Dear Secrets, Please Fly Quietly

13) The Drive

A new wave of panic hit me: Dread. What was Apollo going to do? My hands and feet drove onward but I was not longer part of the process. I was going because I had no reason to stop and there was nothing to do. Every ten seconds or so I expected some catastrophe to strike, but nothing happened. Once, after about an hour of driving, I stopped to steal a bottle of water and a sandwich from a gas station. As distracted as I was, I didn't trust myself to be able to fill up the tank for the same price. I drove on.

I continued, selecting the roads that looked interesting. Some of these included one that had a piece of tire on the shoulder and another that had two green exit signs above it instead of the usual one. Yes, my life was incredibly exciting!

Despite what I though was careful rationing, the water bottle was empty in half an hour. It was very hot, which is to be expected at noon on a highway with no shade. An hour later, I was forced to stop and go to the bathroom. I was so tired of being a mortal.

I stared into the mirror, my face dripping wet, for a good ten minutes straight. Unanswered questions swirled in my mind until it ached. Finally, I rested my head on the sink, hoping the smooth, cool surface would help clear it. After an impatient twenty seconds, I picked myself up and moved, partially so some guy who probably thought I was a drunk could get to the paper towels. I sat on the floor under them and watched him dry his hands and leave. Because he was moving and therefore interesting, I replayed the scene in my mind over and over long after the door closed. No one else came in, and I closed my eyes to think.

I only thought of one thing: look at the man sitting, dry your hands, leave. Look at the man sitting, dry your hands, leave. Look at the man sitting, dry your hands, leave. If only it was that simple. Look, dry, leave. Look, dry, leave. Look, dry, leave. I looked at the man sitting, I dried my hands, and I left. I did these three things in a perpetual loop until the door opened. Another man entered and came over to me as I was drying my hands. He shoved me to the ground, and began kicking my feet over and over, all the while saying 'Hey! Hey! Hey!'. His voice was faint at first, but it grew louder as time went on until he was screaming.

"HEY!"

I opened my eyes, jolting. I blinked, looking up. There was a person there. He was not the man who looked at me sitting. This man was much older, maybe 70. "Where am I?"

The old man answered gruffly. "On the bathroom floor. Get up, son."

My back ached from small tiles digging into my spine as I slowly shifted and stood. My legs forgot what standing felt like and it took me a few seconds to remember. "What time is it?" I asked feebly, rubbing my eyes. The light in the bathroom was very harsh.

The old man checked his watch. It was odd, seeing a shiny new watch clasped around a wrinkly, weathered wrist. "Quarter to six." Without another word, he left and I followed shortly afterward. It was always weird when two people leave the bathroom at the same time.

I got back in the car to find what the man said was true. The clock read 5:47 pm. It was very hot, which is to be expected at noon on a highway with no shade. But it was almost six! And the sun was still at high noon. I began to worry as I got back on the road for another close to two hours. The sun had not moved.

The outside temperature had climbed to 101°F by the time I reached Albany, New York. It was now 8 o'clock, but the sky said noon. I paid for a hotel room with money I had stolen from a woman's purse left unattended in her car. The car was locked but the windows were down. The next morning, the sun was still in the same place. I took a muffin to go from the hotel and got back in Percy's car. He was probably wondering where it was by now. The sandwich I had forgotten about from yesterday tasted like cardboard, so I threw it away. Besides, I had a muffin.

I drove the three hours back to Percy's apartment. Well, I started it. The sun cast a glare on the windshield, making it difficult to see. I was tired of driving and the muffin only left my mouth dry. I needed water. I dreamed of fountains, and the ocean, and swimming. Also, lakes and sprinklers. Sounds of splashing filled my ears, along with the rush of Niagara Falls. I followed the twists and turns of the Amazon in wondrously wet bliss until one of the bends became too sharp.

Unknowingly, I was twisting and turning the wheel of the car in my ecstasy. I had yanked the wheel too far to the right and in my panic slammed on the brake. I began to spin into other lanes, cars thankfully swerving around me. Before I could collect my senses, I lost them again in the face of an 18-wheeler. A truck that size had no ability or time to swerve like the smaller cars.

The last thing I remember is the sound of breaking glass and crunching, scraping metal mixed with the smell of blood and more pain than I have ever experienced in my life.