The Suicide Checklist

Chapter 7 - Where's the Road... Road... Road?

"What the hell's goin' on? Are we under siege?" Jared mumbled as the shaking car jolted him awake. "Is it morning? It doesn't feel like morning."

"No, we're not under siege." I said, eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. "I just drove over a fuckin' curb. But yeah, it's morning."

"Oh," he said rubbing his eyes underneath the sunglasses he slept in once again. "You're a worse driver than me. How was the sunrise? I used to like sunrises and sunsets."

"No sunrise yet. Still dark."

"Aww, that's not morning. Morning starts at four AM.

"It's still dark at four AM."

"Hey, Siri. What time is it?" His Apple Watch fed him the time. 3:37 AM. "Huh. Could you not sleep?"

"Not particularly. Plus, I wanna get to our next spot by sunrise."

"Ahh," he said. "So you're a twilight person as well?"

"Not really. As far back as I can remember, I've never seen a sunrise once. That's why I wanna see one before I die."

"Never seen a s— My God... I'm gonna paint this next one for sure. Goddamn love sunrises," he said fishing around in his bag.

"Even though I've only seen sunsets, I guess I'd have to say I'm more of a dusk person."

"Perfect!" He held a few brushes in one hand and continued sifting through his bag. "We're Yin and Yang. It's the Way. We were meant to meet."

"You think so?"

"Maybe."

"But you can't be sure?"

"Exactly. Aw!" He must've remembered somthing, 'cause he dropped his brushes and began searching his bag with both hands. "D'you, uh... Um... You ever read Murakami novels?"

"No," I said. "I don't really read much. Nothing wrong with it. I guess I just... I don't know."

"Well, there's this one book he wrote. And I brought it with me. It's my favorite book. Called Hear the Wind Sing. Anyway, in it, these two characters, all they do is drink beer and and exist. Nothing happens. Just drink-drink-drink-drink-drink. But it's really deep. It's so shallow, it's deep. Y'know that kinda shallow? Y'know what I mean?"

The frenzied way in which he was speaking really sold me. I thought at first, he may've just liked Murakami 'cause he was one of those 'deep' authors. But he seemed authentically enthused just thinking about the book.

"Dammit. If I could find the thing..." he mumbled as he continued searching, knocking things around, spilling other things out from his bag. "Anyway, in it, one of the characters says he took up only speaking half-truths. Anything he felt or thought, he would only admit half of."

"Is that so?" I tossed out pointlessly.

"It is. And I bring that up because our differing preferences on sunrises and sunsets seems like Yin and Yang, the Tao, the Way. But I can't be sure. It's sort of like the half-truths this character admits to. I've tried to take this half-truth philosophy and apply it to my life. I stand on the fence with regard to everything." He whipped out a book from the bottom of his bag. "Here it is!"

Even from the corner of my eyes, I could see he held the book with such care and pride. It was only for a brief moment that I looked away from the road only to wish I hadn't. We didn't crash or anything. I just saw the book he was holding was a copy of Are You My Mother? A very baby duck book to possess.

"I regret to tell you this is not Hear the Wind Sing," I stated, returning my eyes to the road. "Although the sentences are probably just as simple, this isn't even a Murakami novel." I dragged it on. I really wanted to build up tension to see how he reacted when I told him what he was holding so I could figure out if he was just screwing around or not. "What you are holding, Jared, is Are You My Mother. A children's book."