The huge windshield was like a movie screen and he could see Xavier and Dennis standing on the grass to the side. The tow truck’s flatbed slid down, making a ramp as it hit the ground with a loud metal thud.
“I told you this was a bad idea.” Liz’s voice was distant
March 8, 2013
Shredded and frayed rubber belts hung under the engine onto the asphalt like a pile of black, sinewy guts. A thin, gray spirit ascended from under the hood with a lingering smell of burnt copper. Three boys and a girl stood together before the white cargo van. Its huge glass headlights glossed over in the chill autumn morning. The cars whipping by on the interstate made strong gusts of warm air and shook the four people standing on the shoulder. The girl wore jeans and a dark sweatshirt. She latched onto one of the boys, merging herself with his black hoodie. A flatbed tow truck with flashing yellow lights pulled up in front of the van. It reversed then stopped less than ten feet away from the small group. The truck driver waited for a speeding SUV to pass and pushed his door open. He hopped out, letting his pudgy body bring him down and walked toward them.
“Which one of you is Xavier?” his tone matter-of-fact and without a trace of empathy.
“I am. We spoke on the phone,” Xavier said. His olive complexion and long black hair looked peculiar against his factory-faded denim jacket. Only the darkest threads stood out against the lighter ones and he blended seamlessly with the gray clouds and asphalt.
“Alright. I just need you to sign this for me. Any of you need to get anything out first?” He handed Xavier a piece of paper and looked around at everyone. His eyes seemed too close together on his small face.
“All of our equipment is in there.” Dennis spoke up for the first time all morning, his voice tight. The two other boys turned to him and the tow truck driver abruptly narrowed his gaze. Dennis stood frozen in his oversized white parka like he had interrupted a funeral. “I want to get my iPod,” he said finally. His shaggy blonde hair tussled in the turbulence of a passing big-rig and he moved to the broken van.
“I only have room in my cab for two people so two of you will need to ride in the van,” the driver spoke, breaking the awkward silence.
“In the van?” Xavier said, handing the driver back his autographed form.
“The garage is just a few miles off the interstate. Only about fifteen, twenty minutes.”
Dennis returned with his iPod and white earbuds tangled around his neck. “What did he say?” he asked no one in particular.
“Or you can wait for a taxi,” the driver said. “Your choice.”
Xavier turned to the boy in the black hoodie who hadn’t said anything and shouted over the crescendo of a passing car, “Marc, Do you and Liz want to ride in the van?”
Marc held Liz’s hand and she wrapped both her arms around his. They were woven so tightly together they looked like two heads popping out of one enormous sweatshirt. Her long, dark hair whipped through the air and stuck to her face. “Yeah, we’ll go,” he spoke loudly. His voice carried a faint echo in the vacuum of sound left by the car before another big-rig barreled through.
The tow truck driver shouted back, “Alright, get in now. And don’t sit in the front seats. Sit in the back where no one can see you.”
Marc and Liz walked to the van and he tugged the sliding door open with his free hand. It was heavy and the rusty rollers scraped through the dry, dirty tracks. Liz uncoiled her arms and stepped up into the van. Marc followed and slid the door shut with a loud whoosh and a clunk, instantly cutting off most of the noise from outside.
Inside was much quieter. Some warmth still lingered but would soon be completely gone without the heater running. Marc and Liz settled into the bench seat in the middle. A black steel cage divided the windowless van in half and separated them from a tightly packed menagerie of guitars, speaker cabinets, and drums. Marc buckled his seat-belt and looked at Liz. “Are you cold?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Here, wrap yourself in this.” He reached under the seat and handed her a flannel blanket that had been rolled into a ball. She covered herself and leaned into Marc. His clothes smelled like a well-used bed pillow. The huge windshield was like a movie screen and he could see Xavier and Dennis standing on the grass to the side. The tow truck’s flatbed slid down, making a ramp as it hit the ground with a loud metal thud.
“I told you this was a bad idea.” Liz’s voice was distant, even now inside.
“What?”
“This trip. This tour. It was a stupid idea. We should have just split up months ago and called it quits.”
“This was Xavier’s idea. Not mine.” Outside, chains scraped the pavement as the driver began connecting them to the van’s front end. Lights on top of the truck’s cab spun wildly, throwing uncontrolled yellow shards.
“He should have played bass himself then.” Liz watched the driver through the windshield walk back to his truck and tug a red lever. An electric motor started to whiz up.
“Well if you didn’t want to come, why did you? You’re the one who’s pregnant.”
Liz peeled herself from Marc’s shoulder and shot up against the wall. “Are you kidding me right now?”
The electric motor buzzed faster like a wasps nest as the van jolted forwards and climbed up the ramp. Liz braced herself against the back of the driver’s seat. Marc’s seat-belt pulled tight across his waist. “I don’t want to start another fight with you,” he said. He sounded defeated already.
“You told them I was pregnant and didn’t want to go on another tour. You told me you were going to quit. And here we are anyway. You’re magical.”
“Denny doesn’t know.” There was trepidation in his voice.
“What?”
“Denny doesn’t know you’re pregnant. I only told Xavier. I wanted this to be fun, like always.” The van rolled up the ramp and everything inside slid to the back. Liz still had her back against the wall and was holding onto the driver’s seat headrest.
“Are you having fun? I hope you are. At least one of us should be having fun.” Suddenly they were both bounced in their seat as the van lurched forward and the ramp slammed down onto the tow truck’s back with a thunderous boom. Liz’s face remained still like nothing happened. She glared at Marc.
“You’re being unreasonable. I just -” Liz cut him off.
“No! I’m sick of your bullshit! You can’t be trusted. You and Xavier. The hell with both of you! It’s always the band, the band, the band! Were you really going to quit or did you forget to tell me that too?”
“I just thought the band meant more to you. I thought it meant something to both of us. I was going to tell them after this tour. I didn’t want to shake things up.” The electric motor’s sound changed to a thick clanking. The chains tightened and pulled the van’s belly down close to the truck’s flatbed to keep it from moving. The motor stopped.
“In case you didn’t notice, the tour is over. Why don’t you get out and tell them now?” Poised like a cornered mongoose, Liz never took her eyes off Marc and waited for a legitimate answer. Marc sat still taking long, deep breaths through his mouth and slowly turned his attention away from her. Outside he saw the driver jump back into his seat. Xavier and Dennis were getting in on the passenger side. Dennis turned and smiled at Marc and Liz, giving a big thumbs-up before Xavier yanked him into the truck. Both doors shut simultaneously and they quickly pulled out, back onto the interstate. They were moving and the yellow flashing lights turned off. The van swayed and bounced independent of the bumps in the road and the empty driver’s seat made it feel more like a carnival ride. They picked up speed and the trees outside transformed into green smears as they passed. The truck’s diesel engine was a dull drumming somewhere ahead. Marc turned to Liz. She was looking out the window too. They watched through the windshield silently and slightly disoriented. They felt as if they were being carried on water.
Marc put his arm around Liz and pulled her in close. She burst into tears.
“I can’t. I can’t do this.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, sobbing. “This wasn’t my choice.”
Marc put his hand on her belly and felt the small bump underneath her sweatshirt. “Stop it. We’ll be okay. It’s over now, you’re right. We’ll get the van fixed and then we’ll go home. It’s over.” She stopped crying and twisted her arms around his again. She sniffled. “When we get home we’ll tell Xavier and Denny we’re out and that will be it.” Marc put his hand on Liz’s head and let his fingers fall through her soft hair. “We can paint the practice room together and get it ready for the baby.”
He looked out the front window and was captivated by the way everything seemed to pass them by. He watched the tops of smaller cars come up quietly beside them and go on ahead like curious, little fish. He could see clear over the tow truck’s cab and the road up ahead but had no idea where they were going. Liz fidgeted in his arms and tried to make herself comfortable. He unbuckled his seat belt and hugged her closer.
“It’s over now,” he said.
