One Stupid Thing

2:8:70

As we approach the wetter part of the road, John B slows the van.

"Ah, crap! The tide!" Pope exclaims, sticking his head up between the front seats and blocking everyone else's view once more. "Oh, this doesn't look good."

"How deep is that?" Kiara asks, peering through a crack.

"I dunno. The road's gone," John B replies.

"Gone? As in completely nonexistent?" I ask.

"Affirmative." John B shifts gears and the van comes to a sudden halt.

"Tide rose a little faster than I thought it would," JJ says.

"Just a little bit," John B adds.

"Uh, John B, how high are the spark plugs?"

"Uh, they're good. We're fine," he replies unconvincingly.

"No, how high are they?" JJ asks again, more persistent this time.

"Oh um." John B leans out the open drivers window and looks back. "Uh, just above the taillight."

"Okay, so that's what, three feet?" Pope confirms.

"That's three feet, yeah," JJ tells him.

"That water can't be three feet deep." Kiara pushes Pope down by his shoulders to get a better view.

"Then what's the problem?" John B asks.

"Not a problem. No, we're good. We're good. She'll make it," JJ tells him, although the seems to be trying to convince himself more than his friend.

"Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen, fasten your seat belts. Hold on to something. We're going into hyperdrive."

"We're totally screwed," I groan. I frantically grab onto JJ's seat once more. His jacket is the only thing stopping me from freezing, but I can't help but feel bad that he is only in a tank top with an open window blowing cold air on him.

"I'll say a quick prayer," JJ jokes halfheartedly. He touches each shoulder, his forehead and his chest per tradition.

"Three, two, one." John B grunts with effort as he slams on the gas, however the Twinkie had grown stuck in the mud as we sat here, and it struggles to move forward as intended. However, as John B continues on, the van gains traction and begins to move.

"You got it! You got it!" JJ shouts excitedly, but it seems more likely that he is cheering for the Twinkie, rather than its driver. "Faster! Faster!"

The Twinkie reaches the flooded ground, and as we speed through water sprays up on both sides of us. John B's knuckles are almost turning white as he jerks the wheel every so often to redirect the van on the right path. "Woah! Woah!" he says.

"Speed is your friend. Speed is your friend, John B!" JJ repeats, drilling the phrase into his friend's brain.

It seems like we might just make it through this flood and the drier land grows ever closer. We start to cheer, but our celebration is cut short when the Twinkie slips and swerves off of the beaten path and into the woods.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" Sarah exclaims. Her eyes are squinted shut in fear as she holds on for dear life. John B slams on the breaks, causing us all to lean forward abruptly. "Ah, shit!" my sister winces. A terrible bubbling sound commences as the Twinkie sits in the water.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," John B panics.

"I think we miscalculated," Pope points out. Sarah mocks him by holding up her fingers and gesturing as if to say 'just a little bit.'