"Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today.
Just try those coconuts
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain't many nuts like they,"
Outside the confines of the little car, the deep and endless night continued to speed by.
Scab was cleaning their hands in silence.
Bill's eyes were glazing over.
Marty was still singing.
"We'll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing.
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today."
Scab kept glancing at the rearview mirror.
Bill's head was nodding against his seat.
Marty was still singing.
Then all of the sudden, there came a rather violent THUMP and the car bounced on its wheels. Bill, who had been gradually falling asleep at the wheel, was very quickly jolted awake. Marty's grand performance was cut off by his own squawk of surprise. And Scab immediately dug their chipped fingernails into the seat below them.
"What was that??" Marty asked.
"I think I hit something..." Bill said, slightly shaken.
He quickly pulled over to the side of the road.
Outside, the air vibrated with the voices of a thousand crickets and distant bullfrogs. Despite the wide, open fields stretching out on either side of the road, the darkness of the night gave the illusion that they were incased in a dome. Not a single other car was out on the highway, and the nearest town wasn't for another twenty miles. It was as if the entire world had condensed itself into a small stretch of road, with nothing beyond the veil of darkness.
In the bright spotlight of the car's headlights, two silhouettes stumbled about on the gravelly curb. Marty clicked his emergency flashlight a couple of times, and Bill let out a heavy breath in preparation for what he was about to see. Then they made their way around the back of the car.
All that was left of the animal was a pile of fur and small splatter of blood. Whatever it was, it had probably died without knowing what hit it. As soon as Bill saw the carcass, he groaned loudly.
"Ughh, damn it,"
"HURP!" Marty buckled over and puked in the nearby tallgrass.
Bill turned his flashlight onto Marty's pale face. As soon as he was done retching off the side of the pavement, he turned squinted at the light.
"Seriously, Marty???" Bill asked.
Still inside the car, Scab watched the scene through the rearview mirror. Bill and Marty were now arguing, presumably over the vomit or the dead animal, but their words were blurred by the metal walls of the car. After watching in silence for a moment, Scab reached into their backpack and produced a small bottle wrapped in cloth. Filling the car with the scent of chemicals, they hastily started wiping down the dashboard and steering wheel.
By the time Bill and Marty climbed back into the car, Scab had already tucked the cleaning solution back into their bag. Neither one paid Scab nor the chemical smell any mind. As they both drew their seatbelts like mirrored images of each other, their argument continued bouncing between them.
"--Hey, I said I'd take over driving if I could. It ain't my fault I don't have a license,"
"It is your fault, Marty. I've been driving since high school, and you haven't even bothered getting a learner's permit yet,"
"Standardized tests stress me out!!!"
Bill let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. However, his fingers left small smears of red on his face when he did so. Puzzled, he glanced in the mirror.
YOU ARE READING
Mile 15
Humor"Ridin' on down this ol' highway. Listen to what this Joe has seen. His story how he went astray, when he- Met the Devil on mile fifteen," Marty was voted "Most likely to become a pop-star" in his high school yearbook, but has yet to become anything...
