by G. L. Argain
Andrew packed a week’s worth of clothes, expecting to drive into Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and back down into California. He took his toothbrush and toothpaste—he hated those single-use toothbrushes they had in hotels, and some of the hotels he was staying at didn’t offer them at all. He also packed some swimming trunks and his own towel in case he decided to stop by the beach in Oregon or California.
He would find his parents’ place in Idaho, who moved there after they wanted to leave Searles and especially California—too many gun laws were being passed in California for their comfort. He would stop by there as well as his grandparents’ house in Nevada.
Andrew notified his parents, his grandparents, and his friend Troy that he was on his way. His gas tank was full, his clothes were in the trunk, his wallet and phone were in his pockets, and the granola bars for snacks were in the back seat, so he was all set. As he filled up the gas tank the night before, he thought about gas prices: “Sheesh, the Iraq war has been over for more than four years and gas is still over four dollars a gallon. Either we can’t get our shit together in the Middle East or America decided to be a bit more like Europe.” As far as food went, he was afraid of gaining weight on the trip, concerning how he would be sitting down all day long and eating out several times during the week. The guy wasn’t fat—not too skinny either—but he wanted to make sure he never became overweight at all. So each morning, he would go on a run before taking a shower and heading off onto the road once more. It was half health-issue and half self-image that Andrew had in mind. Hypocritical, considering how he says to his peers that he doesn’t care about how he looks.
Andrew was primarily focused with getting out of the Los Angeles vicinity. Traffic was heavy, making Andrew move at ten minutes per mile, but once he could get onto Interstate 15 and through Cajon Pass, everything would be smooth sailing. It actually got boring about half an hour past Hesperia—partly because it was flat open desert for the next fifty miles. Plus, he had been along that stretch of road many times before. Next, there would be some mountains to drive through that would change the scenery.
After three and a half hours of driving, he made it to Searles. It still looked the same as it had always been: there was the factory, the desert heat, the salt pit, and of course the hundreds of people living there that wanted to be elsewhere. No wildflowers at all this time around—not enough rain during the winter.
Andrew drove around town to find the house of his old friend, Troy. There were still dogs running loose in the neighborhoods, kids hanging around by the liquor store, and tough-looking guys smoking cigarettes standing nearby. It’s not really that bad when you get used to the sight.
Troy was still living here in Searles, but he was in the military reserves and could be called up on any day. Many teenagers in Searles believed that the military would be a better way to go than working minimum wage at the factory. Troy was average in intelligence but an excellent athlete; he got to participate in the playoffs three out of the four years he was in high school. And yet he never got a scholarship. Andrew wasn’t sure whether Troy would go to college at some point or not, but it seemed he would get through life smoothly enough.
Troy was nice enough to let Andrew stay at his place for the night—for the price of twenty bucks. “Still cheaper than a motel,” Andrew said, “and probably cleaner too, I hope.”
“Yeah, I like to clean the house whenever someone’s dropping by for the night. Unless it’s some drunk guy—they don’t care, I think. Besides, I need the twenty bucks so I can catch up on my bills.”
Yeah, “bills.”
Andrew had this conversation with Troy the day before so that he didn’t visit Troy’s house without notice and say, “Can I crash here for the night?”
It didn’t occur to Andrew that Troy might have a girlfriend living there, who might have been displeased having someone she didn’t know staying at the house. Troy was always a ladies’ man—one of those guys who, although perverted, managed to hook up easily. He knew quite well how to be a gentleman, though, so that may have been part of his luck. He was also a drinker, so there was that to watch out for while staying at the house as well.
After ringing the doorbell and waiting a few seconds, Troy answered the door saying, “Hey! Long time, no see,” just like in the movies. Andrew replied, “Hey,” and walked into the living room with Troy. There was a girl sitting on the couch.
“Hey Leslie, this is Andrew—I told you a couple days ago he’s going to stay with us ‘til tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah, I heard you mentioning that.” She had a fake smile going on, and then it changed into a slight frown as she said, “Dammit Troy, tonight was supposed to be our special—”
“I know, I know,” said Troy, walking over to Leslie to whisper in her ear. Afterwards, he turned back to Andrew with a trace of guilt in his eyes, but mostly selfishness, saying, “Looks like you’ll have to sleep on the couch out here.”
Andrew looked down onto the couch and said, “Still better than a ratty motel.”
“That reminds me—do you have the twenty bucks?” Andrew handed a twenty-dollar bill to him as though he was at some motel, with Troy being the clerk.
Troy was six-foot-two, somewhat skinny, had brown hair with icy blue eyes, and pale white skin. During high school, he dressed up like one of those gangster wannabes that acted cool but never proved it; he had a cap, a jacket, some baggy jeans that hung below his hips, and some sneakers. Three of these four items would have skateboard logos and intricate designs on them—just a trend for teenage clothes during the 90’s and 2000’s, perhaps, but it sure marketed well. Today he kept the cap and the sneakers, but everything else looked more proper. He smoked a lot of marijuana with his buddies before he joined the military—after that he laid low for a while. He was smart enough to not risk getting caught from some random drug test. Most of all, he had this aura about him that made people guess he got into trouble often; however, he hadn’t been arrested once. Guess that just makes him lucky. Overall, Troy wasn’t much of a bad guy to at least visit for a day; Andrew did wish he had found someone a little better, but he knew it could have been far worse.
The reason why Andrew decided to stay at Troy’s place, rather than at someone else’s, was because he was the only guy he knew well enough that still lived in Searles. He couldn’t figure out why Troy stayed, but he seemed content enough with where he was at, so that makes Andrew lucky for finding him.
Upon first impression, Leslie looked like a bitch. Simple as that. One of those girls who looked attractive now, but would look very ugly by the time she was thirty-five. One of those who didn’t care too much about the guy’s personality, just as long as she could have a passionate one night stand. Even if she found a guy she seemed to like—such as Troy—she would call him “the one” for perhaps two weeks, then call him a “dumbass” or “fucktard” or any variety of indecent terms later on. This relationship looks like it’s in the second week. She had bright, long, wavy blond hair, a face plastered in makeup, shorts that went above the midpoint of her thighs, and a tank top.
“Well, it’s three now,” said Troy, “what d’you wanna do for the rest of the day?” Before Andrew had answered, Troy reached into a brown paper bag that was lying beside the couch, but out of Andrew’s sight, and said, “Wanna joint?”
“No thanks, man.”
“C’mon, it’s a special occasion, and you’ve got like.…the next eighteen hours before you’re driving again. Just one won’t hurt.”
“Yeah, but I really don’t want to take any chances. I really don’t want to get pulled over on this trip and have some highway patrol find out I’ve been using.”
“Aw, well, suit yourself.”
After a few seconds of silence, Andrew changed the subject: “So….anything new?”
“Nothing much. Just hangin’ out here with my girl.”
“How did you two meet?”
Leslie answered, “We met at a bar two weeks ago.”
/> And already the story sounds predictable, Andrew thought.
“He was smooth-talking me and he bought me a drink,” she continued. “I thought he was like every other guy I dated, who just wanted to have sex and leave, but then he opened all the doors for me, and told me afterwards how I was beautiful both on the inside and the outside, but the biggest part was that he stayed with me after that night and wanted to have a steady relationship! He’s both sexy and caring….”
Andrew had an urge to rub his forehead in disappointment and stupidity, but he knew best not to. Leslie and Troy would notice, thinking that he was insulting them by doing so. Troy wasn’t the type to lie to a girl like that, especially since they’re here together in front of Andrew’s eyes, but he was also never the type to have relationships much longer than a matter of weeks. Andrew had one relationship before, which it lasted for eight good months until his girlfriend had been killed in a car accident. After that, Andrew wasn’t too fond of love—he thought there were more important things to focus on in this world.
For the next few hours until midnight, Troy talked about his life after high school, Leslie talked about her life before and after moving to Searles—she definitely sounded like she would enjoy living in Miami, Florida better—and Andrew talked about going to college, getting through his job, and life in Pomona. A lot of time can be spent when people have conversations together. Troy, who had taken in a few beers at this point, said, “You know, you shouldn’t hafta spend yer life bein’ bored an’ miserable all da time. You should do whatcha love, have some fun, an’ if shit happens, hey, shit happens.” Andrew pondered this for a moment, thinking that there was some truth to those words, until Troy finished saying, “You only live once, so live it up.” Now Andrew was sure that Troy was talking about living to the fullest in a different way. A trend popped up when the two guys almost got out of high school, in which that phrase mostly meant partying, getting drunk, and whatever American culture was conveying as “YOLO.” He thought that trend had ended already. Leslie just giggled beside Troy with a beer in one hand and Troy’s hand in the other.
Andrew went to bed later than the couple did—he didn’t want to try to sleep through whatever business Troy and Leslie were doing in bed, so he took out his tablet computer, plugged in some headphones, and listened to some loud music for a good forty-five minutes. The loud music worked in a gray area, since he could hear the faint humping in the background while the volume of his music made his ears hurt a bit as he listened. The couple finished for the night, and Andrew fell asleep on the couch with some over-stimulated ears, still faintly hearing the noise in his mind. Well, fuck, thought Andrew, if this was a motel, then this is definitely as cheap of a stay as twenty dollars. I’ll actually be happy to be going to a real inn tomorrow night.
Andrew had one intense dream last night. It started off with him swimming in some black space—this void, it seemed like—but he felt as though there was life all around him. Next, he stopped and fell down to this red ground while feeling unreasonably scared once he landed. It didn’t appear to be hell, but there was blood and chaos everywhere. As he ran, colors ran past him in a blur as if he were in a time warp, but he looked down to his feet and saw he was running normally on the red soil. Lastly, he saw a demon in the distance that was killing everyone. The moment it turned its head to Andrew, it instantly appeared in front of him. This monster was so grotesque and terrifying that he could never describe it well enough. He saw the monster attack him, leaving an image of red and black right before waking up. His heart was racing and his eyes were wide open, but he was still lying down on the couch.
There was a long silence, with Andrew not talking nor thinking—he was too scared to want to do either. After about three minutes, he thought, Oh, God, that was scary. I haven’t had a nightmare like that in years. And why did I dream of it? Was it some warning for the future? Or maybe just some abstract representation of something happening to me now? Andrew was sitting up with his hands pressing down on the cushion to the rear of him, acting like support beams.
I need some water.
Andrew’s nightmare still appeared fresh and vivid in his mind as he went to the cabinet for a glass. The dreams that scare or please us are the ones that tend to stay in our memories for a long time. Sometimes it’s also the dreams where you want to distinguish between dream and reality. After an hour of being awake, he decided to go back to sleep, and this time there were no dreams at all.
Chapter 7
Andrew wakes up at ten-thirty in the morning when Troy rolls him off of the couch. Both Troy and Leslie were laughing while Andrew regained his consciousness with a hint of irritation.
“Ugh, seriously?”
“Oh, c’mon! It was funny! Besides, it’s like, past ten now,” said Leslie.
“What? Aw, dammit!” Andrew pushed himself quickly up to his feet, although his eyes had yet to adjust to the sunlight shining in. “Why didn’t either of you tell me earlier?”
“’Cause we just woke up too! Damn, why are you freaking out so much?” said Troy.
Andrew accepted the fact that he was late, although he was still stressed out about leaving so that he wouldn’t waste any more time. “I just wanted to wake up earlier so I could leave at eight o’clock. I especially wanted to get to Ely before nightfall.” Waking up this late would cause Andrew to leave by noon, thus arriving at Ely, Nevada, by roughly eight or nine at night.
“Well, sorry dude, but at least you can get ready and back on the road quickly, right?”
“Well, I’ve got to eat breakfast, brush my teeth, take a shower, call my parents and grandparents—”
“Alright, alright, I get it. There’s some cereal in the top left cabinet over there.”
“Okay,” said Andrew as he nodded his head.
He walked up to the cabinet and opened it to find some oatmeal, Cheerios, Lucky Charms, and Reese’s Puffs. He went for the Cheerios because it was quicker to make than the oatmeal, whereas sugar cereals tasted nasty to him. Some people lose their taste in sugar cereals later than others, he thought.
As Andrew was eating his cereal, Troy said, “So how’d you sleep last night? Me and Leslie sure slept well.” Leslie giggled in the background.
Andrew didn’t want to say anything about the dream, thinking that Troy wouldn’t know much more than he did, so he replied, “I woke up in the middle of the night and got a glass of water, but other than that, I slept fine.”
“Okay, cool.”
That dream still lingered with Andrew badly, and he decided that he should at least tell somebody.
“Actually, I did have this one nightmare last night. I fell down from this darkness, or void, or whatever, and I found myself in this.…sort of disaster, and was attacked by this giant, black, horrifying monster. I can’t describe much more than that.”
Troy’s eyebrows rose up a little. “Sounds like a bad trip.”
“The thing is though, it wasn’t a trip....it was just a dream, yet it was so vivid. I don’t really know what it means.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything, it could just be a dream, that’s all.”
There was that possibility. Andrew typically thought that dreams were these abstract ways of communicating what we really want—sometimes even visions of the future, also he couldn’t explain that. If anything, this nightmare was just a way for his subconscious to randomly scream out loud, with or without reason.
As Andrew packed his suitcase of clothes back into his car, Troy and Leslie went out with him to say goodbye.
Troy said, “Hey, thanks for visiting, Andy. Are you coming back here on the way down?”
“Sorry, but I’m heading along the coast on my way down. We may see each other in another couple years, though.”
“Alright, well, keep in touch.”
“Hey, Andy,” said Leslie, “you seem like the kind of guy that could get some decent girls, so why aren’t you? Are ya really afraid of another girl getting killed?” Andrew did s
ay last evening how he had one girlfriend and that she died in a car crash.
Troy had answered for him: “He never had much luck with girls—besides, he’s all for personality, not looks.”
Andrew added, “It’s more complicated than that, but yeah, I’ve always been that way. Anyway, thanks for letting me stay at your place.” For a fraction of a second, Andrew thought about saying something funny and clever, yet this came out of his mouth: “Don’t get into any fights now!”
Leslie said with suspicion, “What d’ya mean by that?”
Andrew had a hint of fear, thinking he shouldn’t have said that last part. “I….just meant that you two are a good couple.”
Once suspicion entered Leslie’s mind, she would not let it go easily. “Okay, if you’re just trying to bullshit me, then you’ve got another thing coming—”
“Babe, he’s telling the truth,” said Troy, trying to keep down unnecessary conflict. “He’s a nice guy. Can’t you tell?”
“Well, if that’s true, then what does that make you and I?”
Andrew wanted to leave already, so he started up the car and said, “I can’t get into this, I really have to go already.”
“Fine, whatever,” said Leslie, who had her conflict now focused onto Troy.
“See you later, Troy!” Andrew had left the street saying this, leaving Leslie and Troy in an argument in front of the house. He felt somewhat guilty and selfish, but he really didn’t want to get caught into the crossfire.
“So, what do you think of me? Do you think we could have a long-lasting relationship like Andy did?” Leslie had her arms crossed and her stare fixed onto Troy in order to look for any subtleties.
“Well, he wanted a really nice girl and nothing more, while we….um.…” Troy had a hard time trying to say the next part safely, but he already made the mistake of hesitating.