Every summer for as far back as I can remember, my family and I always took a long journey to Belfast to visit our relations. Did we fly? No that would be too easy and a waste of money.
On one particular trip we set off very early in the morning expecting a two to three hour journey. It was my dad. my brother my brother , my two sisters and me. As a normal family there was always a brawl over the passenger seat. It was almost a game of survival of the fittest. Only we would all survive but end up quite upset except for the victor. So off we went in our seven seater, with a few minutes delay and me as the victor of the passenger seat.
Somewhere on the highway in the midst of county Meath, the wind started to pick up and the exhaust from the catalytic converter was wafting through the window. The smell had a dusty gritty quality. As I reached to close the window my brother asked 'what are you doing?' 'Closing the window' I replied. 'no you're not' he said.'Yes I am' I snarled, in the process of closing the window, 'Dad, tell her I want the window open' shouted my brother. 'It's too hot in here'. Our dad ignored us and continued to concentrate on the signs on the road. The argument heated up and both of my sisters joined in. 'That is enough!' yelled my dad and the window was left half open.
An hour later or so it seemed the rain pelted on our windows almost blinding our view of the road. It started as a few drops but suddenly turned into a hard downpour. I sighed, this was Irish weather obviously. The sign on the highway confirmed that we had just entered county Louth. 'I need to use the toilet' said my brother. 'I'll look for an exit replied my dad. It took us over thirty minutes to find an exit and locate a passer by's service. It was a truck stop with a miniature dilapidated shop near it.
We pull into a truck stop because two of my siblings need to use the toilet. The truck stop is rancid. i'll spare you the details of this health code-violating structure. My broter and sister walk in the direction of the shop leaving our dad to deal with the petrol.
The door pinged announcing our presence. There were two men in the shop. Only one of them looked at us while the shop keeper continued stacking items. 'Hey come look at these magazines' said my sister, Amira. I walked up to her to have a look. I snorted. These were second hand, almost four year old pieces of garbage. Then I realised, what would you expect anyway in a derelict place like this. I walked on-wards gliding my hand across the shelves paying little attention to anything until a voice caught my ear. 'Who are the passer-bys?' asked the costumer. He was wearing black overalls stained with dirt. 'I don't know ' replied the shopkeeper. 'They look like a bunch of runaways' continued the man. 'Even the man looks a bit fishy'. That was it, I had enough. Hot in the face, I angrily walked out not looking back once and banged the car door shut without talking. Our dad turned on the engine and we drove off.
