that made him want to delay leaving her behind.
That thought alone just wasn’t something Carter was used to. In fact, he didn’t ever remember getting close to a woman before in his entire life. He knew that he had plenty of chances, but something held him back. Whatever was holding him back had now diminished.
“If there’s anything I can do,” Carter began, thinking this was his closing sentence and she would perish forever.
Brenda leaned forward with a smile that opened up like the rising sun in the east. “If you’re heading to Colorado then there is,” she said with a
giggle. “I was returning to Boulder. You see, I was visiting a friend of mine at school in Lincoln, Nebraska, and my damn car quit on me!” She said this in disbelief and disgust as her eyes opened wide when she said it. “The garage a few miles back told me it would cost more to fix than it was worth, so here I am. He gave me 25 dollars for the piece of shit parts, though.”
She reached into the front pocket of her tight black jeans and pulled out the money and handed it to Carter. “Here’s some gas money. If you could use a passenger, I could sure use a ride. I’m already beat after only a couple of miles, and I still have to cross Nebraska and a third of Colorado. Oh, and by the way…I’m Brenda.”
Carter stood there stunned, looking at her offering in her outstretched hand. He locked eyes with her again. The warmest feeling overcame him. He stood there dumfounded, and feeling bad for her string of bad luck. He could certainly sympathize with her. What was it about this girl? he wondered. Sure, she was okay on his eyes, but there was something beyond external appearances that bowled him over.
“Nonsense,” he replied. “I happen to be going to…Colorado as well. It’s awfully lonely driving alone, and I’d love for you to join me. Besides, I owe it to you for spilling coffee all over you.”
“Oh stop it,” she said. “You don’t owe me shit. And I’m not going to sue you for millions of dollars like that bogus McDonald’s incident. Besides, I share in the blame. If I wasn’t so consumed in thought then this would not have happened.”
“Come on,” said Carter. “Let me get you another coffee.”
Carter walked back up to the coffee station and refilled both cups, adding cream and sugar, a flawless effort this time around. He grabbed extra sugar packets and stuffed them into his pocket. Carter paid for the coffee and they moved on out of the station, almost as if they had walked in together. There was an instant bond between the two that was very difficult to find in life these days, and Carter would bet that Brenda seemed to sense it too.
Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) Page 7