Worship And Other Love Rituals

Chapter 1

The minivan sputtered as we rolled past the "Welcome to Harmony Springs" sign, the peeling paint and faded lettering looking about as cheerful as I felt in that moment. I had one hand clenched white-knuckled on the steering wheel while the other shielded my eyes from the glaring afternoon sun. One glance in the rearview mirror at my pale son was enough to make my stomach twist itself into sailor knots.

"How're you doing back there, bud?" I asked Leo. No response except for a low groan. Poor kid hadn't said a word in the last hour, just clutched his abdomen and squinted out the window at the flat, empty fields passing by in a brown blur.

I couldn't blame him. It was hot as Hades out there, all shimmery waves rising from the pavement ahead. And the rattletrap AC in our junker of a minivan just wheezed air that was warm at best. At least having the windows cranked open created a cross breeze...along with letting in dust that coated my teeth and the squashed flies smeared across the windshield.

Real picture-perfect family road trip we were having here. Instead of everyone happily singing along to the radio, I was hunched over the wheel navigating this death trap down Interstate 40 while my son moaned like a dying cow in the backseat.

Somehow this wasn't how I'd pictured our journey to our new quaint small town life when I'd had one too many glasses of Merlot and clicked "Purchase" on that farmhouse listing late one night. The pretty photos had seduced me with visions of Leo frolicking outside a white-picket fence, ruddy-cheeked and laughing, while I baked pies from scratch and wore gingham aprons.

Ha. If only Real Estate websites required truth in advertising laws.

As we passed a crushed possum carcass at the side of the road, I cranked my window shut and glanced again at Leo. The poor kid was curled inward like a dried leaf, arms crossed over his middle. "How're you holding up?" I tried again. "Think you can make it a few more miles?"

Leo raised his sweaty face. "M'okay I guess." He winced. "Stomach just...hurts."

Aw hell. My mama instincts blared code red. No way could I let my baby boy be in pain like this one second longer. Time to find civilization and get this kid some medical attention, fast!

Luckily according to Google Maps, we were about to roll into the metropolis of Harmony Springs, population: 500. Or 501 now, I guessed, counting me and Leo. I squinted through the grimy windshield at the long empty road ahead, not a building or vehicle in sight. Real bustling place so far. But surely they'd at least have a pharmacy or general store to get us some Tums.

Ten minutes later according to the minivan's busted digital clock (which flashed the wrong time since the battery incident of 2018) I finally spotted the first indication of habitation: a weatherbeaten Texaco station, the red sign missing its A and half the C so it read "T xaco." My heart leapt.

"Whaddya think, kiddo? Wanna pull over and get a soda?" I said, aiming for a cheerful voice. "Maybe stretch our legs too?"

Silence behind me. I peered back to see Leo slumped against the door, eyes closed. His cheeks were tinged green beneath his mop of dark curls. Aw Jesus, no no no! My hands shook as I cut across the empty road to the gas station, a place I never thought I'd be so desperate to arrive at. Dust plumed up like brown clouds as I jerked to a stop by the pumps.

Before I even turned off the ignition Leo made a strangled noise then started violently heaving. "Oh honey!" I whimpered. No bags or receptacles close at hand, I watched helplessly as he spewed half-digested gummy bears all over the grimy floor mats just as the minivan shuddered to a stop. 

"It's okay sweetie, get it out," I babbled as Leo retched. I pulled his sweat-soaked curls off his forehead and ignored the putrid smell filling the vehicle. When the heaving finally ceased a few minutes later he collapsed back, panting and spit-covered.