Vanagon

Mochi

  As Lucy drove to the closest store thought of delicious Mochi ice cream came into mind. Of course, she had to feed her munchies after smoking three blunts. She told herself she would ease off the drugs versus going cold turkey. As she pulled into the parking lot, she began making a mental list of the food she needed. Rice, beans, potatoes, jerky, oatmeal, honey, protein bars, gallons of water, coffee, mac n cheese, ramen noodles, some dried fruits, and almonds. Meals that didn't go bad and are quick to cook. She locked her new van and popped her collar to protect her neck from the cold wind. She walked, and her body felt as if it was on autopilot mode. She was just the passenger looking out the window, observing the scenery. As she walked into the store she grabbed a shopping cart. Leaning her upper body on the handlebars. Lazily walking, her gait of a fat cat after a big meal.

  Her eyes were half-lidded, and the sunglasses are covering her bloodshot eyes. She walked around smoothly, calm, even humming. Grabbing her essentials, she even passed by to grab a new jacket. In the end, she self-checked out her groceries. She seemed like a cool kid at school that other students are nervous around. Lastly, she picked up a pack of gum and popped one in her mouth. Enjoying the sensation of strong mint. She walked back to her van, and as she loaded groceries a man approached.

"Hey, you know where I can get some?"

She slowly turned and looked at the man. In simple words, he seemed like a redneck.

"Somewhat?" She snapped back.

He licked his lips as he looked her up and down.

"Some thick ass." He said smirking.

Lucy finished loading her groceries, closed the door, and slowly turned to face the stranger.

"Thick ass? Hmmm."

She calmly reached into her jacket.

"Well I'm not sure where you could get that, but I know where you could get some metal."

"Metal? What the fu-"

He was interrupted as Lucy pulled out a knife. His eyes grew, he seemed like a deer caught in headlights. Lucy is a calm cat about to catch her prey.

"Now if you wanna walk away in one piece, I suggest you leave right now."

Her words were collected and calm, the point of the unknown seemed scary to the stranger. He stood petrified, his eyes fixated on the knife.

"Well?" She raised an eyebrow.

He turned and quickly walked away. She folded the knife and returned it to its rightful place, inside her jacket. Lucy jumped into the driver's seat, popped a pill, and drove. After a few miles outside the city, she pulled over onto a dirt road and parked. She went to the back where her groceries were and began to organize. She felt so relaxed, the weight of the world floating. Soon she realized she had finished. Another thing to cross off her mental list. Next? Investigate what highway to take. She sat on the couch, whipped out her phone, and stared at the screen. Her thumbs were ready to type but her mind wasn't. She stared at her phone for five minutes. Blacked out, staring but not really. She leaned into the couch, her body sagging. She felt as if the couch was engulfing her, melting. At this moment she realized she was too high.

"What do I do know?" She softly mumbled to herself.

She lifted her phone, and in softly spoken words she gave commands.

"Call Frank."

"Calling Frankie boy." The phone responded

"Are you regretting this trip now? Missing this old man?" Frankie answered.

Lucy took a ragged breath.

"Lucy?"

Now Frank was concerned.

"Fra-" The rest of his name stuck in her throat. Her eyes began to water as she stared at the ceiling of her van.

"I'm here Lucy."

The soft worried voice of a father came through the phone. Lucy's eyes began to water. Her body begged for more air. A few minutes passed this way.

"Where are you, Luz?"

In the distance, the jangle of keys was heard. She hung up and sent her coordinates to Frank. She sat there, the word 'Anxiety' floating. A bad trip from encountering the stranger from earlier. Her mind had wandered to the dark corners. She sat paralyzed, and soon the weight of her body leaned her to her side. She felt alone, her fingers twitched for a blade. Her forearms were hungry for more tally marks. Who knew how long she lay there. Minutes perhaps an hour? She cared less and continued to stare blankly. A fuzzy yet soft sound of the Vanagon's door sliding open. The van shifted as the new weight came in. The couch soon folded open to a bed. A rough hand wiped away her tears. Frank sat next to her, he waited with her. The sun went down and he still waited. Frank grabbed a blanket from one of the cabinets. Tucked Lucy in, and took her shoes off. He waited in the dark.

He thought about how fragile she was, how tough she seemed. How much she needed this trip. But she didn't know how much she needed him. To sit there with her as she had anxiety attacks. To keep her in check with how much drugs she was consuming. But he's too old to travel, that part of his life is over. His form of vacation is sitting at home in his boxers a bottle of whiskey and a good western movie. Someone else needed to go with her. To listen, sit, hold, and no matter how stubborn she gets, simply stick around. Frank laid on his back, his old body telling him to sleep. But his mind fought to stay awake, for Lucy.