* Writing it I get the thrill of creating a world, and for a short time live in it, among the characters in my novels.
* Secondly, I get feedback from the readers of the story. I love to get feedback, email me every day if you like and let me know what you think.
Foreword
I had thought perhaps for a while that I would start a story on the 20th, and write to Nov 1st. Then on the 1st decide if I would continue that story, or start a new one for NaNoWriMo. Driving to work this morning, I was thinking of plot ideas. Would I write Sci-Fi, that's my background, where I find my mind wandering when the inspiration of Walter Mitty comes. A thousand story ideas came to mind and were dismissed. Too much like a story I once read, too worn out a concept, too generic. Well, finally an idea came to mind, a strong opening to a story, heartache, and desperation. Yes, the story crawled through my mind, feeding on ideas, growing stronger, until it was aware of itself. This year, like the others, I have the begining, that wants to write itself. The details you will find below.
Mark Balliet
Meandering through the woods, Eric suddently remembered his name. For days now, he had been walking in the woods, trying to figure out where he was, trying to remember who he was. Caked with mud, his shoes and socks, looked more like boots. His mouth was dry, and he was hungry. Vaguely he remembered eating some berries from a bush recently, but he couldn't remember how long it had been since then.
"Eric" the name echoed in his mind as he spoke it aloud. He tried to remember why he was out in the woods, why he was so far from civilization. Something whispering in the back of his mind told him he would be better off not knowing.
Tripping over a root, he stumbled and grabbed ahold of a tree branch. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. Whispering his name to himself he looked around the dense trees, trying to guess where he might be. The ground sloped uphill, and he had been heading that way, hoping that he could find a break in the trees to see if he could get his bearings.
He heard a stream in the distance, and his thirst came fully to mind. Almost instinctually he started walking towards the stream, driven more by need than by thought. He found the stream, and tasted the water, it was cool and clear. He drank his fill, hoping the water was as clean as it tasted. In the water he washed the mud off of his white sneakers, it probably didn't matter.
After resting for a moment, he stood back up again, and followed the stream upwards, towards the top of the hill. The ground became rockier, and steeper the further he went. Relieved he saw the trees ahead begin to thin out, he found some berries, raspberries or something similar, and tasted one. Blackberries, the taste brought back childhood memories of eating them with cream and sugar. Ignoring the sudden return of his childhood he ate. He picked the bush clean, stuffing the berries into his mouth, as the branches caught and tore at his clothes and skin. With the bush now bare, he continued along the stream, not nearly as hungry as he had been.
Another hour, two hours, day? He had lost track of time, it could have been only fifteen minutes, time no longer seemed to be passing. The dim light that filtered through the trees was still as light as he remembered it being when he drank from the stream. Ahead he saw grass, bright green, and broke into a run. The clearing opened up around him, as he blinked into the bright light. It was noon, the sun almost directly overhead. Still running, and then walking as he tired, he continued through the clearing, the far end was rocky, and extremely steep. Too get up to the top he would have to climb the jagged rocks that reached towards the sky. He walked to the stones, and grabbed onto them, His strength was failing, but he pulled himself up about twenty feet to a ledge before he stopped to rest.
As he looked out over the mountain side, he saw only trees. The forest around him was quiet, and the sound of his heart poinding and his lungs gasping seemed louder because of it.
He peered into the distance, the ground fell away from him towards a flat valley, and back up towards the hills further away. Looking like crisp stalks of broccoli, the trees covered the hillside, giving him no clue about where he was.
He was Eric, he had a childhood, and a black gap between those facts and his recent memories of wandering through the forest. He cried for a moment, he would probably die out here. Yet the tears seemed stronger than just hoplessness. He was crying for something else, something that he couldn't remember.
The sky was bright blue, and the sun shined on him, contrasting the dark storm in the back of his mind that he couldn't, or wouldn't remember. He scoured the clearing for berries, and went back to the stream for water. It was soon dusk, but he was full, and was no longer thirsty. His eyes stung.
As night fell, he searched the sky again, nothing. He had almost given up to huddle in a small nook and sleep for the night, when he noticed a red blinking light in the far distance. It blinked at him off across the other mountain, barely standing out above the tops of the trees on the next mountain.
He almost walked down the side of the hill, towards the light, but lack of light, and exhaustion intervened, and he huddled next to a fallen tree and slept.
He slept hard, and soundly, and was awakened abruptly as the sun inched above the trees into his eyes. He struggled to his feet, it was cold, and his clothes were damp from the morning dew. He shivvered, looking through his pockets as he had yesterday. Keys, with a small dead flashlight on the loop. He had a twenty, crumpled up and now damp. He sighed again, thinking that at least a wallet would have let him know who he was. Still, he would be out in the mountains, trying to find civilization.
That day he walked, trying to keep as direct a path towards the light over the next Mountain. He reached the valley, and crossed a stream, noting that the sun was far to the west. His feet were sore, and sweaty, his legs ached. Scratches and cuts bled from his right arm where he had crashed into a tree after stumbling down a steep slope. He was glad he had not broken his arm, though it was turning an angry shade of purple.
He sat by the stream for a while, watching as the sky reddened, crossing over the western horizon, into the waiting clouds. He jumped to his feet, they ached, angry and sore as he again began to walk uphill towards the trees, and the light. For a while he walked, until it was dark, and he couldn't see obstacles in his way. He fell to the ground tripping over a root and lay there, no ambition to stand. Feeling around he found a bush, curled his knees up to his chest, and passed out.
Gradually the trees began to thin, and he finally came out of the woods into a small clearing in the trees. He looked towards the mountain he had been on two days ago, and thought he might be able to make out the clearing he had found. Then again, he was exhausted, and several times that affernoon had halucinated animals in the forest. He worried that this would be the end, even if he could feed and water himself, how long would it be until some bad berries, water, or just exposure drove him to the ground, never to walk again. Would anyone miss him? He concentrated, but couldn't remember an answer.
As night was falling, and he pushed himself through the trees, the ground stopped sloping upwards, and gently turned down. The wind picked, up, and to keep himself warm he pulled a number of branches from surrounding trees, and built a shelter between two fallen trees. Since many days ago, he slept warm, and comfortable on the small nook he created for himself.
(Updated 10-21-2004)
The next morning was cool, but Eric didn't awake as drained as he had previously. He shrugged off his morning sleepyness, and looked around. He couldn't see past the trees yet, but he had reached the top of the mountain, he need only go down from here, and see if he could locate a clearing, and get his bearings. A lighted tower meant people, and people meant he wouldn't be lost in the forest anymore.
Slowly he made his way down the mountain side, his throbing bruised arm cautioning him to the dangers of rushing down through the trees like a pinball. After several hours of carefully making his way down the side of the mountain, he came across a cliff. Dropping over 40 feet, this shelf of rock provided him an overlook where he could survey the area.
"Damnit, I'm off course." he sighed to himself, picking out a slim metal tower from the surrounding trees. "It could be worse though." he admitted to himself. At least he would be able to travel parallel to the cliff for a while as he wound his way towards the antenna. He started walking, trying to mentally keep track a picture of where the antenna was.
As he was walking, he started to remember more, he remembered when he was in higschool, his friends laughing at him because he had married his sweetheart. He had been the only senior who was married, and he had worn that fact proudly dispite the mocking of his friends. Many fights he had gotten into, and been beat up defending her honor. He still didn't remember her name, but he could picture her golden hair, and her smile. Overwelmed by emotion he didn't understand the origin of he dropped to his knees crying. Instinctively he grabbed onto a tree to keep from falling over the cliff as the rocks below his knees rolled. Even facing a drop over the cliff he couldn't stop the tears. Why such happy memories should make him so sad, he couldn't understand.
When he finally pulled himself together, he continued onwards, the sting of salt on his cheeks. He tried to call to his mind the picture of this girl that meant so much to him, but the spot in his memory where she had been was blank, like the rest of his mind. "Eric, I'm Eric, and nothing more." he whispered softly, as he plodded his way through the trees.
The forest around him was quiet, as if the blackness in his memories had escaped, and stolen the life from the forest. Occasionally he sensed movement, but nothing he could focus on quickly enough to see what it was. "Assuming it's more than my imagination" he frowned.
The green glow from the tress began to grow dimmer, night was coming, and the sun was setting. Maybe once it was dark, he would be able to find a clearing and spot the antenna. Even after the night fell, he stumbled his way through the trees, looking upwards hoping to catch even the tiniest glimpse of the red light in the sky.
He found it, just moments before he smashed into a chain link fence around the tower. The sign on the fence caught at his shirt and ripped it as he fell to the ground. After a dazed moment, he struggled to his feet, clawing onto the fence to heave himself off the ground. He stared at the small metal shed, wires running from it, drooping like a smile, and then running up the antenna. An array of solar pannels inside the fence presumable supplied power to the antenna. There were no people here, just a pair of small parallel dirt paths leading off into the woods, tire tracks.
Emotionally exhausted, he huddled up between the fence and some bushes that had grown against it. He had nightmares that night, and woke up before sunrise in a cold sweat. For a moment he remembered the horrible scenes in his mind, but in seconds they vanished and couldn't be recalled. His cheeks stun again, he had been crying as well.
As the sun rose in the sky, and light touched the ground around the antenna, Eric began to look around. Surrounding the antenna, solar pannels, and shed was a sturdy chain link fence, about seven feet tall. It was about thirty feet wide, and twentyfive feet long. The gate to the fence was securely wrapped with chain, and padlocked. The top of the fence was not barbed, he could climb the fence. Maybe there was a radio inside.
Disrupting his plans to climb the fence, his stomach rumbled. He spent a while gathering every edible plant he could find, mostly berries again. He was sick of berries, but his hungry stomach wanted them. He ate his fill, and gathered the rest into a sleve of his shirt he ripped off.
Tossing the berries over the fence first, he grabbed onto the chainlink and pulled himself up. Shaking, his mucles protested the climb, but followed the directions they were given. He reached the top of the fence, breathed for a moment, and climbed over. Gravity had it's way with him, and his carefull climb became a hard fall to the ground, which knocked the air out of his lungs. He gasped for breath and tried to stand, but for the moment wasn't able to as he gasped like drowning.
Finally his breath returned to him, and he stood up. The berries had been hit during his fall, but not entirely smashed. He swore quietly to himself when he realized this. He walked towards the shed, limping slightly. Swearing again Eric realized he had slightly twisted his ankle. It wasn't bad, just sore, brused most likely. He walked quietly to the door of the shed, and pulled on it. It creeked slightly, and stuck. After several pulls he sighed to himself, slid the lock out of the latch, and opened the door.
Adjusting the to the darkness, Eric saw that the small shed was full of equipment. A switch by the door turned on several small dim lights, revealing the area. On the right side of the door stood a shelf of batteries wired together. Backup power for when the sun went down, to keep the light working, and a signal transmitting. A weather station, that's what this was, Eric thought. This small small station setup in the middle of the forest, probably relayed it's information back to another station further away, or an office. He watched the guages on the instruments, temperature, wind direction, humidity, air pressure. They moved slightly, as the wind picked up, or as the clouds gathering in the sky blocked the sun, or released it.
Eric clapped his hands, this wasn't as good as a McDonalds on the side of the road, or a ranger station, but he could get someone's attention. Sitting down on a small chest on the floor he looked around the equipment, tracing the cords back to what he was looking for. Click!. He turned off the main circuit breaker, and the station went dark. He laughed, this station was now as dark as his memory. Hopefully someone would care, and come to find out why.
He went outside and hung what was left of his shirt on the fence, it was mostly brown now, but would let anyone know that he was there. He felt like he had been drained of all energy, he was shaking slightly as he lay down to rest. He drifted to sleep, only to quickly wake up drenched in sweat. He nibbled some more at the berries in his shirt, and fell asleep again.
A bright flash of light woke him up, at first he thought it must be the headlight of a car. He sat up, listening to the rumble outside the shed. Although it initially sounded like the rumble of a motor, another flash, and the crash of thunder, betrayed it's true nature. He stepped outside, into the downpour. The cool rain, quickly drenching him. As he stropped, he wrung out his cloathes, let them soak again, and wrung them out again. Finally he tossed his cloathes into the shed, and stood in the rain, the cool evening rain washing away his acumulated funk.
Before the rain chilled him too much, he went back inside, wrung out his cloathing a second time, and hung them. He held the berries and smally sleve outside the door, and washed them, the crushed berries winding trails of color down the cloth. Finally the berries and the sleve were as clean as he could easily make them. He set the berries on an empty battery shelf, and put his sleve up to dry. He sat quietly, singing childhood songs to himself as he dripped dry, shaking. Finally he fell asleep again.
Sleep passed quickly and quietly, he did not dream. He stretched, kicking the battery shelf, and banging his knuckles on the equipment. He stumbled to his feet, it was warm in the shed, the morning sun had already been out long enough to heat the metal roof. Checking his clothes he found much was dry, except his pants, which were still slightly wet. He put on his dingy underwear, discolored blue shirt, brown but had once been white socks, and his shoes. His pants he took outside to hang on the fence to finish drying. He gathered the berries again into his shirt sleve, and put them back on the shelf.
A couple days passed, no sign of anyone coming to investigate the offline station. Eric grew tired of waiting, and decided that the tire ruts through the forest were his best route back to civilization. He had stripped some spare wire from the station's electronics, and turned his sleve into a makeshift backpack. He had gathered up quite a few berries, and some round fruit from some of the trees in the area. Tasting it carefully, he had decided if it were bad for him, at least it wouldn't kill him imediately.
He climbed easily over the fence, and jumped to the ground, having had practice over the last few days. With a quick gait, he walked on down the road, towards the unknown. The going was easier, the branches along the road were high enough he didn't need to duck under them, and he made good time. Above him, he could occasionally catch a glimpse of sky, and could gage the progress of the day. He walked quite far, singing songs to himself, and almost cherrily set up a shelter, and slept for the night.
Shivering he awoke, the night had become cold, and morning's light had pulled him from his sleep. Sore, he found he was huddled up, knees to his chin, and branches from the neaby brush pulled to his body. Slowly he warmed up and was again heading down the road, the effort from walking pumped warm blood through his body. After lunch he found some new berries, bright red, and smelling strongly. He bit one, and let the fruit sit in his mouth for a while. It tasted good, and he swallowed one of the berries. After feeling no ill effects, he started eating more of the berries until he was full.
After a while he began to feel strange, disconnected from the world. Music floated in his head and he started singing nonsense tunes, making up words to rhyme with the disjointed melody. He smiled to himself and laughed, as he stomped his feet down the road, adding percussion to the melody. This feeling lasted for a while, and gradually faded, leaving him feeling slow and stiff. Poisoned berries, he questioned himself? No, that many would have killed him. Perhaps there was something on or in the berries that made him feel so odd. He didn't mind, for a while he had been pulled away from the dark feelings in the darkened forgotten corners of his mind.
The shallow tire ruts stopped ahead of him, or rather turned in two directions, ending, and becoming part of a road intersecting this one. Scratching his head, he looked at both directions. Which one would take him where he wanted to go? Which would take him back into the woods to another station. The tracks contained little clue as to which route was preferable, and finally he decided that the right hand route looked slightly more worn down. This could indicate more frequent travel, a road in common to two or more stations.
He continued on down the road, and only stopped once to pick some more of the bright red berries he found. Soon after he was singing crazy songs, and skipping down the road. The sky above grew very dark, and soon it began to drizzle.
Eric continued on in the darkness and rain until suddenly he realized he was airborn, he crashed into the brush, pain flashing over his body like lightning and fire intertwined. He lay on the ground, barely breathing, everything hurt, and his mouth tasted metallic. Headlights bathed him in a brilliant light, and shadows moved towards him. He whimpered to himself, as the pain, and the light flooded over him. Through the pain a darkeness escaped from the back of his brain, he remembered. Oh god! How could he ever forget, they're gone! The pain from his body vanished, in an instant overshadowed by the raw bloody agony of his soul. "I'm dying," he whispered, "Please let me die." He tried to speak that louder at the shadows in the light, but the darkness ceased him, and pulled him under. In that moment, his torment was relived a thousand times. The cold darkness, the stillness in his chest, were welcome blessings.
(Updated 10-22-2004)
Eric whispered inaudibly "If only I could have been there it would have been different, at least I could have died with them".
As his eyes closed, the last weeks of his life flashed through his mind.
Eric had gone to visit an old highschool buddy. For ten years, they had gone their seperate way, until one daty in Eric's email a message showed up. "Are you the Eric I knew in Highschool?" the message had read. Eric almost threw out the email, thinking it might be a scam, no Nigerian dictator was going to steal his money. Fortunately his curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it. In the email was a short message from his friend Leon.
If this makes no sense to you, you're not the right Eric, I apologize.
Eric, this is Leon. Remember all the crazy shit we did in highschool? Wow, it's been a long time, but I still feel crazy when I remember those days. Hopefully this is the right email. Write back to me asap!
Leon from school.
That email had prompted a flood of "Remember when we..." and "Have you talked to..." emails back and forth for a few weeks. Eric's wife Sara, started emailing Leon as well, recalling great highschool memories. Leon remembered that crazy day when Eric and Sara had skipped their last two classes to run down to the court house, and get married. It was Sara's 18th birthday, they'd had it planned for weeks, but Leon didn't think they were crazy enough to get married while they were still in school. Leon was wrong.
Leon wrote how he remembered that day, just after the last bell of the day rang, they heard a clatter comming from the parking lot. Leon rushed out to find Eric and Sara in the parking lot. Eric's Pontiac had about 40 cans strung up behind it that had made all the noise. Eric and Sara were making out in the front seat, and Leon had to knock on the window to get their attention.
"You crazy bastard, you did it?"
Eric and Sara held up their hands, thin silver bands were on their ring finger, and they gestured with them in Leon's direction. "As the sign on the bumper says, Just Married" Sara smiled and kissed Eric again.
"Crazy, just crazy." Leon shook his head. "You got plans tonight?"
"Only plans for later tonight, if you understand."
"It's friday night, and yo have no plans. Hold on." Leon smirked.
"Hey everyone!" Leon yelled at the crowd gathered looking at the car. The crowd quieted enough to hear what he had to say. "These two fools just got married. 18 and hitched already. Don't know what got into their minds, but they did it." The crowd laughed. "So!" Leon again yelled, "How about we throw them a party, anyone got any ideas?"
Lots of people did, but it turned out that their buddy Ron had the best idea. His parents were out of town, and he was home alone. More importantly, Ron had a huge back yard where parties were regularly held when his parents were away. About fifty cars followed Eric and Sara to Ron's house. Driving down the road, the convoy had flashed it's lights, and honked it's horn. Soon they had a huge fire going in the back yard, and beer appeared. Late into the night that party had run.
Eric smiled as he read the latest email from Leon, he remembered the party, but some of the details were fuzzy. Someone had found, stolen or borrowed a bottle of champaigne. They popped the cork, and one of their drunk friends caught it in the forehead. After the laughter died down, a glass was poured for Sara and Eric, they drank it promptly, and the glass refilled. Eric invited his three best friends, one of who was Leon, to drink some as well. Sara's three best friends, were invited as well. That was as close as they had gotten to a wedding party.
Eric smiled, reading over the emails he had recieved, those had been some of the best days of his life.
Time flew after higschool, Eric and Sara had lived with Sara's mom for a while, and Eric had gotten a job at a local lumber yard. A few years later he got a better paying job, and they moved out. Eric lost that job, and together they moved into a house with several friends. In all there were 6 people living in the house, Eric and Sara, Sue and Paul, and Darren and Cody. Darren and Cody insisted they were just roomates, but everyone in the house knew they were gay, it was obvious.
Eric found another job, a well paying job at a local factory. Nine months after that night's celebration, their son Kyle was born.
Eric had lost touch with Leon after highschool, Leon went to college
(Updated 10-25-2004)
... and when he graduated moved across the country for a great job. That graduation party had been the last time he had seen Leon for those ten years before the email.
Eric smiled, he was still together with Sara, he had a little boy, who was almost 6 now. Leon had written that he had met, married and already divorced some girl he had met in the city. He may not have the most successfull life, but he was happy.
Two months after recieving the first email from Leon, Eric lost his job, he was distressed at this, but knew he had enough in the bank to minimally get by for almost a month. For two weeks, he interviewed, and applied, and waited. Thirty six intervies, and thirty five 'No Thanks' the thirty sixth company, a plant being built in a nearby town, hadn't yet determined who they were hiring.
He remembered that interview clearly, it had been in a trailer in the front of a mostly completed plant. The recruiter he interviewed with didn't even work for the company, they were just handling the interviews. Eric cleaned up nicely, and presented a confident attitude, when he walked in. He waited for over an hour for the interviewer to finish with the previous interview.
Tall and serious, a business woman stepped out of the office, "Thanks for coming in Jim, we should no something by monday."
"Hi, I'm Linda."
(Updated 10-26-2004)
... she said as she turned away from the man who stepped out of the office, and turned towards Eric. Automatically she held out her hand to Eric, and smiled a corporate smile. Eric returned the smile with a more genuine smile, and took her hand firmly.
"Nice to meet you Linda, I'm Eric" Eric confidently spouted.
"Pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry that took longer than I expected." She apologized.
"That's perfectly alright." Jim acknowledged.
The interview was long, Linda asked the same questions Eric had been answering all week. Eric patiently answered the stock questions, with answere he had rehearsed all week. Although familliar with the questions, Eric tried to sound like each question was important to him.
Finally, Linda smiled, looking over the notes she had taken of Eric. "I need to call your contacts, but assuming everything checks out, could you start at the begining of August?"
Eric almost jumped out of the chair, this job had been a long shot, paying more than he expected to make, more than he had been making. "I definately can." he answered.
"Great, we'll call your references, and will get back to you by monday, I expect the answer will be Yes." Linda smiled, the first non plastic emotion he had seen from her the entire interview.
Eric filled out some of the initial paperwork, and then happily drove home. He knew his references were good, his old boss almost had tears in his eyes having to let Eric go. Eric was a hard worker, and it paid off he had found.
By the time Eric had returned home, there was a message from Linda, his references had checked out, and he would be starting August 6th.
Because Eric was watching his money, Darren and Cody offered to take him and Sara out for dinner in celebration. Eric initially refused, but "no" was not an acceptable answer, Darren insisted.
After a beautiful dinner at a little itallian restaurant two towns over, Eric came home and checked email.
Leon had written.
Eric, heard you had an interview today, hope it goes well. My hopes are with you.
Leon went to tell about his week, how he had mostly through luck brought in a huge sale for his company. Saddly, his car had been in a fender bender, and insurance would take a couple weeks to repair the damage. Leon then wrote a sulky paragraph about not having anyone for himself, and how lucky Eric had been to find Sara.
Eric wrote back.
Leon, the interview went well. I was almost offered the job at the end of the interview, except for the formality of background checks. By the time I got home, I was hired. I start on August 6th making about ten thousand more a year.
Good going on that deal, seems to be a lucky day for both of us. Sorry to hear about your car, was it your nice convertable, or your daily commute Honda?
This is going to be an interesting couple weeks, I get an un-planned vacation.
Eric sent the email and started undressing for bed. Within moments his computer beeped, signaling he had a new email. Curiously, he checked the screen, Leon had sent back a quick question.
Couple weeks of eh? If you've got enough money for gas out here, I can feed you and pay for you r gas back, I know you'd do the same. I've got vacation time coming too, come out and visit for a while.
Eric pondered for a moment, Leon was about 8 hours away. Two tanks of gas, give or take to get out there, and a chance to see an old friend. He could stay a couple days, and come home with plenty of time to spare before the new job. "I'll ask Sara in the morning." he quickly emailed back.
He debated spending the money, taking advantage of a friend's hospitality. This was Leon though, his old friend, they'd been through so much as kids. If Leon wanted him to come, and it didn't impose too much on Sara to take care of Kyle for a few days alone, he would go.
In the morning he woke up well after Sara had gotten up. He stumbled out of bed and found her downstairs at the kitchen table nursing a latte with Darren, waiting for the caffine to wake her up.
"Hey Eric, didn't think you were getting up this morning, your first chance to sleep in for a while."
"I wanted to ask you something."
"Oh?" she asked suspisciously.
"I sent Leon a message last night about the job. He wrote back right away, and asked if I could come out to visit for a few days." Eric asked sleepily.
"Sure, why not?" Sara asked.
"I wanted to ask you first, you'd have to take care of Kyle alone. He did offer to feed me though, and pay my gas back. It'd help stretch savings a little."
"Go, visit your friend, tell him I say hi." Sara requested.
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. When would you be going?"
"In a couple days. I haven't discussed dates with Leon yet."
"Ok, let me know when you have an idea." she suggested.
Eric emailed Leon back, the earliest he could request a day off was Friday, that would give Eric 3 days to get ready, and pack.
Those three days came and went, and Eric found himself on the road traveling to Leon's place. The 8 hour drive turned into ten with breaks, and he found himself knocking at Leon's door around midnight.
Leon answered the door "About time." he said, slugging Eric in the shoulder.
"I kept turning back, scared of your ugly face." Eric countered.
That night went quickly, they sat on the balcony of Leon's 4th floor appartment, and watched the traffic in the city. They drank and talked, and as daylight began to betray the night, finally stumbled into the house, and went to sleep.
Morning for them came at about 2:30 in the afternoon, as bright sun started to glare into the western windows.
Leon took Eric out on the town, to all the famous landmarks.
Eric felt like he was a teenager again, he and Leon tore up the town, partying at the clubs, staying out all night.
By the end of the first week together, Leon had decided that nothing this fun should end so soon, and took another 5 days off of work. Eric agreed to stay through the 4th of July to see the fireworks, and then drive home on the fifth, or maybe sixth, depending on the hangover.
The second week came and went as quickly as the first, and in a blaze of firework glory, ended abruptly.
As Eric was walking back to his car, Leon said "We need to do this more, I haven't felt this alive in years."
"I don't know if my head can take two weeks straight of this kind of fun anymore. But, damn was this a great week" Eric smiled, slapping Leon on the back.
As Eric started the car, his heart was torn, he wanted to spend more time with Leon, yet he was very very much missing Sara, as he had told her when he spoke to her on the phone. "Whipped" was what Leon called it, but Eric didn't think so.
Eric pulled off down the block, stopped at the stoplight, and when the light turned green, he pressed the accelerator. The car responded with dead silence, as the engine stopped.
"Damnit!" Eric yelled at his blue Ford. Angrily he shifted into park, and turned the key, the engine spun, but didn't catch. There was no runble, just the eery sound of spinning metal.
Nearly jumping out of his seat, and through the roof, Eric looked over at the knock on the window. Leon had still been outside and heard Eric trying to start the engine.
Eric leaned over and rolled down the window. "Damn thing's just spining, no oomph" Eric explaimed.
"Let's push it into a space, and we can take a look at it." Leon suggested. After staring at the motor for ten minutes, Eric realized that neither of them really knew what they were looking at.
"Want a beer?" Leon said, suddenly thirsty for the frothy bubbles.
"Damn right," Eric frowned, "If we're staring under the hood like mechanics, we need a beer. I think it's a law."
Leon started off upstairs "Don't want to be breaking the law, do we."
The beer did much to calm Eric's nerves, but little to repair the car. They checked anything they recognized, battery, oil, and stared curiously at the rest of the parts wondering what had broken. An hour and two beers later, Eric announced "Damned if I know, looks good."
Leon questioned "Why doesn't it start then?"
Eric shrugged "Bad mojo."
"Mechanic?" Leon asked.
"I think so" Eric shook his head.
Eric watched as his car was hoisted onto the back of the tow truck, and carried off. He called Sara on Leon's cell phone, and let her know he would be delayed for a while.
"Thirteen Hundred Dollars?" Eric almost screamed into the phone as he turned first red, then white. He nodded several times, and said "Uh, huh." Then he said "Ok, I'll see what I can do." and hung up the phone.
Leon cautiously asked "What's wrong with it?"
"Timing belt went, they do that after a hundred thousand miles he said."
"Yeah, I've known people that happened to. Thirteen Hundred to fix that?"
"No, he said he could fix it for eight, but there's other stuff in there that's going to go, and its cheaper to do it all at once, rather than going back in. He said he'd do it for eight, but wouldn't feel good about it."
Eric spent the next hour on the phone talking to Sara. Thier remaining savings was about fivehundred. Their roomates said they couldn't help out at the moment, but in a week or so they might be able to.
Leon offered to Eric "I can loan you the money, or you're welcome to stay with me until you can get it."
"Let me try to get the money together, if it doesn't work, I'll take the loan and be out of your hair by this weekend."
"No rush, it's great having you around, you're welcome to stay as long as it takes. The offer's good as long as you need it as well."
It turned out that it took three weeks to put together the money, and in the end Eric borrowed two hundred from Leon as well. Finally by august third the car again ran, and had various new parts to make sure it stayed that way.
Eric was glad to leave Leon's place. He'd felt welcome, and never got the impression he was being a burden from Leon, but it was good to be able to go back home and see Sara and Kyle.
The drive home was long, and uneventfull. Eric was road grogy by the time he pulled into his driveway.
He climbed the front stairs onto the porch of the two story house, and noticed the door. It was open. No! It had been broken, the frame was splintered, and the glass cracked. Quickly, he pushed open the door, and glanced inside. It was dark, the only light was coming from an emergency flashlight that charged when plugged in. Looking around he frutlessly willed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Without thinking he was across the room, flashlight in hand. A chair was on the floor in the corner of a room, it's leg broken. Listening intently, Eric froze to the spot. Only the quiet ticking of the hallway clock could be heard.
He quickly moved towards the basement stair, pushed the door open, and started down the stairs, playing the light behind him. Something on the stairs tripped him, he stumbled down 4 steps, and slid down another few until he was able to get his footing again. He flashed the light at the stairs. "Darren!" Eric yelled uncontrolled. He reached out to find out why his friend was lying on the stairs in the dark. He drew his hand away as if the gunshoot wound to Darren's head had just gone through his hand. "No!" he yelled, jumping down the remaining steps to the basement floor. He flew over to the circuit breaker. The switches had all been turned off. Faster than he realized what was happening, he turned the breakers on.
Voices, upstairs. He almost froze to listen carefully, before he darted up the stairs, stopping at Darren's body to put his hand to his bare neck. He was still warm, but obviously not breathing. "Sara!" "Kyle!" he screamed, jumping over the body.
In the kitchen, he found Cody, he was sitting on the chair slumped back, shot through the chest, and in the head. Dispite his rapid pace of running through the house, Eric memorized every detail of what he saw. It was if the images were being burned into his mind. The back door was locked when he pulled on the knob. He paused for a moment to pick the phone off the wall, and dial 911, as he dropped it to the floor.
In the front room he found Sue and Paul, gagged, and tied back to back. It looked like a single gunshot to the head had killed both.
"SaraKyle!" He screamed, the names becoming a plea of desperation, becoming one goal. Racing upstairs, he found them on the floor of the bedroom. He was still rocking on the floor holding onto their dead bodies when the Sheriff arrived.
"Don't move!" yelled the athletic officer, but Eric didn't hear him. The officer looked closer "Eric? What happened?" the officer asked? Eric still didn't hear him, he was lost in his own personal darkness. He didn't come back to reality when the two officers pried Kyle and Sara from his arms. When two officers carried him to the police car, and then again into the police station, he didn't move. When he did finally come to at the police station, when the light slowly seeped back into his brain, and reality connected. For almost ten minutes he screamed, pounding on the cement walls of the police station until he fell to the floor, sobbing, his entire body shaking. The police took him into one of the cells, where a kind officer sat and talked to him, but he didn't stop crying until sheer exhaustion forced him to sleep.
He awoke crying in the morning, and stumbled to the door of the cell, it was open, and he pushed through it, more aware of what was going on than he had been in the morning.
"Eric." the Sheriff stood up from his desk. "God." he paused, not sure what to say.
"Gone." Eric whispered, his throat raw from screaming an crying.
"I'm sorry, Eric." the Sheriff reached out to him.
Slowly the Sheriff talked to Eric and calmed him, by afternoon, Eric had told the entire story, of arriving home. Every detail that he remembered cut his soul, and the blood of his soul ran out his eyes as tears.
"Do you need to get anything from the house? We'll put you up for the night at a Hotel."
Eric shrugged, "Nothing left back there worth anything. I should get my car, and clothes."
"Fine." the sheriff said saddly. "I'll get someone to take you by the house, an get your things."
A young deputy drove Eric back to the house. Quietly he asked Eric "Do you want me to come with?"
"No, I'll go alone." Eric answered, slowly entering the house.
He walked through the house, the bodies had been removed, but the stains from the blood were still on the furnature, and the floor. He shook as he entered the bedroom where he had seen Sara and Kyle dead, where white lines traced their last existance.
Numbly he got his clothes from the closet. He packed them into the first bag he found, and quickly left the room. He headed back downstairs, and called to the officer at the door. "I need to get something out back." The darkness in his mind was threatening to swallow him again, and he needed to be alone for a moment.
"Ok." the officer silently answered.
Eric left through the back door, and walked towards the garage. As the darkness swallowed him whole he walked past the garage, into the corn field, headed directly for the hills in the distance.
It wasn't until Eric was airborn, the life draining from him after being hit by the car on the road in the forest, that Eric wondered how long the officer had stood there before realizing Eric wasn't comming back.
(Updated 10-27-2004)
Bright light glared into Eric's face, and he jerked back to life. His heart started racing, and he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Quickly he was on his feet looking around, trying to make sense of where he was. It was very bright, and his eyes were still hazy from sleep. He closed his eyes momentarily, and opened them again.
He was in a white room, a chair across from the bed he was sleeping in. No, wait, it wasn't a bed, it was a couch. He sat down, pushing the couch against the wall with a loud thud. As his mind slowly cleared, he heard a knock on the door.
"Come in." Eric said still dazed.
The door opened, and a familliar figure stepped into the room from the darkened hallway. It was Leon. Leon? What was he doing here? Realization crept back into Eric's head, and he realized this was Leon's spare bedroom, the couch he'd slept on for those days when he had stayed here, before returning home. His head spun, remembering what had happened, if he hadn't been sitting, he would have fallen.
"You ok?" Leon asked.
"I should be dead." Eric mumbled.
"I know what you mean, I've got a wicked hangover too. My head's still pounding from all the drinks, and the fireworks."
"Fireworks?" Eric questioned.
"Don't you remember? How much did you have to drink last night? I know we had a buzz going before we went to the fireworks, you don't remember?"
Eric shook his head, fireworks, drinking, that was July 4th, that was months ago, before his life fell appart. "That was months ago." Eric stated.
"You really are hung over, arn't you. It may seem like years ago, but it was just last night." Leon smiled.
Eric shook his head, "I need a shower." he suggested, not sure of anything. A shower would give him some time to sort things out.
Leon smiled "Shower's all yours."
Eric walked down the hallway, and started the shower, he stepped in. A wave of tears washed over him thinking of his wife and son, dead. He must be out of his mind, insane, insane living in a world in his head, back before it all started.
As the soap and water cleaned Eric's skin, his head cleared. "Unless, I really am back on July 5th." he whispered to himself. Was there a chance he really had gone back to July 5th somehow? He finished his shower, and dried off. If he was insane it wouldn't matter, but if he wasn't, Sara and Kyle were still alive, and he had plenty of time.
He finished his showed, and found Leon in the Kitchen. "You look better, shower helped." Leon remarked.
"Changed the whole world." Eric smiled.
Eric called home, Darren answered "Hello?"
"Darren, great to hear you." Eric smiled, "How's everyone, Sara, Kyle?"
"Everyone's fine, Sara's at work right now, Kyle's over at a Peggy's. Why do you ask?" Daren asked puzzled.
"I had a bad feeling, just wanted to make sure."
"Well, everyone's fine around here. Anything else you want to say, you sound odd."
"Bad dream." Eric sighed. "Tell Sara I'll be home as soon as possible."
Eric hung up, he had to get going home, had to plan. Leon walked with him out to the car, he threw his things into the trunk, and got in. He started the car, and put it in gear, then remembered. He shifted back into park, and turned off the engine.
Leon came up to the car, and knocked as Eric looked over. "Car problems?"
Eric sighed, "Timing belt's going."
"How can you tell?" Leon looked at him oddly.
Eric paused for a second, not wanting to make Leon think he was insane. "I can hear it, I've heard it before with someone I know's car."
"We can find a mechanic, to get it fixed." Leon suggested.
"Sure, let's go upstairs and find one."
It didn't take Eric long to find a mechanic, he'd almost memorized the number the last time. The mechanic gave the same estimate for fixing the timing belt, and explained that there were some routine repairs done while the belt was removed.
"I think just the belt this time, how much was that again?" Eric asked.
The mechanic polietly replied that it would be Eight hundred for the repair.
Eric muted the phone, and exclaimed "Eight Hundred?" while he tried to turn red. He then unmuted the phone, and continued on "Ok, I'll see what I can do."
"Eight Hundred to fix the belt?" Leon asked, concerned.
"There's more that needs to be fixed, but I don't even know how I'll get the eight hundred to do just the belt."
Eric called Sara to explain the car situation, his heart leapt out of his chest when she spoke to him on the phone. She really was alive, Kyle too, he was making noise in the background. "As soon as I can get the money, I'll be on my way home." Eric said as he finished his conversation, a big smile on his face.
In an echo from another life, Leon offered to Eric "I can loan you the money, or you're welcome to stay with me until you can get it."
Eric thought for a moment, and answered "I can get almost five, can I borrow the rest?"
"Of course, let's go down to the mechanic and pay for the repairs, and you can write me a check for what you can afford right now."
By the next afternoon the car was repaired and running again.
"I sure don't feel good about not replacing the rest of the parts that are worn out." the mechanic said, handing over the keys to Eric.
"This is all I can afford right now, as long as it runs."
"Oh she runs, a little rough, probably needs a tuneup, but she runs well. It's a good thing you caught that belt before it went, it can cause a lot of damage if the engine's running when it dies."
"I knew someone who's belt died, and it made the same sound."
"Sound?" the mechanic asked, "I've never heard a sound coming from a timing belt before."
Eric paused, afraid he'd said too much. "It's a funny quiet whining sound."
"Better ears than I have." the mechanic shrugged.
Eric gave Leon a check for what he could afford, and started on the road. Eric wanted to head out at night, and get as quick a start as he could.
Three hours out of the city, the engine shook, chugged, belched steam, or smoke, and rumbled. Eric pulled it off to the side of the road where it gave a dying gasp. Eric got out of the car, calling it every name under the sun, and kicked it, leaving a dent in the door.
"Stuck out in the middle of knowhere, more than three hundred miles from home. Damnit all!" he screamed.
"It all ... It all ... It all." answered the echo from the dark night.
Out of money, in the middle of nowhere, with a dead car. Eric almost started walking into the darkness, along the highway, but then thought twice. Alone, he pushed the car further off the road. This might be the most comfortable spot to sleep for a while, if he was going to walk. He slept soundly that night in the passenger side of his blue Ford.
(Updated 11-1-2004)
Eric slept comfortably in his car seat, and didn't wake up until the sun was well above the horizon. He hesitated for a moment to leave the car, maybe it would be easy to fix, and he could be on his way. "No." he spoke outloud to himself, that was what delayed him before. Or was it now, than, otherwhen, He didn't know. He just had a chance to change things, and he would walk if he had to.
Slamming the door behind him, he stepped onto the black pavement, and started walking. After fifty feet he walked back to the car, and wrote a quick note.
I needed to get some as soon as possible. Had to leave my car here, because I don't have the money to fix it until I get paid.
Below the note he printed his name, address and phone number.
Again he was on the road, and in his mind he counted off the feet, and then finally miles. Within ten minutes he couldn't see his car anymore. Within an hour, he couldn't see the landmarks that reminded him where his car was. Here he was again, on his own, in the wildernes. "There's a difference." he whispered to himself, "I have somewhere I belong, somewhere I need to be."
The rythem of his footfalls, and the wind from the passing cars filled his ears. Those are the sounds of passing time, he thought. He had time to get home, but only if he kept moving.
As he walked, he became more aware of the world around him, the trees, and the road, the birds above, and the gentle wind. He felt at peace with the world for the first time in a long time, his car may be dead, but his wife wasn't. "Yet", the word echoed in his mind.
The sun rose and fell as he walked, his shadow caught up to him, huddled beneith him for a while, and then danced off towards the horizon as the day passed. Twenty miles, he sighed, sitting on the sloped ground along side the highway. In twenty miles, not one police officer had stopped to see why he was there, if he belonged to the stalled car miles back. He had seen them drive by, one with it's lights and sirens had chased another car off the road onto a side street. Eric kept walking, his mind counting the days, and the miles.
A loud bang interrupted the woosh of cars, and the thump of his feet. He jumped off the road, into the ditch, almost sliding in to the thin mud at the bottom. While he watched, a car pulled off of the road over to the shoulder. He climbed out of the ditch, and started towards the car which had stopped a tenth of a mile down the road from where he was. As the distance closed, he could see an old lady fighting with the floor board of her trunk. With the car leaning to one side, Eric could tell that the right rear tire had blown. Skidmarks he passed relfected the panic the driver had felt at the unexpected problem.
Eric neared the car as the lady struggled to pull the spare tire from the trunk. "Can I help you?" he called out.
Startled the lady turned towards Eric walking along the road towards her car.
"Goodness, you scared me." she replied, "Where did you come from?"
"I by the road, my car broke down about twenty miles. Almost had a heart attack when your tire blew." Eric chuckled.
"Scared me too, thought I was going to loose control."
"Looks like you did alright, got the car to the side of the road ok. I can help you change your tire if you like." Eric offered again.
"That would be a lifesaver." she smiled, as Eric finally reached the car.
Eric reached into the trunk, and pulled on the tire, it didn't budge. Finally he realized there was a bracket holding the tire in place. After the bracket was removed, the tire easily pulled out of the tire well. Below the tire was the jack and a wrench. Eric used the wrench to loosen the nuts slightly. Then he positioned the jack and began turning. Inch by inch the car stretched towards the sky, until the blown tire was no longer resting on the sun warmed ground.
Eric loosened the bolts some more, and then removed them the rest of the way by hand. With a mild tug, the shattered tire came off the car. Lining up the bolts and the holes, he set the spare tire in place. Reversing the process, he tightened the bolts, lowered the car, and re-tightened the bolts.
"There you go." Eric smiled.
"Thank you so much." the old lady smiled, clapping her hands in front of her chest. "Can I give you a ride somewhere, and buy you a meal?" she asked.
"I'm not in a position to turn down either offer." Eric nodded.
"I thought as much. Come on, into the car." she prodded.
Each mile marker that passed put a smile on Eric's face. Fifteen miles passed before she took him She took him as far along the highway as she was going, and they stopped off at the truck stop by the exit. "This is as far as I'm going along the highway, my place is further off the road."
"This is perfect." Eric acknowledged.
"The food here's pretty good, truckers like to eat. I know, my husband was a trucker before he died."
"I'm sorry to hear about him." Eric said, the emotions hitting too close to home.
"That was fifteen years ago." she recalled "So, what would you like to eat." she said, leading him past a sign that read "Seat yourself."
"What do you recomend?" Eric prodded, not wanting to be greedy.
"Do you like Chili? The cook here has won the cookoff 3 years in a row. Otherwise the steak is very good, and the salmon is not to be overlooked either."
"Award winning Chili sounds very good. I still have a long way to go, and it will keep me warm."
"You don't plan on walking further tonight, do you? It's almost dark outside."
"I spent a couple weeks in the mountains, a survival hike you might say." Eric stretched the truth.
"But, you don't have any equipment, no blanket, or sleeping bag." she frowned.
"I'll manage, I did on the hike."
"I have that old blanket out on the trunk. You're welcome to take that with you." she offered.
Eric remembered the blanket he had moved out of the way to change the tire. It was a large wool blanket, very warm looking. "Thank you." Eric bowed his head, wanting to tell the lady he would be ok without the blanket, but knowing he would be better off with it. Having not eaten all day, the award winning chili tasted even better. Eric ate the entire bowl of the chili that proclaimed itself "Big enough for a trucker's appetite." He drank as much water as he could, knowing how hard it could be to come by.
"Thank you very much." Eric bowed his head to the lady.
"Thank you for changing my tire." she replied.
Eric took a moment to call home. He spoke with Sara for a moment, explaining that he was having problems with the car, but would be home as soon as humanly possible. He told her he loved her, and was looking forward to seeing her again. His quarter quickly ran out, and he thought about reaching into his pocket for another one. No, he considered, the eleven dollars and change he had might be needed later on.
He wished so much he could tell her what would happen the day he got back, to warn her she would die, but how could he, what would he say? "Take everyone out of the house on the third, and hide in the barn." That would sound crazy. He could always say "Everyone scatter, go to different friends houses, and hide." He didn't know who broke into his house, who shot all of the people who lived in it execution style. Who they were even after, would they follow, where was safe. He knew it would sound insane to Sara if he told her any of that. Better, he thought, to make it home, and be prepared for the situation.
After dinner, as Eric was leaving, the lady took the blanket out of the trunk, and gave it to him. Eric wrapped it around his shoulders, thanked her again, and started off down the road again. It was soon dark, and he found himself sleeping amongst the trees again. As he fell asleep, he thought to himself, "40 miles today, way too many more to go."
The morning air was cool, but not cold. Eric shook himself awake. The blanket was wrapped tightly around him, and had kept him warm through the night. He carefully rolled the blanket up and tucked it under his arm. The sun watched him as he walked, slowly shifting it's position as he traveled along the highway. Mile marker after mile marker the distance home grew shorter, but the reality of the distance he had to travel grew longer. Around three hundred miles left, Eric thought to himself, and almost fifty lay behind him. He didn't think he could manage fifty miles in a day, and wouldn't have had the old lady not given him a ride for fifteen of those. He frowned, the twenty five miles under his own boots would need to be repeated twelve more times before he was home. His legs already ached, and his feet were sore. Twelve more days of this, and he would be home, with two weeks to spare.
The cold morning abandoned him, and soon the hot sun warmed the pavement. He walked further and further away from the road to avoid the heat. By noon he was sweating, the wool of the blanket iching his skin furriously. He walked further off of the road, and sat down among the trees, the shade was cool in the still air. He leaned against the tree, and soon fell asleep.
By the look of the sun when he woke up, he only napped for an hour or two. He started down the road again, soon the sky turned red, and darkened, and Eric found another place among the trees to sleep for the night. Pulling the blanket around his neck, he updated his mental distance, he had only managed eighteen miles during the day. Unfortunately, his endurance was begining to weaken, a feeling he was all too familliar with. He could still get home if he paced himself, even if he had to walk until his feet were worn off of the bottoms of his legs.
Thunder work Eric during the night, and he worried for a while about finding a dry spot to sleep. As the rain fell, he discovered the group of trees he was nestled into provided the best cover, and only a tiny bit of rain reached him. He sat awake listening to the thunder echo through the hills. It was a calming sound, rain and thunder, it was a reminder to him that he may be undertaking a great trek alone. He thought again, how so many cars had passed along side him as he walked, several of them had been police cars, who hadn't so much as slowed down to notice him. Along a major highway, he seemed to be invisable, which ran contrary to what he would have expected. Especially the first day when he was within just a few miles of his broken car.
"This is hell, I'm destined to live these twenty seven days over again." he said out loud. "Destined to never get home to save them."
Loud thunder echoed through the trees as lightning flashed in the clouds above, the roar continued for nearly a minute, and quieted to the normal intermittant flashing.
"Or it it all up to me, my descision, I know what will happen and I have to do this on my own?" Eric asked the air.
The ligtning abruptly ended and as minutes passed, the only sound heard was the falling of the rain. Quietly the thunder quietly began to rumble in the distance, as if not to disagree.
Muddy ground, was all that was there to remind Eric that it had rained overnight, the morning was bright and beautiful, and quite comfortable. The blanket he was curled into was slightly damp, so he hung it from a branch in the sun. As he foraged for some food, the blanket dried, and by the time he was no longer hungry, the blanket was mostly dried. He rolled it up carefully, and tucked it under his arm.
(Updated 11-2-2004)
Above him the sky was blue, with hints of wispy clouds occasionally blowing across. Eric became mind numb as he walked along side the same road he had seen for days. As before, no police pulled over to find out why he was walking alongside this major highway. Last night's thunder had convinced him that he had to walk this route on his own, a sacrifice of sweat and fatigue to save his family. Car after car raced past him, the trees to his right, passed beside him, but did not race.
Eric whistled happy tunes, and walked on following the route on foot that thousands of tires traveled daily. His footfalls became an imagined beat, and his tunes matched the rythem. Sometimes hours passed without a thought, and other times a simple mile stretch of road seemed to take days to travel.
Night began to fall, and the sky blue began it's fade towards fire and then darkness. Up ahead Eric noticed a bridge, cars were frequently exiting at this bridge. Finally, he saw a truck stop at the bridge. Bright yellow cubes in the sky proclaimed this spot property of Waffle House. Eric smiled, a dollar or two, and he could eat a small meal, and continue on to a place to camp for the night along the highway. Foot after foot, he watched the restaurant creep closer, as the sky darkened towards night. Eventually, he did reach the aluminum and glass door, and sat down at a worn table. A disinterested waitress came by and took his order, scrambled eggs, and water.
As Eric ate his one dollar, thirty seven cent meal, he looked out across the street. He was in no hurry to eat, as his feet were aching, and the break was a pleasant change. He ordered a second scrambled egg, and sat drinking water, and staring out the window. In the rush of cars, a white car slammed on it's breaks, it's rear wheels lost hold on the road, and it spun, slamming it's passenger side into the hood of an oncoming van. Traffic squeeled to a halt, and light smoke drifted out of the smashed hood of the van.
Eric watched through the window of the the Waffle House, the driver of the van appeared to be unconsious, while the driver of the white car was pushing his way out of the crumpled car. For a moment, Eric thought of going to help, but he was worn out, and sat to watch. People soon appeared from other nearby stores. Moments before the smoke from the van burst into flames, the door was forced open, and the driver pulled out of the van. People backed up from the van as the flames grew hotter.
Eric watched wearily until his second plate of eggs arrived. He ate them quietly, drank more water, and paid for his dinner. The waitress had been uninterested, but not rude, so he left her a quarter.
Thunder rumbled in the distance when Eric stepped from the resturant, he shrugged, and continued walking. A loud, long burst of thunder echoed in the sky above. Imadiately after Eric heard a hard metal clanging sound, the woosh of something flying in the air. There was a brief moment of intense pain before he blacked out.
It was dark before Eric awoke. Although he could see nothing in the darkness, he could tell by the quiet, the lack of stars above. Feeling around, he realized he was lying on a bed. Something was tight around his head, he felt above his ears, it was gauze. Pain flashed through his head as he felt the back of his head where something had hit him. He rolled over onto his side, and fell asleep again.
When he awoke again, it was bright out, he was in a small white room, it looked vaguely like a hospital room but less technical. Shifting his weight, he rolled over again. The pain in the back of his head throbbed, but was far less than it had been. Blury for a moment, his vision slowly cleared as his brain remembered how to focus. He looked around the room, his clothes were clean and folded near the bed, he was wearing a thin robe of some sort. Carefully, he slid his legs over the edge of the bed, and put his feet on the ground. His head throbbed, but not horribly as he put his weight on his feet, and stood up. Testing his balance, he walked to the other side of the room, and back, before sitting on the edge of the bed again. His head was slightly fuzzy but he had no trouble keeping his balance. Behind him he heard the click of the door, and it swung open as he turned around.
"Oh, it was you I saw moving in here." a petite raven haired nurse smiled.
"That was me, testing out the old legs." Eric replied.
"You probably shouldn't be up and walking on your own yet." she said.
"I don't have much choice, I need to get home. Was I out long? Where am I?" Eric questioned.
"They brought you in three days ago at night, you've been out since then. You're at Caring Hand Clinic."
"Two days. I remember a clang, and pain, and then I was here. I woke up last night, but fell back to sleep."
"The driver that brought you in reported that a piece of metal from a truck was kicked up by a car's tires, and hit you on the back of the head."
"Yeah, that feels about right, explaines the clang."
"So, how's your head feeling?" she asked.
"I've had hangovers that were worse." Eric recalled.
"That's a good sign."
"When can I get out of here?" Eric wondered.
"Oh my. You shouldn't leave until doctor looks at you. He'll know what's best."
"I need to get going again, I'm on a timeline to get home."
"Walking along the highway?" she asked.
"It's sort of a spiritual walk." Eric answered, afraid the truth would land him in psychiatric care.
"I had an uncle once, who wanted to walk from Maine to Florida. He never did get around to it."
"It's very important to me to complete this walk."
"Well, you might be on a small break, we'll see what the doctor says."
"Ok." Eric said trying to sound pleasant.
(Updated 11-3-2004)
It wasn't until noon that the Doctor came to check Eric out. Eric by that time had been walking around the room, unable to sit or lay still. The nurse protested, but Eric had been more stubborn. He was pleasantly surprised whem the nurse brought him a substantial meal for lunch, it was bland, but he didn't have to pick it off of a bush himself.
There was a knock at the door, and a doctor entered the room "Good afternoon Eric, I am doctor Franz."
Eric walked over to the doctor, and held out his hand "A pleasure to meet you."
"Well, you seem to be doing quite a bit better." the doctor smiled, "Your balance looks good, any pain?"
"Nothing exceptional." Eric answered. "The back of my head's a little sore, but I'd imagine that's to be expected."
"Oh, yes. After getting knocked unconsious by a flying piece of metal, a little pain would be normal. Let me take a look at it."
Eric gestured his head around, and the doctor removed the bandage. There was a little blood on the bandage, but it appeared to have stopped shortly after it had been applied. The doctor felt around the back of Eric's head for a few minutes, the pain was even less now than it had been when he first got up. The doctor then sat in front of Eric and tested his reflexes, while asking questions Eric understood were testing his memory and reasoning ability.
"Well, everything looks ok, your reactions are right where they should be." the Doctor conceeded, "I'd still like to keep you another day, but I understand you're anxious to get going again."
"I am, plus I really can't afford what's already been done for me. I've been unemployed for over a month, and my car is broken."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, we're a volunteer clinic, and operate on donations from the community and our patients. We will give you a cost summary for what your care has cost the clinic. We only ask that you pay what you can, when you are able."
Eric reflected on this for a moment, "More and more I come to realize that I am in a spiritual journey, that I am walking this path for a purpose seperate from why I began it."
The doctor chuckled heartily, "I believe that is true for all of our lives."
Eric filled out some paperwork, and the nurse gave him his cost summary. He saw the number was much lower than he had expected, he carefully folded it up and put it in his pocket. A dollar of his prescious money went towards a sandwitch to fill the spot in his stomach that the hospital food hadn't filled.
Eric stopped at the main desk to ask for directions back to the highway. Not only had he lost 3 days of walking, but he would need to walk about eight miles until he reached the Waffle House, four days gone by the time he caught up. Still, he had nineteen days to get home.
After an hour of walking, the thump of his feet on the pavement was echoing the pounding of head. He walked slower and the pounding receeded, and before long the familliar Waffle House sign was visable. Gray and forbidding the sky had clouded over, the horizon dimly glowed red dispite the clouds. Soon, he was back at the bridge, as he followed the ramp down to the highway below, he looked over his shoulder. A black spot of pavement, and assorted debris marked the place where the van had crashed, where it had burned. Pausing for a moment, he remembered the events of the last time he stood near this bridge. "I should have gone to help." Eric whispered, "That's why I'm here, I've been bought, and the price is acceptable."
The threatening sky above refraned from soaking Eric that night when he made camp three miles further down the road. Warm and secure between two trees and a bush, he slept soundly.
The next day went quickly, with his mind lost in thought, his feet carried him onward. Playfully the sun ducked behind clouds during the day, and the temperature never went higher than mid seventies. Mile after mile melted into the horizon as his feet carried him forward.
As darkness fell, Eric approached another bridge, the blue road signs alerted him that there was a truck stop ahead. Eric stopped, he found nothing cheap yet worthwhile for food, and continued onward. Ahead of him he saw yellow blinking lights, hazard lights on a car along the road. Almost unconsiously his pace quickened, as he walked towards the car. A young college girl was sitting in the front seat, she was pale, and looked ill. Eric knocked gently on the window, and she jumped. Eric backed away from the window and waved as the girl slowly moved towards the door to roll down the window.
"You ok?" Eric asked.
The girl stared for a moment, shivvering. At first she looked afraied, but she replied. "I don't think so. I was on my way home from my boy friend's house, and started feeling sick, I drove for a while." She paused, breathing deeply. "But then, I got too dizzy."
"Maybe we should get you to a hospital." Eric suggested.
She thought for a moment, and decided "You drive, I can't, things are spinning."
Eric helped her from the car, over to the passenger seat, where she sat down shivvering. He wrapped his blanket around her, and started up the car. A quick drive down the road he found an emergency turnaround, and turned back towards the clinic.
Eric parked the car in the first parking spot, and helped, almost carried her to the reception desk. The nurse startled when she saw Eric, and rushed over to the seat Eric had helped the girl into.
"What happened?" the nurse asked.
Eric relayed what information he had, and the girl nodded in agreement. A wheel chair appeared quickly, and they rolled the girl off into the room Eric had been in. The irony made Eric smile.
After about an hour, the nurse came out to speak with Eric. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, because you're not family, but you did bring her in."
"Is she ok?" Eric asked.
"Only because you were in the right place. The doctor thinks she had a bad alergic reaction to something. It's under control now, and she's resting, and her parents are on her way."
"Glad to hear that." Eric smiled. "Then it's time for me to get going."
"Going where?" the nurse asked.
"Back to the road, have to make up some distance."
"Which way you heading?" the nurse asked.
"West, into the already set sun."
"I live that direction. Surely your spiritual journey won't be ruined if I take you as far as my exit."
"That would be great, I've already lost time. How far is your exit?" Eric asked.
"About twenty five miles down the highway. I have to work the night shift, so you could sleep on a cot, and we could leave out early in the morning."
"That sounds perfect."
The nurse never mentioned the cot would come with a hot dinner, and a hot breakfast. Eric was not disappointed.
Early in the morning, before the sun had even risen into the sky, Eric was gently shaken awake. He ate his breakfast hurridly, and was about to follow the nurse through the front doors, when a couple in the lobby stood up.
"Are you the young man who brough the girl in last night?" the man asked.
"Yes." Eric nodded.
The lady rushed over to Eric, and gave him a big hug, and the man shook his hand. "You saved our daughters life, thank you so much." the mother said through her tears.
"I did what anyone else would have done." Eric replied.
"No, you did much much more. She was out there in, on the side of the road for over two hours. You were the first, the only one who stopped to check."
"I'm glad I did." Eric smiled, "They said it was close."
"Very close, but she's alive. Is there anything we can do for you?" the father asked.
Eric thought for a moment, "I'm just on my way home. Twenty miles a day, and I'll get to where I need to be." Eric said.
"I'd drive you where you're going," the father offered, "but I need to stay here with my daughter. I can give you enough money for a bus ticket though."
"You don't have to." Eric replied, "I won't say no, if you insist."
Eric put the fifty dollars into his pocket along with his dwindling money. A couple hours, and he would be home.
The nurse drove him down the road, the sky above was dark. "A lot of storms lately." Eric commented.
"That's normal for this time of the year, we always have big storms," she explained.
"Just my luck to be walking through them." Eric commented.
"Where do you sleep at night?" the nurse asked.
Eric patted his blanket, "Under the trees, I haven't had trouble finding a dry spot so far."
"Outside? You don't stop at a hotel?"
"Nope, twenty miles, and I sleep wherever I can find a place." Eric shrugged.
"That's impressive. I hope your spiritual journey goes well."
"It will." Eric answered, "It has to."
"Here's my exit, but I'll take you a few miles further, help you on your way."
"Thank you very much." Eric nodded.
As they drove further down the road, lightning flashed above, and the thunder pounded through the air. The air became grey with rain, as visibility was swallowed up. A familliar prodding tone echoed in the sky, Eric sighed. The car slowed to fourty miles an hour, windshield wipers slaping at the rain. Ahead, was an exit, and as they got closer, the thunder became more intense.
"I think I should get out at that exit." Eric suggested.
"You sure? Right when the weather's getting so bad?"
"Completely sure, I want you to get home safely." Eric insisted.
"There's a gas station at the exit, you'll have shelter to stand under." she explained.
"Sounds perfect to me." Eric replied. "How far to the bus station?"
"It's two more exits after this one, on the state line. Want me to take you?"
"No." Eric answered, "I need to make it on my own I think."
As the gas station approached the rain thinned and the lightning quieted in the sky. The rain no longer blanked out their visability. Tugging on the door handle, Eric stepped out onto the pavement. He thanked the nurse one more time, and quietly closed the door. She disappeared into the distance as Eric muttered to himself "Looks like I'm doing this all by foot."
Eric waited at the station while the rain slowed down to a trickle, leaving only the angry gray sky. The thunder echoed only occasionally now and then, far off and distant.
Five dollars bought Eric a thick hunting parka with a hood, at least he would be dry when it rained.
(Updated 11-4-2004)
Once the rain had quieted down enough, Eric set out down the road again. Eric was glad to have the poncho, as the rain continued for hours, and it was well near nightfall when Eric saw a sign indicating the next exit was 2 miles. He camped about fifty feet into the trees, and slept quietly through the night.
In the dim light of morning, Eric walked the remaining two miles to the exit, and and followed a sign towards the bus station. He glanced up to the sky, which remained calm as he went to the counter, and purchased a ticket home. Fourty dollars, and he had a ticket which entitled him to be close to home in five hours.
Eric sat quietly in the bus stop, looking at the rest of the waiting passengers. Funny, he thought, how after walking down the road for days, he was now uneasy around this large group of people. Then again, he considered, I was out in the woods for a long time before I got kicked back, maybe that's it, some edge of that braindeath left.
A warm can of soup dropped out of the machine when Eric pressed the button. When he couldn't find a spoon, He peeled the lid back, and drank from the can. The wall clock showed half an hour left until the bus arrived. Feeling the call of nature, Eric went to the washroom. Convieniently the multitude of people who had gone through this stall had left him plenty of reading material, carved, penned and drawn onto the walls. Some of it was quite entertaining.
Afterwards, Eric looked around the bus terminal, there was a flat wooden bench, two butts wide in the middle of the room. To the far end was the washroom, doors, old and wooden, with opaque glass that rattled in it's frame. Vending machines lined the front wall of the stop, covering part of the huge plate glass window. Behind the machines, facing out that front window were signs advertising weekend specials to various towns across the country. To the other side of the front door was the ticket desk, a lone man stood behind it, selling tickets.
Eric dozed off for a moment, and was awakened to a call for his bus over the speakers. He grabbed his blanket, and the parka that had been drying across the bench. For as few people as were traveling on this bus, a line formed quickly. Wrinkling his nose at the stench, Eric waited in line behind a middle aged gentleman who appeared to have bathed in muck and been hosed down only hours ago. As slow as the line seemed to move, the bus eventually was borded. Near the back of the bus, Eric found a vacant seat, put his blanket beneith his head, and fell asleep.
Eric awakened to a loud crunch, he was pushed against the window of the bus, causing his previous bump to throb. He looked out the window, and saw the highway, not the side of the road as he was expecting, but the actual road, stretching into the distance. Everything seemed to be moving slowly, as Eric looked around. The bus driver's white knuckles were clenched so tight they had almost become a part of the wheel. Passengers were screaming, but Eric heard no sound, other than the rumble of tires traveling down the pavement sideways. In freeze frame, the bus slowly spun, so that he was again looking out the window at the side of the road, then looking out at the skidmarks that the bus had just made. More crashes sounded, as the bus lurched and tilted. It was traveling slower now, so Eric doubted it would tip completely over. It might not have, had it not been for the front wheels of the bus catching the guardrail of the small brigde. Eric threw his poncho and blanket before him as the passengers and property from his side of the bus were poured towards the far seats, and onto the window. Eric peered beneith him at the glass window, right on the other side of it was the rapidly slowing highway.
As the bus stopped, Eric jumped to his feet, he looked at the open door of the bus, above them, at the far end of the bus. Jumping on the edge of the nearest seat Eric stepped across the seats until he was at the front of the bus. Behind him, he could hear the groaning of the injured passengers.
"Everyone, hold still. There's been an accident." Eric called out. "I'm going to go outside and see how bad things look."
He grabbed onto the opening of the door which had been thrown open in the flip, kicked his feet against the floor, and pushed himself towards the sky. It wasn't until this moment, that Eric realized just how bad things were. He dropped to his knees as he looked around, not only had the bus hit something, a chain reaction had caused several other cars to pile up on the road behind it. Suddenly Eric realized that he had seen this bridge, those skid marks, the debris on the side of the road before. When he had driven home to find his family dead, he had seen this stretch of road, the skidmarks told of a horrible accident, long since cleaned up. This time, Eric was getting to live the accident, and it was far from clean. The smell of rubber, and spilled fuel hung in the air.
Eric moved back towards, the door, dropped through the opening, onto the handrail behind the driver, and looked around. People had started to move around, pushing away the junk and people that they were burried amongst.
Eric reached down towards the bus driver, small trickles of blood lined his face, but they appeared to not be from serious cuts. "Are you ok?"
"Of course I'm not ok." the driver answered gruffly.
"Are you hurt?" Eric asked for clarification.
The driver moved around, checking himself out. "Banged around, going to have bruises everwhere, but nothing broken."
"Then get up, we need to get these people out of here." Eric told the driver.
The driver nodded, and moved to a standing position on the drivers side window. Eric gestured for him to move out of the drivers area. Eric jumped down onto the driver side window, it shattered under him, and bowed out to the ground. Looking around, he spotted, red, grabbed the fire extinguisher and smashed it into the front window. The window spiderwebbed, and bowed out. Again he hit the window, and the top seperated from the frame. When he hit it lower, the remainder of the glass peeled out of the frame and fell to the ground.
"It's a mess out here." Eric motioned to the driver.
Eric called to the back of the bus "Anyone trained in First Aid?"
Two people near the back raised their hand.
"Those are your experts," Eric motioned for the bus driver, "The goal is to get everyone out of the bus as quick as possible." Eric looked towards the two in the back. "You need to make sure that people who shouldn't be moved, don't get moved." They nodded.
Eric ducked, and walked out the front broken window of the bus. He walked around the bus, and found no evidence that it was leaking fuel. He tucked the extinguisher under his arm and quickly headed back towards the pile of cars behind. Eric thought he could count seven cars, maybe eight.
The first car's hood was crumpled, and leaking. This was the fuel that Eric had smelled. He went around to the drivers side and looked in. The driver was looking around groggily. He frowned, and pushed on the drivers side door, which refused to budge.
"Roll down your window." Eric suggested. The driver moved slowly, but did as asked. "Are you ok?"
"Can't get the door open." the elderly man shrugged.
"Are you hurt, anything broken?" Eric asked.
"Me, no, got my belt on. Car's hurting though." he replied.
Eric grabbed onto the frame of the door, "Pull the handle on the door." he said. The man reached forward and pulled on the door latch, Eric pulled back sharply, and metal groaned. "Keep a hold of it." Eric directed. Eric pulled again, and the door inched outward. Eric leaned towards the door, grabbing it tightly, and threw his weight back, the door snapped past the bent frame, and swung open. Eric clung onto the door as he lost his balance. There was a cracking sound, as the top hinge of the door broke, and the edge of the door fell to rest on the ground.
"You did it!" the old man briefly smiled.
"Let's get you out of there." Eric suggested.
The old man fumbled with his seatbelt, it released, and he slid himself over on the seat. Eric grabbed the man's hands and helped him out of the car. Eric then asked him to go over to the other side of the road, to a clear spot in the grass, far away from any cars. The man slowly walked across the debris scattered road.
Eric winced when he got to the next car. The side of the car had been smashed in behind the driver's door. The driver, a girl who might be twenty was crying.
"Are you hurt, anything broken?" Eric asked.
"My arm, it's broken. My leg hurts, but I think it's ok." she choked out between tears.
The driver's door was swinging freely, and Eric pushed it out of the way. He helped her out of the car, and asked her to go over to where the old man was standing.
"What about my arm?" she asked.
"Hold it as still as you can when you walk. Once I'm sure everyone's ok, we'll put a splint on it."
"You'll do it now." she panicked.
"No." Eric said calmly and forcefully. "You won't die, others could." He looked into her eyes at the fear there.
She started to object again, but Eric shot a glance at her that changed her mind.
Ahead, Eric could see drivers from the stopped cars had gotten out and were helping free people from cars. To his right, Eric heard comotion, he turned and looked. Three cars were piled on top of each other, and people were hurridly removing people from the car. A wisp of smoke fortold a bad future. Eric dashed over to the elderly man's car, grabbed the extinguisher where he had set it, and ran back to the smoking car. Inside the tangle of cars he could make out 3 people through the metal, glass and blood. Following the trail of smoke, Eric saw orange glowing from behind the radiator of one of the crumpled cars.
"Get them out." Eric yelled, as he discharged a burst of extinguisher into the grill of the car. The orange glow vanished, but the smoke continued from the hood. Eric used the extinguisher to knock the remnants of a windshield from the car. Inside were two young girls, one maybe eighteen the other twelve. "Undo your belt" Eric ordered, hoping one of them was consious enough to help out. The younger girl, slid her hand over and squeezed the button, her belt popped loose. Eric reached in and grabbed her, as carefully as he could he pulled her across the edge of the broken window onto the smoking hood. He looked around for somewhere safe to set her and go back, when a pair of hands grabbed onto her. Eric let those hands take the girl from him, and turned back for the older girl. Her belt was still buckled, so Eric got down on his belly, to open it. Throwing the belt over the girl, he pulled her gently towards the window. She moaned, as something hurt her, but the increasing billow of smoke from the car told Eric he had to hurry. She slipped free of the seat, and Eric pulled her out of the car.
(Updated 11-5-2004)
More hands appeared to pull the girl to safety. Eric glanced down at the hood which was now smoking heavily. He was about to jump off when he noticed movement in the car pinned beneith it. Eric pushed away some of the debris, and found a business man. The man had terror in his eyes, and was staring at the smoke from the hood as he attempted to pull his arm free. Pinned beneith a tire and the passenger seat of his car, the man was unable to pull his arm free. Eric glanced quickly at the smoke, and at the man.
"This is going to hurt, get your arm out quick!" Eric called. The man nodded, and started pulling his arm free from the tire. Eric braced his foot against the edge of the tire. Dispite the crumpled wheel well the tire turned slightly. The man in the car winced, but kept pulling. Eric put his weight into the tire, and it turned a few more inches. Eric pushed again, and it turned another inch, then another, and finally had rolled the man's arm far enough out from under the tire that he pulled it free. Hurridly the man made his escape from the car, Eric jumped through the smoke, out onto the pavement where the business man was already being helped away from the car. Eric's found his feet stuck to the pavement, and looking back he could see that where he had been standing, there were melted footprints on the hood. Pulling his melted shoes from the pavement, Eric turned and ran away. Behind him the smoke thickened, red flame began licking out of the gaps in the hood. Within seconds, the car was engulfed in flame and heat.
Eric ran around to the remaining cars to check for people, but drivers from the blocked traffic had rescued the remaineder. Eric ran over to where he had sent the old man, the two gentlemen from the bus who were trained in first aid were bandaging wounds. Eric ran back to the bus, climbed in and retrieved his poncho and blanket, and then back to the crowd.
"That's him, the guy that pulled me out of the burning car." The business man called out.
"He got us out too." the two girls said almost in unison. For a moment, Eric was the center of attention, they called him hero, and patted him on the back.
"You were so brave, how did you do it?" the little girl asked.
"I just thought of my family." Eric said, adding nothing else except a tear in his eye.
Eric helped out, a roll of duct tape made the rounds, Eric took several feet of it and made a makeshift splints for several people's broken bones. Before long, flashing lights surrounded the area, and the people who really knew what they were doing took charge. Eric stayed long enough to give his statements of the event.
A representative from the bus company was on the scene showed up quickly after the police, saying another bus would be on it's way shortly to pick up any passengers who still required a ride.
"No thanks," Eric heard himself say, "I'm going to walk."
"You're joking." the expensive suited bus representative said.
"No, I think that's how it's meant to be." Eric replied.
"You're the hero today, we can't just let you walk away."
"Yes, you can. I did what I was meant to do here, and I need to be on my way again." Eric gestured down the road.
"Can I at least give you the money for your ticket back then?" he asked.
"Sure," Eric said, "It might come in handy."
All the representative had in his pocket was fourty dollars, which he over cheerfully handed over to Eric.
Eric's feet soon put distance between him and the accident scene, once again he was on his own, walking down the side of the road. Glancing over at a mile marker, Eric shuddered. Again he did the math in his head, then screamed into the air, "We only went twenty five fucking miles?"
The day went quickly, and ten more miles vanished beneith his feet. Finally when he was too tired, he lay down between his parka and blanket. With the exhaustion of the day, sleep came quickly.
Three more days came, and went, to Eric's surprise, there were no disasters to deal with. To his disapointment however, it rained all of those days. When it poured, he huddled beneith the trees to stay reasonably dry. When it drizzled, or just rained he walked. The slope of the road also became steeper, and between the exhaustion in his legs, and the cold of the rain, he had barely covered thirty miles in those three days. At one of the corners of the road, where it dropped off into the ravine below, he had seen the mountain ahead that the road was rising to meet. It would be slow going, climbing up to the place where the mountain pass and road met.
The forth day, the rain dwindled down to a trickle, and the sun peaked from the clouds. Eric's pace was still slow, but he had gotten more used to the uphill climb, and was making the best time he could. Some string he had picked up along the way now held his parka wrapped blanket to his back. His clothing was worn, he was hungry, and miserable, but if he could get back in time to save his family, he would certainly make that sacrifice. Whatever force was guiding him he was uncertain, was it God, or some native american spirit, or any of a million other beings from world religions. Did it really matter in the end, somehow he and whatever it was, had come to an understanding. A hero, Eric might be, but not one who set out to be a hero, or wanted to be a hero. This was a truce, an exchange, the lives of his family in exchange for some exerted effort on his part.
Either way, he was heading home, it worried him that he had so many days to get home, and such a short distance, he didn't think that was a coincidence. Nearly half his days had been spent on this journey, and he wasn't even halfway home. A feeling inside him remained confident that events were happening the way they should. Faith, some called it.
In the afternoon, as Eric was walking he found a cheap hotel, the sign outside advertised fifteen dollars a night. It would cost him that much for a shower and laundry at a truck stop, and he was tired from walking uphill all day. The room was sparten, yet not horribly scummy. There was no TV, only the stand where one had been hooked up. There was a folding chair in the corner, and a small round table next to it. On closer inspection the table was a bar stool with a round piece of wood in place of it's cushion. Eric peeked at the bed, the sheets appeared clean, as did the rest of the room, more than he expected for the price. The kitchen that had been advertised was dual burner electric range that was bolted to the wall. There was a rusty cast iron pan near the stove, along with some utensiles. The bathroom looked worn, but not particularly dirty.
Five dollars bought Eric something that aproximated food. He stripped naked, and washed his cloathing in the sink. Taking the string off of his bundle, Eric tied it to the table and chair, and stretched it across the heater vent. Then he turned the heater's fan on high, and hung his wrung-dry clothing over the line. His food simmered while his clothes dried, in the shower he was oblivious to both, as days of grime were scoured from his body. Dinner was slightly more than passable, and soon Eric was asleep.
Noises woke Eric in the morning, and he bolted to the window. As things had been going lately, Eric expected a turf war or something, but someone was just lazily dragging a suitcase down the stairs.
The sun was high enough that the time was likely around eight. Eric checked his clothes, they were dry, and he dressed. Tying up his blanket and parka with the string, he again slipped them over his shoulders. After turning in his key, he was again on his way.
Eric walked quietly down the road, walking had now become second nature to him, and the beautiful day passed quickly. Sometime around seven, Eric began to feel sick, his stomach turned, and he threw up onto the shoulder of the road. For a few minutes, Eric sat on his knees on the side of the road, rocking. The world around him wouldn't stop spinning, imediately he thought about the knot on the back of his head, maybe something was happening from the bump he had taken. No, he thought, that would have happened a lot quicker. He worried he had caught something horrible from the hotel, but he didn't think that had been long enough. Whatever it was, he had to keep going. After almost falling several times as his body started shaking, Eric's priority became finding shelter for the night.
The night was long, and he hardly slept at all, shivvering and dry heaving. His skin felt tight, and he knew he must have a feaver. Water, he needed to get water, but there was none nearby. Finally as first light was dawning Eric slipped into an uneasy sleep. He dreamed, but nothing that made sense, just a jumble of images, and events, he could make no sense of it. Around noon, he wrestled off his unconsiousness and forced himself to his feet. "No time to sit on your ass!" he yelled at himself.
Walking slowly, and feeling as if the word around him was moving like an amature documentary, Eric made his way down the road. As before, nobody noticed him, nobody looked. In a dream state, somewhere between reality and insanity Eric walked, he saw motion where there was none, and the daylight seemed much dimmer than it should be. The cool chilling air of night refreshed him slightly, and he kept walking, until late in the morning he reached a state rest area. In the washroom he again attempted to empty his stomach, there was nothing, as he expected. Other ends were much easier to empty. He washed the stench off of his hands and face, and cleaned up as best as he could. In the loby a vending machine taunted him with beverages, all of which were sold out. "Wait" he whispered to the air, one light wasn't on. It may be his least favorite beverage, but that night grapfruit juice had no taste. After the can was empty, Eric drank from the water fountain until he could feel his stomach stretching inside him. He almost vomited again on the floor, but held it. The uncomfortable full felling kept him awake just moments until he dozed off on a bench.
"Are you alright?" a voice in his dreams called. Eric shrugged it off, and continued sleeping. A hand was on his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Son, are you alright?"
"Dad?" Eric said, not quite aware of what was happening.
"Well, I'm a father, but not your Dad." the voice answered.
Eric forced one eye open, a man dressed in black and white was standing in front of him. A police officer? No, the outfit would be blue. A priest? Eric opened the other eye. "Am I dead?" he asked.
"No, you're very pale though. How come you're sleeping on the bench in the middle of a rest area?"
Eric looked around, pushing his body to a sitting position. He was in the rest area, the can of grapefruit juice on the floor where it had fallen from his hand as he dozed off.
"I was walking home, almost half way there. Yesterday. No, the day before, I got sick, I slept in the bushes. I walked here, I think. Cleaned up, and this is as far as I got."
"Why don't you come back with me to my church."
"I can't, I'm on a journey to get home, I still have a long way to go." Eric wobbled.
"You'll get much further if you stop and rest, and get well before you continue on."
"You're right." Eric conceded, "Thank you."
"It's all his plan." the priest responded.
"More than you know." Eric nodded.
Eric didn't remember much of the drive to the church, he was still so worn out that he dozed off more than he was awake. He and the priest spoke, but all Eric could remember was an introduction. "I'm Father James."
Father James settled Eric down on the couch in his living room, and went about his business. Eric slept the rest of that day, and through until the next morning.
The smell of breakfast stirred Eric from his sleep, he shook his head and sat upwards. The world moved a lot better now, and Eric was sure that he was more connected to reality than his dreams. He stretched, and loosened the knots in his muscles.
"Your friend is up." called a soothing female voice from the kitchen.
A couple thoughts for readers ...
I don't know if this story will go to 50,000 words in it's present course, it may end up at only 30,000.
The reason for this is the story is rapidly closing on the end. Eric has 11 days in which to get home (Will he make it?). I can't see 11 days of story lasting all the way to 50,000 words.
If I finish this story, I'm going to go back and finish last year's story. While this story has my interest, I feel more close to the previous 2 stories, and want to finish the second story, to find out what happens to that crew. But, I won't abandon this story to finish that one. Nor an I going to extend this story simply to reach 50,000 words. If it reaches 50,000 it does, if it doesn't, oh well. It will be done right.
So, hold on with me here, Eric's got 11 days, and 120 miles to go. His adventure began with a trip through hell, and hasn't gotten much easier since. So, her we go back to the story.
(These words are not counted in the total because of much code-ninja-ness)
(Updated 11-8-2004)
From down the hallway, a muffled voice called out "Just brushing my teeth, I'll be right there." the voice was that of Father James.
"How are you feeling sweetie?" the female voice asked as she exited the kitchen to check on Eric.
"A lot better than I did, still not great, but I don't feel like someone should start digging a hole."
"That's good. I made some breakfast, if you're up to eating."
"Very much so, thank you ..." Eric paused.
"Sandy. I'm James's sister, I live here too."
"I'm Eric. Thank you for letting me stay."
"Nothing unusual around here," she smiled, "James looks out for people."
"That I do." James had finished brushing, and had entered the living room. "I do the work of God, and that includes taking care of people in need."
"I seem to be doing his work lately as well. Though in my case not as voluntarily as you."
"You must tell James more about that!" Sandy noted, "But, eat first, or breakfast will be cold by the time you are done."
"Breakfast first." James agreed.
Eric's stomach rumbled in agreement. Breakfast went, well, fast. It was simple, yet wonderfull, eggs, sausage, and waffles. Eric ate his fill, and Sandy was smiling at him happily.
"Eric knows how to eat. See, I told you I was making enough food."
"Sandy grew up in a household with four children. She's used to cooking big meals, and gets disappointed if they're not eaten. Even though she refuses to cook smaller portions."
"You just don't know how to eat a good breakfast. Never did." Sandy replied.
Eric just smirked as the two argued as only sister and brother could.
When they had finished, Sandy asked Eric, "So, you said you've been doing God's work lately?"
"I guess you could call it that, I seem to have been hired on as a temp."
"How so?"
"Well, it begins a few weeks ago, when I went to visit a friend. It was a good visit, but when I went to go home, my car was broken. I stayed at his house for a few weeks longer until it was repaired. Here's where things get strange."
"Go on." James smiled.
"My car was repaired," Eric hesitated, "next week."
James's look shifted from interest to concern that his rescued person was quite insane.
"I know that sounds insane, I can see it in your eyes. But, it's true. After my car was repaired, I went home, and found my wife, son and roomates all dead. It had just happened within hours." Eric's eyes began to tear just remembering that moment.
"How awefull!" Sandy exclaimed.
James just nodded his head, look unchanged.
"It was," Eric agreed. "My mind kind of snapped, I don't remember much for a few days, maybe weeks. I'd just wandered out into the mountains, I had nothing left, and lost myself as well. I wandered those mountains, a blackness covering my memories. Eventually, while walking down a service road I was hit by a jeep. In that moment, I remembered everything, and was killed."
"You look very much alive to me." James stated.
"That's what surprised me as well. I woke up in my friend's house after that happened."
"Isn't it possible you just dreampt the killing of your roomates and friends?" James asked, suspisciously.
"That's what I thought as well. I decided it wasn't worth the chance that it wasn't a dream. So, I decided to go home that day. I remembered the car was broken, and had it fixed. Only, it wasn't fixed enough, it broke down three hours out from his house."
"How far away from home was that?"
"About three hundred fifty miles." Eric replied. "I've walked almost half of that by now, it's been a long walk."
"That is a very long walk." Sandy agreed.
"You haven't gotten a ride home in all that time?"
"I'll get to that part. That first day I changed a ladies tire."
"That was nice of you." James nodded, looking more confused than suspiscious now.
"Do unto others..." Eric implied. "Anyways, I was talking to myself, I guess to God in the process. I made a comment that it was no use because I was blocked every way getting home, it was no use."
"That's no way to think." Sandy frowned.
"That was made clear to me. When I said that the thunder picked up until it was a continuous roar. It wasn't until I said that it was up to me to do what I had to, that the thunder stopped. Abruptly, it went from noise to almost silence. The thunder led me along, whenever I did something it didn't want it rumbled. When I sat and watched an accident, instead of helping, I was knocked out by a flying piece of metal. After that I rescued a girl sick on the side of the road, and took her back to the hospital I had been in after getting hit." Eric paused, waiting to hear their impression.
James's face was blank when he said "I see, go on." Eric got the feeling he was being judged insane as he spoke. No, if anyone would believe it would be a priest, who else would.
"When I was given a ride, the thunder started when I had gone too far. I walked to the bus station, and got a ticket for the bus. The bus didn't make it too far, about twenty miles and the world turned upside down. That was the moment I really realized what I was doing, that I wasn't just walking by chance, that I was trading my efforts for my family."
Father James no longer looked suspiscious, his face was drained of all color, and his mouth had opened slightly. Sandy was equally as pale. After a moment, Sandy put her arms around Eric, squeezing him tightly. "You were the guy, who pulled my sister's daughters out of the burning car." James eyes were in tears, and he added his arms to the hug.
"That was me." Eric replied. "So, does it sound like God, or the universe or whoever, recruited me?"
"A miracle in my own house." James smiled. "Yes, I think it's safe to say that you're doing his work."
"Do you think I'll get home to save my own family?" Eric asked.
"That I cannot say. Have faith that things will unfold as they should."
(Updated 11-9-2004)
"I do, otherwise I wouldn't have made it this far. I wish I knew why this happened to me." Eric wondered.
"You already know, you were put into these situations to do what wasn't done the first time around. In exchange for being in the right place and the right time to save people, you're being offered the possibility of saving your family."
"I guess I'm here to be reminded of that, to remember why I'm on this road. I still remembered it though, I wasn't near forgetting."
Sara replied, "Perhaps you're here so that you get to meet someone who was affected by your actions, to see that it is doing good. Maybe it's just a 'thank you'."
Eric smiled, "I just hope it's over soon, it's hard work."
"There's only one way to find out." Sara smiled.
"I don't think I'm up to traveling right now." Eric noted. "But I'm feeling a lot better, breakfast helped. Once I'm well, I'm sure I need to get back on the road. I'm runing out of time to get home."
"You're welcome to stay until you're better." Father James offered.
"I appreciate that." Eric smiled.
Idle chatter lessened the mood of their conversation, breakfast plates were taken away. Father James offered his houses hospitility to Eric, who had only one request "May I take a shower and wash my clothes."
Eric sat on the couch that afternoon, refreshed from taking a shower, clean clothes on his back. He considered, and knew why he was here, it wasn't a thank you, or a way to see what he had done. It was proof, that this was all part of a plan, a reminder of how much he had already done. Eric was being given rest so he could continue on. Hopefully this isn't the calm in the middle of the storm, he thought, but had no faith in that.
When Eric awoke the next morning feeling well, and full of energy, he knew it was time for him to go.
"You're looking better." Sandy said, seeing Eric up and about in the living room.
"Yes, I think it's time to get back on the road."
"Are you well enough?" James asked coming out of the kitchen.
"Yes, I need to be on my way." Eric sighed.
"I have some stuff out in the garage for you." James said.
Stuff, turned out to be a hiking backpack and sleeping bag, a tarp and a canteen.
"I haven't gone hiking in years, but I never threw this stuff out. I guess I know why now." James smiled.
Eric packed his parka and blanket into the pack and tried it on. He flexted his arms, and no longer did the string on his bundle cut into his skin, the straps on the pack were soft and wide.
"This is perfect, thank you."
"I can't think of anyone more worthy to give it to." James smiled.
"Well, I thank you very much for your hospitality."
"Wait, you can't go yet. We'll drive you back out to the rest stop. I can't imagine that will interfere with plans."
Eric looked up at the clear sky, "We'll find out."
No thunder sounded when Eric was dropped off at the rest stop. Sara and James left Eric at the rest stop where James had found him. "Take care Eric." James waved, "Go with God."
"Thank you." Eric waved back.
Soon, it was just Eric again, he picked up a map at the rest stop, and was on the road again. Judging by the sun, it was just before noon. In the beautiful weather, with a comfortable pack, Eric walked well into the night. With his goal in sight above him, he kept walking until the road leveled, and began to turn downward. He had reached the sumit of the mountain pass. Eric slept well on the
(Updated 11-10-2004)
Well, as happens in November, another project is going to take priority over my story. All deadlines are off, and the story will most likely not be done by the 20th. The project that is taking priority is a webservice I run called the IFPL (ifpl.cattech.org) and has been my baby since 1995. I recently recieved an email with Australian and Holland location data, which I've been hoping for years! I'll get this story done, but it's probably not going to be on schedule. Right now I'm waiting for the data to be uploaded to my server, but once it's there, the NaNo project is on hold. (Again, these words not counted)
...side of the road, nestled in a small clearing, in his new sleeping bag. That night he dreamed about the day he and Sara had arrived at the school, just married. He leaned over to kiss her, and she started fading into nothingness. "Save me!" she called.
"I'm on my way." Eric called as she vanished. He awoke, and packed up his camp. Before the sun was even visable over the horizon, Eric began his walk. Slowly the brilliant red, then orange, and finally yellow blazed over the horizon. The early morning fog that Eric hiked through melted slowly, revealing a blue sky with wispy white clouds. Following the road, Eric could see that the road would level out, and turn upward again into the next mountain. By this point, Eric had stopped thinking about how long his walk was, he just walked, without care about how far it was. If he could walk twenty five miles a day, he would be home in just under four days, but he didn't think his progress would go unhindered. Eric knew he would find himself in a situation again, sooner or later. Until then, he would put as many miles behind him as possible.
Eric walked through the day, cars flew past him, as did the hours. Soon, the sky reddened, and the sun sank beneith the mountains. Eric himself was just about to rise above the top of the next mountain pass. The four lane highway he was walking cut through the mountain at this point, leaving sheer cliffs of rock on either side. This wouldn't be a good place to camp, he thought, and instead kept walking. The sky continued to quickly darken, and ahead Eric began to see a pool of light, a truck stop. Mostly walking, he had eaten little today, and had hopes he would be able to get a sandwitch to eat at the store. The sky was pitch black by the time Eric's feet left the asphalt road, and stepped onto the hard cement of the station.
The stop was busy, Eric was lost in the crowd as he drifted around the glass refrigerated section. To the side of the small convienience market there was an almost as small seating area. Eric pulled a menu from the wall holster, and looked over it. A hot meal sounded good to him, so he ordered the special. As he ate and rested, the store cleared out until only Eric remained. The meal he was eating became almost as boring as it cooled. Eric wasn't about to waste any food that he had bought, so he forced the large tasteless food down. When he was one, he paid his bill, and went over to the store again for some some supplies to throw into his backpack. As he was browsing the shelves full of bright consumer enticing packaging, a voice shouted from the front of the room.
"Hands up, put the money into the bag." A bearded man shouted at the cashier.
Eric ducked slightly behind the display of potato chips, he hadn't been seen yet. Damn, he though to himself, here we go again. He stood up, grabing ahold of a container of cat litter.By the door, Eric noticed a second man with a gun, he had a hood pulled low over his head. Oddly, he wasn't scared, he knew this was what he was here for. Everything he'd heard had advised to let the robber take the money and go, but Eric knew if he was here the outcome was likely to be worse. How do you take down someone with a gun, Eric wondered. The cat litter should slow or stop a bullet, don't police shoot bullets into sand to do tests?
Eric walked slowly, towards the gunman at the counter, an energy growing inside him. It must be adrenaline, Eric thought, fighting back at the raw primal force that was pacing within him. Time slowed down, and Eric was aware of every movement in the room. The cashier was loading money from the first of three registers into the bag, the first robber was at the cashier's window, gun pointed through the open glass wall. The gunman by the door was watching as the money moved into the bag. Eric slid one isle over, he was coming up behind the gunman at the door.
Eric bumped a display, and something fell off the shelf, as it hit the floor, he moved. The gunman heard the sound, and started turning, the litter smashed into his gun and knocked it from his hand, as he staggered to catch himself he pulled another gun from his jacket. Eric grabbed the gun before he had a grip on it, and turned it against it's owner. From the counter, the robber turned. Eric flicked the barrel towards the robber at the counter. Eric wasn't sure if he pulled the trigger, or the gun just went off on it's own. The robber at the counter staggered, a spot of red appearing on the left side of his chest. He gasped, and dropped his gun. As he staggered to stay on his feet, the cashier kicked the register off the counter into the robber's gut, the robber dropped to the floor. Eric jumped over to the counter, and kicked the robber's gun away from him. The gunman by the door pushed open the door to run out of it, as a huge truckdriver planted a mellon sized fist into his face. The gunman dropped to the ground, unconsious. Eric set the gun he was holding onto the counter, and sat down between it and the wounded gunman. Eric caught his breath as the energy inside him drained away, he took off his pack, and sat on the ground.
Within minutes the station lit up with red and blue police lights. Police entered the doors with guns drawn, evaluating the situation. Eric was taken to the police station to fill out paperwork along with the clerk, and the driver. It wasn't until later the next day that Eric was released from the police station. No charges would be filed in this case. Eric was again the hero.
(Updated 11-15-2004)
The IFPL is doing what it should be doing, so I'm free again to write. Hold on, here goes.
How tired of those words Eric was becoming. If a Hero he had to be, he was glad to be it. It wasn't that he minded being in the right place at the right time to save person after person. That he imagined any decent person would want, especially with the knowledge he was sent because he was the solution. Eric had a feeling that if he did what he was supposed to, he would always walk away alive. No, what Eric minded was the feeling of being led by a carrot on a stick, of wanting, needing to get home to save his own. The time was growing shorter, and Eric needed to get home, the need was growing stronger. All he could do was walk in the right direction.
Eric's walk from the police station took him past the gas station where he had stopped the robbery. In the morning light the building looked tired, it's signs were white with wear and oxidation. The bricks of the structure were missing concrete between and pumps showed their age in stainless steel darkened with oil residue. Eric pushed open the door to the shop, and went in. In all the comotion, he never had a chance to stock his pack.
"Can I help you?" a young girl behind the counter asked.
"No thanks." Eric replied and went about his business. For the next days, Eric gathered several cans of soup, some chili, a can opener, pack of spoons and a pouch of premoistened towels.
When he went to the counter to pay, a voice shouted out from by the restaurant. "No charge sir."
Eric turned towards the large gentleman cmerging from the kitchen. "This guy was the one who stopped the robbery last night."
The girl behind the counter opened her mouth, closed it again, and after carefull consideration opened it again saying only "Wow."
The gentleman walked up and patted Eric on the shoulder. "Thank you my friend, for protecting my employees."
"You're more than welcome." Eric replied.
"You hungry? Lunch is on me, anything you want."
"Thank you very much." Eric replied to the kind offer.
Eric and the manager sat at a table in the restaurant, lunch was very good, more of a gormet dinner than what Eric expected from a truckstop restaurant. The owner and Eric spoke for a while about the nights events. Eric almost wanted to tell him about the journey he was on, but thought better of it. The topic eventually switched from the rescue to general chatter, which suited Eric better.
After dinner was finished, Eric picked up his pack again, and headed for the door. The manager patted on the back again, and thanked him once more. "Any time you're in the area, stop by, and say hi. We owe you a lot."
"You don't owe me anything." Eric said, "I'm just doing the work I need to."
"If only everyone did that work, the world would be a better place."
"Thank you for the food." Eric said.
"Anytime." The owner replied. Just then the phone rang, and the owner excused himself to answer it. Eric said a quick goodbye and started towards the door.
In the morning sun, a glint of metal from the floor caught Eric's eye. Without thinking, he could recognize the glint. In his mind he heard the echo of the steel barrel as it skittered across the floor. Quickly, Eric glanced around, nobody was looking. He bent down, just underneith a metal shelf he grabbed the gun. It was heavy in his hands. Continuing to move quickly, he slid off his backpack, and slid the gun under his sleeping bag. He didn't have time to examine it now, so he aimed it so it wouldn't shoot him if it went off.
Then, he was on his way again, he stopped for a moment along the road, behind some bushes to remove the bullets from the gun. Eric had never been interested in guns, but right now this one seemed like it had been sent to him.
A cold wind began blowing as the sun went down, Eric began shivering as night fell. The sleeping bag and blanket were enough to keep him warm, so he turned in early, covering his head with the parka and blanket to keep the wind off of his face. He slept well bundled in the cold weather, and didn't wake up until the sun was in the sky again.
As Eric walked the next days, the trees abruptly vanished, where the tall giants had once stood, there stood concrete walls. "Civilization" Eric whispered, unsure if that made him happy or not. His pace slowed, as he walked along side ever increasing traffic. As huge trucks passed by he was rocked by the wind, and although he kept his balance, he quickly tired of the trucks. At the next ramp, Eric climbed to the road above, and followed that road as it paralelled the highway below. The wind grew colder and faster, and before it was even dark, Eric was too cold to go on. He snuck into an abandoned factory, and found a tight corner to squeeze into. He warmed up, protected from the cold wind, and ate his cold can of soup. Before long, he was nestled into his sleeping bag, warm and cozy.
Protected from the outdoors, Eric didn't wake until the sun reached his face from one of the high overhead windows. He packed up his stuff, and snuck back out. Walking for three hours, Eric came to an extremely long bridge. It looked almost like a rainbow of concrete, except that at each end was the protecting fence of the railyard below, no pot of gold. Eric considered his alternatives. He could walk along the edge of the bridge, between the concrete barrier, and the racing cars. Alternately he could sneak down below, and over the fence into the railyard, the trains wern't moving very quickly, but he'd heard the horror stories of people dying in train yards, cut into bits like pizza. His other alternative was to follow the fence of the rail yard, which seemed to reach the horizon.
As Eric scampered over the fence into the rail yard, he wondered if this was the best choice. Maybe not, but he was certain he could avoid the slow moving trains. Eric crossed each track carefully, checking both directions for oncoming trains, and making sure his boots didn't get caught in the ties of the tracks. It was slow going, but not as slow as going around, and not as perilious as the road above.
Within an hour, Eric had navigated the train yard, and reached the other side. He stopped, and cursed nobody in particular. The fence on this side had coiled barbed wire on the top.
North or South the fence ran, almost to the horizon. Eric couldn't clearly see if the fence was less protected in either direction, but he had to pick. South it was, past the bridge he would have crossed. Not willing to walk on the rails themselves, Eric walked a good distance from them on the rocky sides. The gravel slid underneith his feet, and several times he almost fell. He cursed again, when he realized the sun was beginging to sink into the horizon, and he still wasn't out of the train yard. Ahead of him, what he thought was red sunlight reflecting off of glass, became more obviously a small fire burning in a trash can on the other side of the fence. Eric looked again, no, there was no fence, he had reached the end.
There were people, homeless Eric assumed, camped around the trashcan. Eric walked towards them, initially fearing that he might be unwelcome. None of the men even seemed to acknowledge Eric had arrived. As Eric coughed and wheezed in the bitter smoke, nobody paid mind, they continued staring into space. Many of the people were drinking, although not from paper bags as Eric would have imagined. As sun set, all but three of the men disappeared into the surrounding area, going to bed, Eric assumed. One of the men looked over at Eric, breaking the silence of the crackling fire.
"You new here?" the dirty bearded man asked Eric in a rough voice.
Eric took a moment to respond, surprised by the break in the silence. "I'm passing through."
"Thought as much, you look like you got a home somewhere."
"Only a few days away, if I keep my pace." Eric responded.
"You're too clean to be livin' on the streets." the man continued, "People usually look that way to begin with."
While they had been talking the other two men had vanished into the gathering darkness.
"I've been on the road for a few weeks now" Eric replied.
"Four years." the old man replied, holding out a grimy hand. "Name's Ed."
"I'm Eric."
"What's your story Eric?"
Eric paused, mentally editing what he wanted to tell this man, and what he didn't.
"I'm heading home to my family. My car broke down about two hundred miles ago, and I've been walking ever since. Less than a hundred until I get home."
"Long walk, I just walk around in circles, get kicked out of one place, and move to another. Would be better to have a place of my own, I guess the dusty streets are my own though. I can do ok out here."
Eric felt sorry for the man, and seeing as nobody else was around, Eric dug through his pack for a can of soup, the hair on the back of his neck bristling as he touched the metal of the gun. "There it is," he said to himself, as his hand closed on a can. He held it out to the bearded stranger.
"It's not much, but you're welcome to it." Eric offered.
A simple can of soup to Eric was the first real meal that this man had had in days. As if by magic, the contents of the can vanished into the man rapidly.
"You're a good man, I hope you get home to your family."
"Me too." Eric sighed.
The man set the can down, and dug around in a pile of garbage. He pulled a bottle from it, and poured an inch of the brownish amber liquid into the can. He picked the can up and held it out to Eric.
"Let's drink to you getting home." he announced.
Eric looked at the can, the brown liquid revealed it's alcohol content in a sniff. A lone noodle floated on it's surface.
"Don't be shy, I don't backwash when I drink. Sides, that's strong enough to kill anything."
Eric figured what the hell, and turned the bottom of the can to the stars. The brown liquid ran down his throat like fire, and Eric fought to not cough as he whispered "Smooth."
"Smooth as a chapped ass." the man replied, "But it's all I got."
Eric's eyes watered, as the liquid burned down to his stomach. "It's very much appreciated." he coughed out.
"So tell me about your family." the man asked.
"Here, I'll show you." Eric said, reaching for his wallet. His pocket was where he left it, but his wallet wasn't. His pictures, his ID, all gone.
Eric issued forth more curses, and said "My wallet's gone."
"Someone must have taken it. You loose much?"
"All my pictures, my ID, and about fourty in cash."
"Those are the ways of the street. Maybe you'll be lucky and be able to find it when the sun comes up, anyone who took it would keep the money, maybe a credit card, but nothing else."
"How could I be so careless?" Eric asked.
"Some of these guys could steal the bra off of a hooker, wasn't your fault."
"Why now, why this close to home?" Eric asked nobody in particular.
Eric kicked some garbage around, and sat down on another barrel. "It's ok, you've still got yourself a home, someone waiting for you back there. It's just a wallet, just money."
"I kept it the entire time I was walking, even though the bus accident. But, I guess you're right, I can go home, report it lost, and get a new one."
"Can't get a new family." Ed offered.
"No, you can't." Eric smiled, "Sometimes though, you can earn one back."
"What you mean by that?" Ed asked.
Eric told him the whole story, the alcohol in him loosening his secrecy. As he told it Ed poured him another can of that powerfull brown liquid. Soon on his third can, Eric finished his story. Ed looked at him in amazement, not like he was insane, but in amazement.
"I wish I could have that kind of luck. Go back and not drop out of higschool, only to be laid off, and out on the street."
"Four weeks is hard enough saving everyone. Years would be too much."
"Maybe, but every day is too much for me, I'd welcome the chance."
"Shit!" Ed said looking up.
"What?" Eric asked.
"Dogs, and flashlights further on."
"Someone coming."
"Yeah. Damn, why did it have to be tonight, they'll arrest us if they find us here."
"Where do we go?"
"There." Ed pointed to a slow moving train barely visable in the moonlight. "One of the cars is open."
Eric grabbed his stuff, finishing off his can of brown liquid. They both ran like the wind, and were to the train, and in the car well before the flashlights even began to search in their direction. Ed slid the door to the train closed.
"That was close." Eric huffed catching his breath.
"No, that was experiance." Ed sighed. "I've been caught before, usually just let them take me, it's a shower, and some food. But, you have people who need you, can't let you get locked up."
"Thanks." Eric smiled.
After they caught their breath, Ed asked, "So, why'd you get chosen to be the hero for your adventure?"
"I wish I knew, right place at the right time maybe. The universe recruits in the strangest ways."
"I'll drink to that." Ed smiled, and did.
Eric had dropped his cup, but took a long swig of the liquid when Ed passed him the bottle. Soon, everything became funny, they sat and talked, and laughed. Somewhere between laughing, and blinking, they got stuck. Ed folded his arms around himself, and shivvered in the cold air that blew in past the door.
"Here, take this." he said, pulling the hand woven blanket from hi s pack. "You need it more than I do."
The train was still moving when they woke up later.
Eric blinked into the light that outlined the heavy sliding door. He shook Ed who grumbled, and woke up.
"You're not supposed to wake someone up until the hangover wears off." he complained, tilting the now empty bottle.
"Sorry." Eric apologized. "Where are we?" Ed slid the door open an inch and peered out.
"Woods." Ed replied.
"No, where, relative to the city?"
"Couple hours ride north. Don't worry about getting back home, we'll stop at the next train yard, probably within the hour. Then we'll catch the first train back. You've got plenty of time to get back."
"Can't we jump?"
"No sir." Ed replied, "We're going at least fifty miles an hour. If the speed doesn't kill you, you'd at least break an ankle or something. It't take you weeks to get out of the woods that way, if you survived. Besides, you'd never jump back on a train coming at you at fifty miles an hour."
"How long till the next station."
Ed hung onto a bar on the outside of the train car, and leaned out, hanging onto the side of the train and looked down the tracks. When he pulled himself back in, he exclaimed.
"Whoohoo, that's some fun. Looks like we're just going north a little bit. Probably be stopping in a few hours."
"Soon I hope." Eric sighed.
Three hours later, the train began to slow, it bumped and lurched, and over the course of half an hour slowed to a crawl. Ed pulled Eric to the door, peered out, and said, "All clear." they jumped and ran across the short side of the yard into the trees beyond.
"Now you're an honarary Hobo!" Ed congratulated Eric.
"That'll look nice on a resume." Eric smiled.
"Now we wait, until we find the train back."
The next train out didn't start moving until just after the sun left the horizon and night fell. Somewhere around three the next day, the train returned to the yard where they had started their ride. They spent an hour at the campsite looking for Eric's wallet.
"I need to get going, if you find it, and there's money in it, you're welcome to it. Just do me one favor?"
"Sure." Ed replied.
"Send the wallet back to me, stuff it in an envelope."
"I can do that. Thanks for the blanket, it's very soft."
"Yes it is, it's been through a lot, take care of it."
Ed waved to Eric, as he climped the steep embankment up the wall of the train yard, and walked towards the city.
(Updated 11-16-2004)
Busy and sprawling, the trek through the city was the hardest walking Eric had done so far. At every cross street it seemed, he had to wait for the walk signal. Every road had traffic, and the noise such a contrast to the steady zipping of people, and sounds of nature. Eric took the whole city in, as he passed through it's heart. For the most part, people ignored him, his rough look prevented most bums from talking to him.
Soon Eric arrived in a part of the city he would rather not be in, the houses here peeling, with broken windows, and unkept lawns. Eric walked quickly through these neighborhoods, he looked at nobody as he traveled. The neighborhood started to improve, the buildings looking more maintained, painted even. One foot in front of the other, Eric continued on. The sun was falling towards the horizon when he reached the edge of the city. With his eyes searching, Eric walked until several hours later, when he found a park, the trees in the center of the park were dense, and he found a safe nook within them to stop for the night.
Shouting and yelling work Eric up in the very early hours of the morning. He thrashed out of the sleeping bag, crouching behind bushes to look around. In the middle of the park four people were fighting. Eric soon realized that three of them were attacking the third, a twenty something girl, with long curled brown hair. She was wearing a jean jacket, and bluejeans, which were dirty and ripped. Eric, almost reaching for the gun, but thinking better stood up. He walked towards the fight calmly, taking notice of the attackers, one was a young boy, couldn't be more than fifteen. Strong and muscled stood the oldest of them, a college aged guy with solid looking muscles. Beside him fought a girl, who Eric thought might be his girlfriend.
"Give me my money." the guy shouted.
"You can't take people's money, Jacob!" shouted the girl in jeans.
"I can take whatever I want Allyson, this is my park. These two help me run my park" replied Jacob, placing emphasis on "my" as he spoke.
"I'm not afraid of Tania, certainly not of little Cody." Allyson spat back.
Cody rushed up, and punched her in the stomach, for a moment it looked like she wanted to fall, but instead she brough a knee upwards. Her knee missed it's intended target, but had nearly the effect as it collided with his chest.
A familliar rush lit up inside Eric, he wanted to resolve this without fighting, but his body was ready for either alternative. As he strode directly into the fight, he yelled out "Break it up! What's going on here."
Tania looked Eric up and down, realized he definately wasn't a cop, and jumped towards him, her nails clawing into his shirt. Eric moved his leg behind hers, brought it inward, and pushed back, her nails didn't hold tight enough, and she fell. With a satisfying huff, she hit dirt.
"Hey! That's my girl." Jacob shouted, changing his stance to face Eric.
Eric dropped his fighting stance, and looked relaxed. "I'm just trying to find out what's going on here, help solve this disagreement."
"There's no disagreement, Allyson has money, I want the money, therefore it's mine." Jacob reasoned.
"I'm not giving you my money." Allyson shouted at Jacob. Jacob knocked Allyson to the ground with a punch to the face.
"There." Eric pointed out, "That's a disagreement. Jackass her wants to take money that's not his. He brings along two of his friends to rough up Allyson here. Sounds like the solution is for Jacob, Cody and Tania to turn around and walk home. Go home."
"This is my park, neither of you are leaving here without giving me your money."
"See, there you go again." observed Eric, "I'm certainly not giving you money, even if I had some. And Allyson seems to be set against it as well. Go home."
"You don't understand." Jacob said, pulling a knife from his pocket. "What I want, I get."
Eric shook his head, "The hard way then."
Jacob rushed towards Eric with the knife held out before him. Eric moved out of his way, and Jacob rushed past. Jacob grunted, and turned around, slashing the knife in Eric's direction, missing him only by inches.
Suddenly, Tania was on Eric's back, holding his arms. Eric jumped but couldn't shake Tania. Spinning quickly to the right, Tania's grip loosened, she hung on barely, until momentum carried her into Jacob. Eric jumped over to pick up the knife on the ground. Jacob tried to lunge towards Eric and take the knife, but Eric put his foot up and kicked Jacob in the chest, knocking the wind from him and dropping him to the ground. Eric's legs had grown strong from the walking, and he kicked Jacob harder than he expected. Jacob howled, as he fell to the ground, clutching his chest. Cody who had been watching from the ground, stood up and ran away. Tania was panting, but not moving agressively.
"Take him and go." Eric commanded Tania. She hesitated, wondering if she should fight for her man, looked at the tail end of Cody running down the street. Eric stepped towards her looking unafraid. She pulled Jacob to his feet, and said "Let's get out of here, we'll take her money another day."
Eric stood there, holding the knife in his hand as he watched them limp off after Cody. Allyson got to her feet, and held out her hand. "I want to thank you for what you did. You made Jacob look like a fool."
"He did that all by himself. You ok?"
"I'll live. I want to get out of this town, away from these people."
"So, why don't you."
"I'm unemployed, and I don't have a job."
"Me too." Eric smiled. "But I have one starting in a few weeks. And I've made it almost three hundred miles on my own."
"Where are you going?" Allyson asked.
"Home." Eric replied. "Almost there, just a couple more days."
"Can I walk with you."
"I don't know, I can't offer you a place to stay or anything." Eric answered.
"Oh, no. I didn't mean move in with you. Just walk with you for a day or two. Leaving my home town won't seem to lonely if I've got someone to talk to for a while."
"Sure." Eric said uncertainly, "Where's your stuff."
"I'm wearing it." She sighed, "The rest is at my ex's house, but none of it's worth going back for. Don't have anything worth much to my name."
"Ok then, let me get my stuff, and we'll be off." Eric walked over to the woods, and rolled up his sleeping bag, he packed it and his tarp into the pack, and made sure he had everything. The knife he stuck into a tree while he packed, and retrieved it afterwards. On their way out of town, Eric threw the rusty two inch blade into the river.
"So, you don't have anyone to go back to?" Eric asked Allyson.
"Nobody, my mom left when I was four, haven't seen her since, don't want to. Dad's a drunk, he only hit me a few times, but I saw what my friend went through, her dad put her in the hospital. As soon as I was old enoug, I left."
"How old were you?"
"Eighteen and two days. Picked up my paycheck, and moved in with my boyfriend. He turned out to be about as wonderfull as my dad. So, after two years I split."
"Where have you been since then?"
"Living from house to house, a week here, six months there. It's hard to hold a steady job when you're bouncing from place to place, and hard to have a place when you don't have a job."
"I can imagine." Eric agreed.
"The friends I do have I've worn out my welcome with. Maybe the road is for me."
"The road's for nobody." Eric said, "It's just a way to get from one place to another."
"Another place will be better than here." She suggested.
"Or worse." Eric countered.
"Can't be worse than here."
"Sure it can, can always get worse. Can always get better too."
"Can't imagine worse." she said.
"I can. I've seen it, and I got a second chance, a real honest to God second chance. I've seen things that would make your soul burn off in a furnace of sorrow and anger. There are things in this world, that will cause you to loose your mind, until you are lost within your own head. But, I think there's someone watching us. God, or something else, I'm not sure. Someone who isn't afraid to give you a second chance in exchange for hard labor and sacrifice."
"I could use a second chance. How'd you get yours?"
"I woke up one day, and realized I wasn't dead. Since then I've been traveling home. When my car broke, I walked. I helped people along the way, am still helping people along the way. It's not easy, but it's a far far better alternative to what could be."
"So, you're saying that I need to find God, and get religion."
"No. I'm not sure I understand who God is. However, I can help people out, I don't need to know God for that. I can pull someone from a burning car, I can stop a fight, I can change a tire. Religion isn't what I've found, it's something more basic than the politics of religion. This is just helping, anyone, anytime, anywhere. I hope in exchange I can have a chance to keep my family safe."
"All I know about God is screaming verses, damnation, and giving your hard earned money up. My father used to read the bible to me, how good children obeyed their parents, about damnation, about hell."
"I don't think God's like that, I think he just needs people to help him out, to follow his lead, and take care of things. If he's the one who built all this he can't want to destroy all of it, condem everyone to suffering."
"You make more sense than the preachers I've heard, out on the street corner."
"I've met others, ones that help. Sometimes when they whisper, they speak louder than those preachers who shout."
"I'd like to meet one of them some day."
"Do you have some paper? I can give you directions."
Alysson pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket. Eric jotted down on the paper a crude map of what he remembered of his trip back from Father James.
"That's the map to a good man. Someone you can trust. He's a man of peace."
Alyson folded it carefully, and put it in her pocket. "It sure would be nice to meet someone like that someday. Someone other than you that is."
"I'm not all that, I'm just trying to work on a trade. Trying to get home to keep things from falling appart."
He and Allyson talked as they walked, it wasn't a fast pace, but they did move along quickly, and as night began to fall, they had left the city far behind. Before them stood a split in the road, there were trees here, but only sparesly, surrounding the trees was the farmland that let Eric know he was almost home. Eric showed her which plants he knew to tobe safe to eat, every bit of outdoor knowledge he gained the hard way, everything he knew from books. She paid attention, and learned well what he was showing her. They had fun walking down the street, and talking, it was nice to have a partner to travel with. It made Eric miss Sara even more, he was running out of time, and fortunately at the same time, was running out of miles.
"I'm going that way." Eric pointed down the split to the right, "Almost home."
"It's been awesome traveling with you. I think I'm going to take the road to the right. I feel a pull in that direction."
"It's been good traveling with you as well, I hope you find a better life for yourself down the road. Walk enough miles, and anything's possible."
They each walked their own direction, and again, Eric was on his own.
He walked down the roads, smelling the smells of the fields, the air here was different, there wasn't any thing specific, just the smell of home.
Eric slept well that night, he was almost home, one more full day of hard walking, or two more light days and he would be there, with a day to spare.
(Updated 11-17-2004)
Eric began walking again early the next morning. Dispite the cold morning air, the dew that collected on the groun, Eric was pleased. Only a little further, and he would be home. Though he was looking forward to seeing Sara again, he was not looking forward to what would come shortly afterwards. He didn't know who broke into his house, why they broke in, or what they wanted. He did know that a cold evil lived in their hearts and minds, and he had no objection to driving that evil out with a bullet.
To the north, the field was freshly harvested, tall stalks of corn ground down into the dirt. The southern side of the road was still growing, waiting for the harvest. Dispite the cold start to the day, the walk warmed Eric quickly. Following Eric's example, the air warmed, and by noon he was sweating. The clouds above werefew and scattered, and the sun beat down on Eric's skin, which had developed a dark tan from his travels.
Eric was almost relieved to hear a loud explosion, squeel of tires, the crash of metal. Just across the road, a minivan had blown a tire, it had skidded into the second lane, and hit another vehicle, which had spun into the ditch. This Eric could handle, the anticipation of disaster was worse than helping out. Eric bounded across the street at the first gap in cars. Traffic on the oncoming side was light, which prevented the accident from becoming workse. Eric ran over to the mini van. A man the same age as Eric was sitting in the front seat, he was holding his hand to his head, where blood was pouring down. The front of the car was smashed in, and the hood buckled. Eric pulled the door open, and asked "You ok?"
"Hit my head." the man replied, sounding dazed.
"Can you get out?" Eric asked.
The man stared, as if not understanding, but finally reached over and clicked open his belt.
He slid out of the seat, and onto the ground. He stumbled, and almost fell, but Eric caught him, and kept him on his feet. He led the man across the street to the open median between the lanes, where the man sat down. "Take your shirt off, and put it on the cut. Put some pressure on it."
"Get the kids." te man motioned to the van.
Eric crossed back over to the wreck, he circled, and pulled open the van door. In the back appeared to be almost half of a girls youth soccer league. Six girls were sitting on the benches in the back of the minivan. Glancing around he could see four of them were fine, they were still in their seatbelts. One of the girls was crying, with blood on her hands, and the other was unconsious in the far back corner.
"If you're not hurt, take off your belts, and get outside, don't cross the road." Eric hurried the four girls out of the car, he followed them to the side of the road. There was no traffic coming, so he told them to run to the middle with the man. Eric made sure they crossed safely, then went back into the van. The girl who was crying only had a bloody nose, it was still dripping, but she looked ok otherwise. "You ok, just your nose?"
"Yeah." she shook her head, blood hit the seat.
The sound of a semi truck horn shattered the eery calm of the accident. Eric looked up the moment froze in his mind, through the back window he saw two trucks coming around the corner in paralell, the one with smoke billowing from it's screaching tires was heading directly for the van.
"Get out, jump in the ditch." Eric shouted to the girl. To his relief she started moving. Eric glanced back at the rapidly approching truck. He reached into the back seat, popped the belt off of the unconsious girl, pulled her towards him, he could see the lights of the truck in the back window as he pulled her into his arms. Stepping backward from the van, the world exploded. There was a blur of motion in front of him, the van vanished replaced by the wall of the truck, which continued screaming on down the road, rubber grasping at the pavement.
When Eric remembered to open his eyes, he was standing an inch off of the road. Looking down, just a foot in front of him was the still smoking trail of rubber the truck had left on the road. The dust and smoke began to clear, Eric still standing in one place at the sheer shock of watcing a truck and minivan perform a vanishing act. Cheering came from the other side of the road, as smoke revealed that Eric had in fact not perished. He shook his head, and led the girl with the bloody nose across the road while he carried the unconsious girl.
He set the unconsious girl into the grass by the rest of the girls, and said "Wait here." as he ran back across the street. In the car that had hit the van, there was a long driver, a teenage boy, who was sitting quietly on the seat.
"You hurt?"
"I couldn't avoid them, they drove into me."
"Their tire blew out, they lost control. I think everyone's alive still. How are you?"
"I tried, but I couldn't get out of the way."
"It's ok, there wasn't anything you could do. Are you ok?"
The young kid looked himself over, and undid his belt "I think so." He grabbed the latch, and tried to open the door. The door held tight, held fast to the car by the dirt wall of the ditch.
"Think you're going to have to get out Dukes of Hazard style."
"Who?" asked the kid.
"Never mind, I'm too old. Hop out the window."
Eric helped the boy out of the window, and told him to go across the street to the growing crowd. People on the other side of the road had pulled over to help out at the accident scene.
Traffic had finaly come upon the accident, and a small line of people was forming behind the debris scattered road. The driver of the truck was already beging helped out of the cab, so Eric crossed back to where the girls were standing.
"How's everyone doing?" asked Eric to the curly haired man examining the unconsious girl.
"I'm not sure how baddly she's hurt. Her pulse is strong, and she's breathing." the curly man said.
"You a doctor?"
"No, but my mom is, and I've got her on the phone." he said pointing to the small dot in his ear.
"Help on the way?"
"I called the cops." a large man said from within the crowd.
There wasn't anything for Eric to do, after pulling the girl from the van, he was done. Before he was a half mile away walking towards home, sirens split the air. He waved to them, and gave them the thumbs up as they drove on the shoulder past the backed up traffic. Eric thought he saw one of them wave back.
He kept on walking until dark, where he sat amongst his things in his small makeshift camp. In his mind he calculated from the last mile marker, twenty five miles until he was home. Twenty five miles where anything could happen.