Roadtrip

I closed my eyes and let myself emerge in the smells and the sounds around us. The humming of the engine, the sweet dusty smell of the dust clouds that the tyres left behind us, suntan lotion and a faint scent of really old and worn leather and stinky feet. I felt as peaceful as I’d ever been, even though the last smell wasn’t the best one in the world. 

He was watching the long and lonely road, but I could tell he’d been looking at me when I opened my eyes again. He had the vacation look down pat, a three day beard, old faded t-shirt, shorts, sandals and sunglasses on his slightly sweaty nose. He turned up the radio.

Familiar twangs of country music filled the air. It seems that country or religious broadcasts are the only two types of radio stations you can get when you drive along the backroads. I didn’t mind, country felt like the best soundtrack for the dust clouds and tumbleweeds we saw. 

We didn’t really have anywhere to go, we’d just go where the road and mood would take us. And by avoiding the interstates, we knew we would see plenty of new or out of our ordinary things. 

Our first stop of that day was at a local diner in a small town. We were seated in a booth at the end of the long dining hall. The place was half empty and the only sound we heard was the ceiling fan, murmurs from the few people that were there and the soothing sounds of people cooking in a stainless steel kitchen. The rattling of pans, glasses tinkling and the occasional bell that food was ready for service. 

The waitress brought us our water glasses with the obligatory straws with only the tip of the paper wrapping left on it. We still had no idea what to order, even though the menu wasn’t that extensive, so she left us again. The menu mainly contained burgers and a few sandwiches. Nothing really appealed to me, so I decided to go with a cheeseburger and a small salad. He ordered the tuna melt with fries. I never understood the combination of warm tuna and cheese on bread, but he seemed to love it. He’d ordered this very same thing in about every other diner we had lunch at. 

While we waited for our food I looked around. The tiled floor was a bit grimy. It probably wasn’t really dirty, just worn by years and years of people walking and food being spilled on it. The metal chairs with naugahyde seats were also worn, but none were broken and the fabric was still in tact on most of the seats. They were an awful dark mustardy yellow color though. The walls were covered with pictures of olden days, when the diner was filled with people, even some famous ones. The diner was the center of the small town back then. In fact, it still was, but only about a third of the population still lived here and therefore the diner wasn’t as crowded as it used to be.

Most of the patrons were locals. They looked at us with a mix of curiosity and a bit of suspicion. What were these two strangers doing here? In flip-flops no less! I smiled at an elderly lady who was looking at me. She quickly turned to her food and pretended she never looked in the first place. My smile broadened into a grin. 

Our food arrived and it looked as sad as I’d expected in a place like this. Dry bread, dry burger and dry lettuce. It did fit in with all the dryness that had surrounded us on the trip so far, but dry food is not very appetizing. Still. It was nourishment, so I doused the salad with plenty of ranch and ate it. I don’t have a refined palate, I don’t mind junk food, but he really lived for it. He told me he loved the fries and sandwich and never had had a better meal in his live. I looked at him, puzzled and decided to ignore the remark. 

The waitress stood at the elderly lady’s table and they were discussing what happened in the town that week. Other than the sudden passing of a guy named Joe and the ongoing draught nothing had happened. Exactly what you would expect in a dying little town like this one. 

I felt a sadness creep up inside me. The sadness I was trying to avoid feeling by going on this road trip. Too much had happened in the past couple of years and I needed a break from it. This is why I wanted to drive away, but apparently you can never drive away from the dark place in your heart. It comes with you wherever you go. I decided to try to ignore it once again. I had become very good at it. I’d call it the ‘ostrich-mode’. Stick your head into the sand and pretend that everything is okay. 

“Where do you want to go next?” I asked him. “Do we have any idea where we want to sleep tonight?

He chewed his last piece of tuna melt and looked at me, while thinking about my question. He swallowed the food, took a sip of his water and told me he had no clue. 

“Maybe this town has a motel or something?”

I really didn’t want to stay here. I needed a more vibrant environment to shake off the depressing feelings I had developed while eating my tasteless burger in this downtrodden place. I ran my hand through my blond curls and sighed.

“Why don’t we try to find the interstate? There will be more places along it where we can sleep?” And have a decent meal, I added in my mind.

“Yeah, but baby, we agreed to stay off those, remember? To see the real country and not only the neon lit fake version of it?”

“Well, apparently the real world is dusty, dry and tasteless,” I said sarcastically. “And I’ve seen enough dust clouds and tumbleweeds to last me a lifetime.”

He waved to the waitress and she slouched over to our table. With a quick glance at her name tag he started.

“Hi Constance. We were just wondering if you could tell us how far the nearest interstate is?”

“About three hours.” She looked disinterested but her job required her to stay and answer our questions. 

“Ah okay, and how far to the next biggest town? And how big is it?”

“That will be Roswell and it’s about an hour and a half drive from here.”

“Thank you Constance, we appreciate it.”

She mumbled something and walked back to the counter.

“Wanna go see some aliens?” he grinned.

“Yeah, sure, why not.”

He picked up the check and walked to the counter and I headed for the bathrooms in the back of the diner. 

While washing my hands, I saw my own reflection in the mirror. I looked tired, but tanned. Which was an improvement over the mousy grey look I sported before we started this trip. But the bags under my eyes were still there and the wrinkles on my forehead appeared even deeper. I splashed some water on my face, but that made me look even worse. I stuck out my tongue at my own reflection and walked out. 

He was already in the car, when I got there.

“Tank’s full, I got us some coffee to go and a bag of mint milanos.” He smiled brightly at me. Mint milanos were my favorites. And he always bought them to cheer me up. Which meant he must’ve picked up some of my sad vibes in the diner. A warm loving feeling took up the place of sadness. Better. I knew it would fade, but for now I tried to hold onto it for as long as I could. 

The road to Roswell seemed endless, Long stretches of farmland on both our left and right, sometimes with a cow or two, but mostly empty. Sometimes the long line of fences were interrupted by the entrance to a farmhouse, although we never saw the actual houses themselves. I quickly fell asleep, because of being tired and getting tired of the monotonous landscape surrounding us. 

My dreams on the other hand were vivid and vicious. I woke up to a warm hand stroking my hair. 

“Sweetie, wake up.” His deep warm voice had a worried tone in it. I opened my eyes slowly. 

“You were moaning and almost screaming there. Bad dream?” He was still stroking my hair and watched me with a concerned look. 

“I guess,” I mumbled. “I don’t really remember much of it. Where are we?” I asked while I sat up straighter in my chair. He had parked the car near a fence on this still enless road and I noticed two black cows coming towards us with their round ears pointing forward, giving them a curious look. I watched them for a few seconds. He was watching them too and took a long sip from his coffee. 

“We’re about twenty minutes from Roswell,” he answered. “I think you can see the UFO lights from here.” A short laugh followed his last sentence and I couldn’t help but smile. 

“Well, let’s go then. We don’t want to keep them waiting!”