Rev looks into her eyes and squeezes her hand. “Okay,” she says, still sounding nervous. “Okay, yeah. We gotta try. We’ve come this far.”
“You don’t even have to leave the van.”
Rev nods, squeezing her eyes shut, obviously trying to control her breathing.
Cass takes a few deep breaths, as well. “I’m gonna have to apologize, aren’t I?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Shawna says.
Cass slams her head on the steering wheel one more time, causing Rev to flinch, then takes a few more deep breaths.
“A concussion isn’t going to get you out of this,” Shawna says.
“Just shut up and give me a minute,” Cass says.
“I’ll just go . . . butter him up,” Shawna says, then shudders at her own wording. That did not sound right, at all, but she walks forward, prepared for the buttering.
“Excuse me, sir?” she says.
Cal glances at her, then back down at his phone. “What?”
Shawna wonders what he’s doing on there that’s so important. “My friends and I happen to be a little stuck. You see, we’re out of gas, and there isn’t another station for twenty miles or so. I was wondering if, maybe, you’d be willing to help us out a little?” she asks.
Cal glances up at the van, where Rev and Cass quickly avert their stares, then back to Shawna.
“Why should I help a group of rude folks like yourselves?” he asks. There’s a smug undertone in his speech making it hard for Shawna to keep up her friendly smile.
“My friend can apologize for shouting at you. We’re all just a little stressed. You see, we’re kind of on a deadline here and we really, really need to get to where we’re going—fast,” Shawna says.
Cal contemplates her. “Apologies don’t buy gasoline,” he says.
“We have money,” Shawna says. “We’ll pay you back.”
The man smirks. “Dollars don’t buy my interest,” he says.
Shawna tenses. They’re losing precious driving time and whatever would buy his interest doesn’t sound very pleasant. She almost doesn’t want to ask, but they’re desperate. “What would buy your interest?”
The man glances around the station, he spots something, and the smirk is back on his face. “See that telephone pole up there? I want your rude friend to climb it and shout an apology down at me. Then, maybe, I’ll let you have some of my gas,” he says.
Shawna cranes her neck to see the top of the pole. She wouldn’t climb that thing, even if she wanted to. It’s dangerous, way too easy to fall and break your neck, or touch the wrong thing and get electrocuted.
“But . . . she can’t,” Shawna says, still staring up at the top of the pole.
“Then I guess you can’t drive anywhere,” Cal says, looking back down at his phone. Shawna can hear little beeps and dings that sound like some kind of game. He smirks at the screen. He’s playing a stupid game. Shawna can feel something angry start to come to her throat.
The bell on top of the shop door tinkles.
“Calvin!” Irma shouts from the steps.
Cal’s eyes go wide and he fumbles with his phone, catching it just in time with a look of horror at how close it was to shattering on the ground. Shawna can practically feel Cass’s satisfied smirk from here.
“Are you being cruel, again?” Irma asks, hands on her hips, glaring at Cal.
Cal puffs out his chest and glares back. “They were being rude. Figured I’d teach ’em a lesson,” he says.
“Oh, boo hoo!” Irma says, stepping down and marching up to Cal, “What kinda man are you? Tormentin’ these poor, stranded little girls?”
“Listen, here, woman—” Cal says, pointing his phone at her.
Irma plucks it out of his fingers. “Don’t you ‘woman’ me, boy! I oughta call your mother and ask her if you talk to her like that. Maybe tell her how you’re treatin’ these kids, on top of it.”
Cal seems taken aback by this, unsure of what to say. “I’m . . . I’m a grown man! You can’t threaten to call my mother on me!”
“Oh, can’t I?” Irma opens his phone without a problem and shows him his mother’s contact number. Her finger hovers over the dial button.
Cal’s wide, angry, unsure eyes glance between the cashier, the phone, and the van a few times before he grunts and pulls a gas carton and a hose out of the back of his pickup.
A few minutes later, the van has enough gas to at least get them to the next station and Cal is leaning against his pickup, grumbling.
“You three drive safe, now,” Irma says to them. “And don’t think too badly on Cal, here. He’s really not as much of a jerk as he pretends to be.”
Cal lets out an annoyed grunt and Cass gives him a flat look. “Seems like a pretty solid jerk to me,” she says.
“I know.” Irma shakes her head, then jerks it up. “Oh! There’s something you ought to know before you head out. They’re callin’ for a big storm this afternoon, and these highways are kinda narrow.”
“Probably shouldn’t be driving,” Cal mutters just loud enough for them to hear him.
“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t, but you seem like you’re in a hurry,” Irma says.
“We are,” Cass says, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. She pauses and takes another deep breath. “Thank you for the gas and the warning,” she says. Rev and Shawna stare at her with wide eyes.
“Any time,” Irma says. “Get going now! Maybe you can outdrive the storm, but remember that wherever you’re headin’ ain’t worth your lives.”
“Right. Of course,” Shawna says, recovering from her shock. “Thanks again!”
Irma waves as they drive off, elbowing Cal so that he waves too.
CASS HAS THE WINDSHIELD WIPERS WORKING SO FAST that Rev is afraid they’ll fall off. She can hardly see anything out the side windows, and anything visible in the front window is soon distorted by what amounts to another three buckets of water tossed onto the windshield.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t pull over? This seems like a little much to be driving through,” Rev says.
“It’ll be fine,” Cass says.
“There’s no other cars on the road, anyway,” Shawna says.
“Yeah, because they’re all smart enough not to drive in a storm like this!” Rev says.
“Stop it,” Cass says, glaring at the road ahead. Or maybe she’s trying to squint through the rain.
Rev can feel a lump in her throat. She doesn’t know if that means she’s going to cry or have a panic attack or both. She wants to get out of this car. She closes her eyes and tries to pretend that it’s not happening, that they’re not going to crash.
But they are . . .
No! They’re not, no . . .
They are . . .
She feels Shawna take her hand. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, alright? I’m here. We’re safe. It’s okay,” she says.
“No, it’s not, we’re not safe, it’s not okay,” Rev says, shaking her head.
“I said, stop it!” Cass says, gripping the wheel tightly. Rev knows that freaking out in the back seat probably isn’t helping Cass’s concentration, but she can’t stop.
“Shhhh.” Shawna is trying to comfort her, but it’s not helping. She needs to get out of this van. She needs to get out!
Then the van swerves, slipping on a large puddle in the road. Cass’s eyes go wide and she grips the steering wheel even tighter than before, trying to keep control. Rev screams.
The van stops on a muddy patch of grass just off the road. It didn’t roll or crash into anything, and neither the equipment nor the band seem to be broken.
Rev is gasping and sobbing in the back. Cass is breathing heavily, frozen at the wheel, eyes still wide. Shawna looks at them both and feels a calm wash over her. Her friends are scared. She needs to help. She unbuckles and climbs into the back with Rev, unbuckling her, too, and taking hold of her shoulders.
“It’s okay, Rev. It’s okay, it’s over. We’re not hurt. You’re n
ot hurt. Everything’s okay.” Shawna repeats it like a mantra until Rev’s breathing returns to normal, then slowly pulls her into a hug and lets her cry it out. That’s one down.
Shawna turns to see that Cass is still in the same position. “Cass? Are you okay?” she asks, still hugging Rev.
“Huh? Um . . . I . . . uh-huh . . . ” Cass says, not sounding sure.
“You did a really great job,” Shawna says. “You kept control of the van and we’re all okay, now.”
“Yeah. Y-yeah. I did. I did that,” Cass says. Her grip on the wheel begins to relax and her breathing slows back to normal.
Shawna puts a hand on her shoulder, keeping one arm around Rev. “We’re all okay,” she says.
Cass reaches over to grab her hand.
A tapping on the side of the van causes all three of the bandmates to jump. They sit in silence as it moves its way towards the driver’s side door, then jump again when it knocks. Who could or would be out in this storm on the side of the road? Shawna can see a distorted shadow through the window, but that’s about it. It knocks again.
“Is everyone alright in there?” says a muffled voice from outside.
When Cass rolls down the window, the bandmates are met with the face of a little old woman in a heavy, green rain jacket and dark sunglasses. She’s holding a white cane.
“Is that a window I heard? Are you alright in there?” the woman asks.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re fine,” Shawna says, recovering first.
“Are you crazy, lady?” Cass says. “What are you doin’ out here in all this?”
“I should be asking you the same question,” the woman says. “It’s dangerous to be driving in a storm like this.”
“Where . . . where did you come from?” Shawna asks. Rev is still crying in her arms. It feels like she’s trying to burrow into Shawna’s chest to escape this strange woman.
The woman points her cane at a small, green house just off the road. “I heard tires screeching and came out. Thought you might need some help,” she says, then taps the top of the van with her cane. “Your car seems to be upright, though, which is good. You know why they call cars like these SUVs?”
“Why?” Shawna asks.
“Because they’re Semi-Upright Vehicles.”
Rev’s sobbing turns into semi-hysterical laughter. Shawna realizes that she’s joined in. Even Cass is shaking with stifled laughter. The joke isn’t even that funny, but they all laugh until there are tears in their eyes (or, in Rev’s case, more tears). They laugh and hug one another, and the woman waits patiently as they regain control of themselves, a little smile on her face.
“Would you like to come inside for a little bit? Wait out the worst of this storm?” the woman asks.
“No,” Shawna says, a huge smile on her face. “No, sorry. Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got a gig to play in a few hours.” For the first time in what feels like forever, she’s excited as she says it. She’s not stressed or worried about getting there on time. She still wants to, still wants to feel that crowd loving her, but if they can’t make it, if the storm really does keep them from it, it won’t matter. What will matter is that they survived, that they stayed together. There will be more opportunities, but even if there aren’t, everything they’ve gone through will still have been worth it. She looks into Rev’s and Cass’s eyes and she knows that they feel the same. They’re going to see this to its end, no matter what that end is. And they’re going to do it together.
“A gig, huh?” the woman says. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do wonderfully.”
“Thanks,” Shawna says with a giggle.
“If you’re gonna keep going through this storm, though, you’ll have to drive more carefully. You’re not out of the woods, yet.”
Shawna feels something odd settle in her stomach when the woman says that, like she’s talking about more than just driving on slick roads. She doesn’t know where the feeling came from or what it means, but it gives her pause. They’ve been through so much already, but maybe they’re not quite finished yet.
“Alright, lady, we’ll be careful,” Cass says.
“Thanks for worrying about us,” Rev mutters, a small smile on her face.
“It’s not a problem, dears,” the woman says.
She walks away, tapping her cane in front of her, as Cass pulls back into the road, but Shawna watches her until she can’t see the little green coat or the little green house anymore.
For the next couple of hours, Cass drives slower and more carefully. Rev is back to strumming on her acoustic, her eyes closed, trying to keep herself from panicking again.
Shawna is still staring out the window, thinking about the old lady. “You didn’t feel it, at all?” she asks Cass sometime after the storm lets up. They discussed Shawna’s strange feeling earlier, and Cass said Shawna was just being weird and on edge from the near-accident.
“Are you seriously still on about this?” Cass asks, rolling her eyes.
“I can’t help it,” Shawna says. “It’s a gut feeling, Cass. I trust my gut.”
“Since when?”
Shawna huffs and turns back to the window. She pulls her phone out of her pocket. The screen is black. She’d turned her phone back off after she’d used it to find a guitar store. It was too stressful, and the million messages used up too much of her battery. She moves her thumb to the power button.
“Don’t do it,” Cass says. “You’re gonna regret it. We’re supposed to be getting pumped for the show right now! Aren’t you pumped? I’m pumped! Aren’t you pumped, Rev?”
“Yeah, I’m pumped!” Rev says.
“Yeah!” Cass says. “So, seriously, put that thing away.”
Shawna considers it, then holds her thumb down on the power button. The screen lights up and the little opening chime rings out. As soon as it warms up, her screen is bombarded with notifications. Emails, Facebook messages, texts, calls, the whole nine yards. Her brow furrows and she hisses a little, as if she’s been physically struck.
Rev is playing a little louder in the back seat, and Cass lets out a disappointed sigh. Shawna unlocks her phone and scrolls through the most recent messages. They’re all from her dads. Some are long, some are short, some are worried, some are angry, but most are whr r u? Her heart breaks for them. They’re her parents. They love her, she knows they do. Considering everything she’s been through in these past two days, they had every right to be worried about her doing this.
She’s tempted to text or call them, just to tell them that she’s alright, but then she sees the most recent text. Her eyes widen. “Guys,” she says, “I think our parents are already there.”
Rev plays a wrong note.
Cass has to stop herself from slamming on the breaks in reaction. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asks in a measured tone.
“The last text from my dad. It says, ‘We here with Cass and Rev’s parents and Junie’s aunt. Where are you?’”
“Oh, crap,” Cass and Rev say at the same time.
“What are we gonna do?” Rev asks. “They’re never gonna let us get on stage after we ran away. And they’ve probably told Junie’s aunt all about it. They might never let us see one another after this!”
“We’re screwed!” Cass says.
“We don’t know any of that for sure,” Shawna says. “Maybe they just came to hear us play?”
Rev and Cass both throw her flat looks.
“Yeah, we’re screwed,” Shawna says.
CASS CIRCLES AROUND THE BLOCK A COUPLE OF TIMES as soon as they get close to the club. They made it to Indianapolis with a half hour to spare, but now they have to face their parents.
“I’m never gonna be allowed to leave my room again,” Rev says.
“They’re gonna give me that look again,” Cass says.
“Stop it, both of you,” Shawna says. She’s trying to think and Rev and Cass’s constant talking is making it difficult. She can’t come up with any kind of plan. She can’t think
of any scenario in which they can sneak past their parents to play the gig first. It’s inevitable. “I think we’re just gonna have to do it,” she says. “Face the music.”
Rev forces a chuckle. “Band humor,” she says distantly.
Cass turns out of the loop she was driving in and pulls up to the club. The glowing blue neon sign declares it to be the Angry Whirlpool. In front of it is a line of three very familiar cars and five very familiar people. Rev’s mom is pacing, cell phone in hand, probably trying to call Rev. Shawna’s dads are holding one another, clearly distressed, along with Cass’s parents.
Cass parks the van across the street. Shawna’s Papa is the first to see it and points it out to the other parents. They crowd around, concern so palpable that the bandmates can feel it through the walls of the van. They take a deep breath together and Shawna steps out first.
She is immediately enveloped in a tight hug from both of her parents.
“Oh my God, oh my God, we were so worried about you, oh my God,” her Papa repeats over and over again. He sounds like he’s trying not to cry.
“Why did you do this? You could have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere!” her Dad says. She doesn’t think he expects a real answer.
“I’m sorry,” Shawna says, hugging them back. She’s beginning to cry, as well.
Rev steps out of the van next.
“Margaret! Oh, my god!” her mom says, “What the hell is wrong with you, child!” She pulls her already crying daughter into a hug and begins an emotion-fueled lecture.
On the driver’s side, Cass’s mother has broken down in tears upon seeing that her child is alive and Cass’s father is asking Cass every question he can think to ask about her well-being. Cass is already rolling her eyes. She gets concerned looks from her mother and concerned questions from her father every time she leaves her parents’ sight.
“Alright, alright, I’m fine!” Cass says, breaking into the tirade. “I survived a little road trip! Wow! Shocking!” She is stopped from making any more sarcastic comments by a lump in her throat. Her parents aren’t the best. Heck, at some level, they really suck as parents. They are overbearing and overprotective, believing Cass can’t do anything because of her disability, but Cass just wants a hug right now. A long, long hug. Then she can go back to being mad at them.
Rocky Road Page 8