Redemption

~17~

John sang loudly.

The window rolled all the way down, face slightly sticking out of it .... like a dog reaching for the wind.

His voice ripped from him as the jeep ploughed the roads. Issy driving, present beside him, listening intently to the great Lennon's private concert. Seemingly just for her!

He grinned at her; like a kid he was sometimes she thought. Such a smile he had, a knowing but ultimately bright happy open smile.

Stopping for pumpkins and fruit, John watched her choosing the perfect produce.

A smell, a slight squeeze, an 'o' of lips and a lovely smile - it was like watching fucking porn with fruit. Gee he needed to get laid. He turned from the obscene fruity scene and watched the farmer lazily strolling his eyeballs up and down her body. Stepping up to Isabelle like some kind of caveman possessed, he hooked an arm through hers and started to squabble with her over the price of the string beans. The farmer gave up, moving his gaze away, watching the clouds instead.

Onwards towards the city, John watched her fingers grasping the steering wheel.

So sure he was...that she was mighty pleased he was pissing off back to town. He leaned back in his own world and watched the mirrors reflection bounce off the roof of the cab.

She slowed the truck, indicating her intent and when John sat up a little Issy was pointing toward a park bench under a huge shady tree. A toilet block stood ugly in the rear of the scene. Now, why would they ruin such a picture, with shit.

An open field of green beckoned him and as Issy slipped the cooler from the rear of the jeep John took off, galloping headlong through the waving green fingers of growth.

Issy grinned down into the depths of the cooler not wanting him to see her laughing at his antics. He looked like a nymph dancing about, hands waving like a fairy ready for flight. He must have known he was putting on a show as he glanced her way more than once.

Hand on hip and one stretched across her forehead guarding her eyes from the sun she waited for him to run out of steam.

How did a person go from high to low then back again, an arch of emotions, a concourse of thought's both good and bad. Issy whistled and waved, if he didn't come soon this 'sit down picnic lunch' would be takeaway on the run.

"Hey! Have fun?" Issy grinned over the cup she handed the winded runner.

"Yea. you should have joined me!" John turned back toward the fields and leaned against the post, sipping more teabag tea and munching a sandwich, quite content.

"Apple for the drive?" Issy replaced the cooler's contents, offering an apple.

"I'd like a peach"

"Sure, I'll grab one and we can hit the road, jack!" Issy smiled and climbed in the driver's seat, handing the peach over.

"I was supposed to drive" John grumbled as he sunk his teeth into the perfect peach, Issy sat watching him, smiling at the dribble threatening his shirt.

"Not until you eat that mister Lennon" Issy beamed at him. He was such a child in ways, endearing himself easily when at other times you could throttle him for the way his eyes burned your soul and his mouth teased you senseless.

She handed him a napkin.

They swapped seats eventually and Issy thought she would be involved in another accident, he hadn't been out this way before. So every field colour change, every farmers roadside trolley plus every single farm animal- cow, calf, sheep, horse, would have him pointing out what Issy was well used to.