The Road To Nowhere

eva - seven

When the service was over, we were forced into pleasantries with Aunt Beth and some of Neil's father's friends. The funeral reception was held at Aunt Beth's home, a ranch-style house on Shirley's dusty outskirts.

One of those grocery-store veggie trays was set out on the counter, untouched. Aunt Beth told stories about her brother in high school. They were winding anecdotes that seemed to have no meaning or direction. His friends prattled about long games of poker and barroom brawls, subjects only sweaty, macho men seem to find admirable.

I knew Neil wanted to leave by his constant, longing looks at the front door. After about an hour of obligatory conversations and back-pats, we were able to make our escape.

We sat together in the car momentarily, brooding in silence. Neil's eyebrows were furrowed as he pensively gazed out the windshield.

"So that's it?" Neil said, his voice toneless. "He's dead? Gone? Buried?"

"I guess so," I stated, without making eye contact.

He grunted. "This doesn't seem right."

I put forth my best effort in solacing him. "I know it doesn't. But over time, you'll start to accept it."

I acted as if I had extensive experience with death, even though the only family members I'd really lost were a dog and a grandfather I wasn't particularly close with.

"It just feels like he's still here. I keep thinking he's going to come up behind me and slap me on the shoulder and ask if I want a beer at any second."

"You saw his grave," I offered. "They lowered him into the ground."

"It was a box," he said. "They lowered a box into the ground. Not Dad. I didn't see Dad."

I didn't say anything else, accepting that he wasn't going to budge. I wished I could say more, but there were some things words can't express. It seemed that this was one of those instances.

"I think I should go back," he said.

"Back? To where?"

"The trailer park. Where we lived."

"Okay," I said.

I was curious to see where he grew up, but I didn't understand why he wanted to go back.

From the house, the car pointed itself through the town, idling through skeletal trees as rocky roadsides.

My mind went back to Neil grasping my hand during the eulogy. There was a detectable lack of emotion in everyone in attendance, from everyone other than Neil. The service had been about as poignant as a business meeting.

There was a wooden sign in front of the trailer park, white and brown campers parked in rows atop the dirt ground. The car rolled over the gravel, descending into the city of parked campers.

Neil's breaths grew more clamorous as he yielded in front of a derelict white camper with a navy stripe at the far corner of the park. I made eye contact with him. His eyes were agape, the ragged breathing sending a trickle of cold down my spinal cord.

"This is it," he said, swallowing a glut of air.

"You lived here?"

"Until the day I turned eighteen."

We examined the van for a while. Neil's breathing quickened rapidly. He began hyperventilating.

"Shit," he muttered.

He pressed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth together. His jaw was tense enough to cut glass.

"Can I tell you a story I've never really told anyone?" He asked.

"Of course," I replied.

Neil sighed.

"Well, once, when I was eight, I woke up in there and my dad was gone. I looked everywhere for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere. I even asked some of the neighbors if they'd seen him, and... I was so scared, I..."

He trailed off.

I tried to imagine the terror of waking up to my parents vanishing without notice, the helpless feeling of being sucked into the ground. Especially being as young as he was.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he grunted, messaging his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He didn't finish the story. "Just memories. Bad memories."

I snatched his hand from his lap and pulled it toward mine. It was like a chunk of melting ice, slick with a layer of sweat. "It's okay."

"I-I feel kind of faint. I think we should go. This was a bad idea."

"Yeah, okay," I agreed. "Do you need me to drive? I can if you want."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just a little shaken up."

"Alright."

The engine rattled and sputtered when he clicked the key into the ignition. He practically tore out of the trailer park, the car jerking back and forth.

As we traveled down the road, unease sizzled in the pits of my chest.

Neil's eyes were flat and hazy, lips parted.

Little by little, the car began to veer off the road, headlights tipping toward the dirty shoulder. My stomach jumped into my throat.

"Neil!" I shrieked. "Stop the car!"

He didn't stop. The car kept milling toward a roadside tree.

"Neil!" I yelled, "what the fuck are you doing, stop!"

I reached for the steering wheel as he regained his senses at last, slamming his foot down onto the brake pedal, the tires skidding as the car jolted to a stop.

"What is wrong with you! You could've got us killed!" I screamed before I even had time to think of what I was saying. He cowered, flinching at the elevation of my voice.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to... I thought..."

My insides liquified with his words, the apologetic glint in his eyes like a trampled puppy.

"It's fine." My heart was skipping. "Just let me drive. Please."

Submissively, he surrendered the car keys and went around the back, while I climbed in the driver's side. My lips compressed into a tight line as I pulled the car back onto the road.

The hotel was stagnant when we returned. I took his hand, and guided him back to the room. His cheeks were rosy and his steps were wearisome. We entered the room and he sat on the bed once again, his hands like leaflets over his eyeballs.

"Oh, God," he said. "What if I killed us?"

"Look," I said. "You're in a shitty place right now. I shouldn't have let you drive."

He wilted onto his side, lying on the bed like a dead rose. His feet were still dressed in the brown oxfords.

"I could've killed us," he groaned. "What if I crashed into a tree or something?"

I approached him and laid my hand on his leg.

"You didn't," I said. "It's over now. Try to rest."

I went into the bathroom and changed out of my dress, a jumbled mosaic of the day's events forming in my head. I frowned in the mirror, recalling the funeral, and our ill-fated visit to the trailer park.

When I exited the restroom in my sweats, Neil was beneath the sheets of the bed with the waxy gleam of a cadaver.

"Evie," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Could you lie here with me? Just for a minute?"

My stomach fluttered, tender and buttery from his request. His display of such vulnerability shocked me, as well as flattered me, in a morbid way. I was the only person he'd chosen to reveal this facet of himself to. Part of me didn't know what to do with such an honor.

With caution, I crept into bed with him, not even getting under the comforter. His suit jacket, pants, and tie were mangled on the floor, leaving him only in his button-up and underwear. His bare legs brushed up against mine, electricity shooting through my veins.

"Come closer," he rasped. I obeyed, slinging my arm over his lanky body and closing my eyes, the deep darkness sliding over me as I held his body to mine.