Wasteland

Props & Mayhem

I still hurt inside, but I bitterly ignored the cloying emotions tumbling and wresting in my gut. Two day and it didn’t get any easier. The Wyoming prairies rolled by in the dying light. But my eyes only stared unfocused out the window. Time elastically stretched and shrank in the car until five minutes seemed like two hours, and, paradoxically two hours could feel like five minutes. I sighed and chewed the inside of my lips. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Mike.

Jamie had turned the music on to a Classic Rock station and was singing along. How everything still turns to gold. And if you listen very hard the tune will come to you at last. Merida, behind us fiddled with her hair tie, shooting it at the ceiling a couple of times. When she got really bored, she’d repeatedly slap her skin with it until the smarting, stinging skin turned red. I felt both of them send concerned looks over at me, as if they were appraising the damage.

“Oh, shit…” Jamie’s eyes bulged as he looked at the dashboard.

“What?” Merida quickly undid her seatbelt and leaned between us to see whatever the problem was.

“Well, in the last town we had a full tank and now…” Jamie bit his lip and his finger nervously drummed on the leather wheel.

“And now we’re stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere.” Merida frowned ill-temperedly. “Again.”

“There’s a town pretty close. Probably an hours walk. With any luck, we’ll get there before nightfall if we walk.” Jamie said, consulting a map. He dragged his finger across the surface with furrowed brows. Merida didn’t respond, but opened the door and began walking.

“Girl’s a firecracker. Got a healthy temper if you ask me.” Jamie noted before getting out the door to follow her. I took my last second of peaceful rest before joining. My tense, sore legs protested. During the drive, much of the adrenaline had settled and now my ankle twinged in pain. I scowled. I twisted it when I jumped from Merida’s hotel window. And now I was going to feel it. For this hour long walk. Great.

Merida dropped back beside me while Jamie led the way a few paces up. He seemed to be giving us a little space. “Hey, Vic.”

“Hi.” The faltering light made for a cool breeze on my skin. I knew what she wanted: a heart-to-heart. I didn’t, though.

“How are you feeling?” I could feel her eyes like a physical touch on my face. It caressed down my cheek.

I shrugged, “Fine, I guess.”

“I know that you don’t just feel fine.”

“Then why ask if you already know the answer?” I said gruffly and twisted my mouth as if the words were sour on my tongue. “Besides, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah. And you didn’t want your brother to die.” She said a bit too forcefully. I cringed. She paused for a second, either realizing what she said or letting it sink in. I didn’t know what to respond to that, so I said nothing. “Look, that was harsh, I know, but this needs to be talked about. You can’t just bottle this up. Because no matter what you try to stuff your pain in, it’ll always break, and you’ll just be left with the same horrible feelings. But if you confront them now then it won’t hurt so bad later on.” She said softly.

“Then why don’t you ever talk about your mom?” I questioned. She flinched, my words a stinging slap.

“That’s different.” She muttered tonelessly.

“Really? How?” I demanded. My insides bristled a little irrationally; she was just trying to help, but she was being a hypocrite at the same time.