The Death of a Giant

Chapter 8: A Stop at a Souvenir Shop

My mind began to wander and I found myself staring into Maureen’s eyes as she asked me to push her.  She was shouting it.

            “Push me, Ben! Push!”

            Suddenly my eyes opened and I found myself driving along the edge of the highway through the gravel.  My heart was racing and adrenaline shot into my brain forcing me back onto the paved highway.

            It was night.  My fingers ached from holding the grips for so long.  I had been riding for hours watching the smoke rise from the Corley Motors factory chimneys.  It was an odd feeling to know I had been inches from death hours ago and now I was once again riding toward death itself.  But I knew I had a job to do and I knew if I was to save the Polecats and Maureen, I would have to sacrifice all I had to do so.

            The road seemed to become less paved the further along I went and the closer I got to the factory.  couple miles back I had passed an official Corley Motors Smash-A-Torium “Wrecking Stadium” where brain-dead idiots go to watch other idiots run their beat-up cars into one another.  A lot of people die and a lot of other people scream and cheer while watching those people die.  Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

            I stopped when the pavement ended.  There was nothing but an open dirt field ahead of me.  I knew from experience that I was nearing Vulture country.  Vultures are crazy.  They’re obsessed with protecting themselves.  No one ever really knows where their hideouts are because nobody but the Vultures can get to them.  They’ve got mine fields.  The mines are hidden by small mounds of dirt.  You never know where they are.  The only way to ever get to where you want to go is to go around for miles out of your way.  I don’t have that kind of time. 

            There was no getting across.  I would have to backtrack.  Perhaps I was missing something.  There had to be a way to get across.  Perhaps an answer was waiting for me back at the stadium.

            At the stadium I drove my bike past security into an open cement hall with no issues because the first officer I met up with who demanded I park in the lot ended up with a broken face.  The others respected me and let me pass without incident.  I parked next to a beer tent and the man behind the counter demanded cash before I could drink.  He, too, mysteriously broke his face.  Today was shaping up nicely and it wasn’t yet five a.m.  I downed a couple shitty tap beers before I heard a shout coming from somewhere behind me.  One of the regular hawkers-of-cheap-shit was trying to make a sale to a group of people.

            He was shouting and tossing things in every direction like a monkey at a zoo discovering his own feces.  “Souvenirs here!  Drive your own derby car by remote control!  We got yer hats, we got yer pennants, we got it all right here!  Our robotic bunnies come with batteries included!  Loveable, loveable little bunnies.  The official licensed bunny of the Corley Motors Smash-A-Torium!  We got yer T-shirts here!  All sizes and colors!  Fill our handy beverage hat with your drink of choice!  You'll be keeping cold and looking bold!  You, big fella!  Come give our derby car a spin!”

            I’d had just about enough of his shouting and decided I would do something to his car just to shut him up.  I grabbed the control and started driving the car as far away from his table as possible.  I figured he’d eventually notice.

He was still shouting.  “Souvenirs to remind you of your special Smash-A-Torium adventure!  Buy yer kids a bunny so they'll shut up for the long drive home!  Don't be a cheap jerk!  Hey!  Stop driving that car so far away, it’ll go out of range!”  He grabbed the control from me and maneuvered the car back toward his table.  I took that opportunity to drop his opened cash drawer into my jacket and walk back to the beer tent to purchase a proper drink.