The Open Road

Chapter 2-2

“Hello, America, Jason O’Neal here again. So, as promised, it’s day two of my video log. Not really sure what to call this journey just yet. Maybe ‘Jason’s Lost His Mind—North American Tour’ or something like that. Everyone around here seems to think that’s exactly what’s happened. Anyway, like I said before, I don’t really care. I’m going, and I’m taking Bethany and the girls with me—their memories, anyway—and no one is going to stop me. But I thought I’d introduce you to someone before I leave town.”

Jason turned the camera, and another man came into view. He was a little older than Jason, probably around thirty, but had his same dark hair and blue eyes. He wore a faded T-shirt bearing the words “Mountain Life,” plaid shorts, and held a leash at his side. Attached to the leash was a short, wrinkled, brown-and-white English bulldog. “Not this guy,” said Jason, holding the camera out and indicating the man with the leash. “This is my brother, Jordan. No one cares about him.” Jordan waved goofily at the camera. “Now, normally I’d say he’s a total douchebag, but he’s doing something extremely un-douchey right now, so I won’t mention it. But I’m talking about this little guy right here.” Jason squatted down to pat the bulldog, which promptly rolled onto its back and wiggled back and forth as the man rubbed his stomach. “This is Frisco, my bulldog. It’s was Hannah’s dog mostly—our oldest. Bethany convinced me to get the dog for the girls after Chloe was born. I’m so glad we did. When Hannah got sick—” Jason’s voice caught in his throat. He paused for a moment. “We had to take her out of daycare because her immune system was so compromised. This dog was her only friend. Well, this guy and her sister, of course. Somehow Frisco knew Hannah needed him more than the rest of us. They bonded, and he never left Hannah’s side except to go out and use the bathroom. Even then, she wanted to take him out for walks. I let her sometimes, but she was weak, and she couldn’t stay out in the sun too long because of the medicine she took.” Jason started tugging on Frisco’s ears as the dog playfully chewed on the man’s wrist. He looked back up at the camera. Fresh tears had appeared in his eyes, but his voice held steady. “This guy hasn’t been himself since the accident. Every afternoon, he still goes to the door at the same time, waiting for the girls to get home from daycare. He whines and scratches at it when they don’t show up.” Jason stopped and took in a shuddering breath. “I’ve been really torn up about whether I should take him with me. I know the trip would do him some good just as it will me, and he’d probably love it. I can just see us flying down the highway with the windows rolled down. He loves to stick his head out the window and let his big lips and tongue flop in the wind.”

As if to prove the point, Frisco stopped gnawing Jason’s wrist and began panting. His wide mouth opened and an overlarge tongue fell out, dropping drool all over the tile floor.

“I know he’d be great company on the trip, but I also know every time I look at him I’m going to think of Hannah, and that’s just too much for me. Way too much. I hate to leave him behind, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to have him around right now. So, I’m leaving him with this goober.” Jason stood and slugged his brother on the shoulder. “Which is actually a form of punishment, really. I lived with this slob for fourteen years before he went off to college, and it was not easy.”

“Hey, it was no picnic for me either, little bro,” said Jordan. “He still borrows my stuff without asking,” Jordan said, sticking his face up by the camera.

“Get back,” said Jason, pushing him away. “You don’t want to scare the people with that mug of yours. There might be kids watching this.”

“Ha-ha,” came Jordan’s deadpan response. “Seriously, though. Don’t worry about Frisco. I’ll take good care of him. And he will be here when you get back. You can leave him for as long or as little as you need to.”

“Thanks, big bro,” said Jason, and he grabbed Jordan in a hug. After a few moments, they released one another, and Jason turned back to the camera.

“Sorry you guys had to see that. Didn’t know it was going to get so mushy all of a sudden. I’ll try to avoid sappy scenes like that from here on out, especially with him. Oh, and one more thing before I go. Wanted to announce the results of the poll. Looks like I’m headed west. You guys voted, all three hundred and forty-two of you, to send me west. Not sure why west won out, but it did with thirty-eight percent of the vote, so that’s where I’m going. South came in second, for those that are curious, with twenty-percent of the vote. Not sure why that matters or even why I bothered to mention it, but there you go.

“Three hundred and forty-two votes isn’t exactly going viral, but I was shocked even that many people saw the video. I was expecting one or two, to be honest. But that doesn’t matter. I’m not doing these videos to get famous. I don’t care if too many people watch them. I’m just doing this so I’ll have some documented memories of the trip. And I’m also thinking that maybe, just maybe, there is someone else out there watching who’s hurting like I am. Maybe these videos will help them somehow. I don’t know. Plus, talking to the camera, it kind of makes me feel like I’m talking to Bethany, if that makes any sense.” He huffed. “It probably doesn’t. Anyway, I’ll see you on the open road.”

The video stopped.

Hmm, west and south. Sounds like Jessica and Charity were on the same page with the rest of America. Samantha shook her head. Psh, those three hundred and forty-two people were probably just those two voting over and over again on different devices.

“What’s that you watching?” said Tran loudly as he popped up beside her and peered over her shoulder. Samantha yelped and jumped into the air, almost dropping her phone in the process. Tran’s voice had only two volumes—loud and angry/loud. Even though he was only set on loud right now, she was still caught off guard. Conversation with Tran was like going into battle. You always had to be aware of your surroundings and keep your defenses up. Samantha heard the man and woman sitting at a nearby table giggling.

“Hey,” Samantha said, “how about not sneaking up on me?”

“You white girls startle so easily. Calm down.”

Samantha thought she heard one of the people sitting at the table spit out their coffee in shock. “Number one,” she said, “that’s racist. Number two, anyone would startle with you jumping out of nowhere and yelling at them, and number three, how about a little privacy?”

“Tran not yelling,” countered the coffee shop owner. “Tran no like repeating himself. Tran speak so people hear. You white girls all mumble. No one understand you. Speak up, speak up!”

“Once again, racist.”

“Tran not racist,” said the shop owner. “You white, you mumble. I just put two and two together.”

“Whatever,” Sam replied.

“Now, what so important you on the phone during working hours?”

“Uh, how about you mind your own business?”

“It happen in my shop, it my business. Now, you tell Tran what so important.”

Samantha saw the couple in the dining room openly watching her and Tran now. They were clearly quite entertained. Samantha ignored them. “Fine, what do I care?” she said. “It’s a video my friend sent me. Some guy is taking a trip around the country to honor his dead wife and children, or so he claims. I think it’s bogus, personally.”

“Bogus? What you mean, bogus?”

“Well, this guy is probably just selling something or trying to get internet famous. You know how people are nowadays, trying to get their fifteen minutes of fame.”

“You let Tran see. Tran is good judge of character.”

Samantha punched the play button on her screen and handed the phone to Tran. She walked away and returned to cleaning the tabletops, having no desire to watch the video a second time. After a few minutes, she heard the video stop. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but look up to Tran to see his reaction. Tears filled the man’s eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked. “You too? You’ve got to be joking right now.”

“Tran never joke,” he said harshly.

“I don’t doubt that,” Samantha said. “But you really think this guy is for real?” Samantha saw the man and woman sitting at the table pull out their phones and start punching the screens.

“Of course he real. You see how much he love dog. He good person, beautiful spirit.”

“How much he loves the dog? What are you talking about? I thought you hated dogs.”

“Tran love dog. Tran hate dog in store. People eat here. No dog allowed. Dog hair in Caesar wrap no good. Tran have three dog at home. Dog stay there. No come to store.”

Samantha raised her eyebrows. Sound logic.

“Well, I think the guy is full of it,” she said.

“He no full of it. You full of it. He has good heart. You have heart like marble statute.” Tran turned to the couple sitting close by. “She have heart like statute,” he said to them as an aside. With that, Tran handed Sam back her phone and returned to the kitchen.

Samantha mumbled to herself as she wiped down the tables. “I don’t have a heart of stone. You have a heart of stone, you crazy old bastard.” The young couple couldn’t contain their laughter.

“Tran hear that,” he yelled from the kitchen. “Tran have excellent hearing. Tran no crazy bastard. You crazy bastard.”

Samantha just shook her head and wiped her tables. The shop got busy around lunchtime but tapered off again mid-afternoon. Casey, the other weekend employee, came in for her shift at 2:00 p.m. She and Sam exchanged a few pleasantries, but nothing beyond small talk.

Shortly before Sam’s shift ended, Jessica and Charity walked in. The two women looked like they should be sauntering down a runway instead of casually walking into a small-town coffee shop. Jessica’s ebony skin and almond eyes put Sam in the mind of a Nubian princess. Charity, with her bleach blonde hair and blue eyes, looked every bit the bubbleheaded Valley girl, but nothing could be further from the truth. She was shrewd as a serpent and didn’t mind mixing it up with anyone. They were both dressed for a night on the town.

“Wow,” said Samantha, her face brightening at seeing her two friends. “Is there a magazine doing a photoshoot close by? Two of their models have apparently escaped.”

“Well, we do try,” said Charity as she mimed brushing invisible lint from her shoulder.

“And here I am covered in coffee stains and ranch dressing,” said Samantha, feeling terribly inadequate next to the two taller, thinner women.

Charity put her arm around Samantha’s shoulder. “You make coffee stains look like a million bucks.”

“Whatever,” said Sam.

“No, she’s serious,” offered Jessica. “You’re gorgeous. I mean it. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

“How’s your day been?” Charity asked.

Samantha’s face scrunched up in disgust. “My stalker showed up and informed me we have a long, happy future in store for us, after I told him in no uncertain terms that we would never be together.”

“You need to report his ass to the cops,” Charity said. “The creepiness is escalating. That’s what happens right before he kidnaps you and makes a necklace out of your toes.”

“Okay, thanks for that. You aren’t creeping me out at all,” Samantha said. “I don’t know if he’s dangerous. But he’s persistent, I’ll give him that. If he shows up at my apartment, I’ll call the police, I promise.”

“Said every abducted female ever,” Charity added.

“Anyway,” said Samantha, ignoring the sarcastic remark, “where are you two off to?”

“No, it’s where are we three off to, and the answer is Club Sprocket, as soon as you go home and get cleaned up. Not saying the coffee stains don’t look great on you, but they may not be the best thing for attracting a member of the opposite sex.”

“I’m not trying to attract a member of the opposite s*x,” said Samantha. “Weren’t we just talking about a member of the opposite s*x wearing my toes as a necklace? Why would I want another one of those?”

“First, the ones we are going to attract aren’t the kind that chop off your toes,” Charity said.

“Guys, could we lay off the toe chopping talk?” Jessica asked, cringing.

“And second,” Charity continued, ignoring Jessica’s question, “that is exactly your problem. You need to be on the lookout for a non-toe chopping man and realize there are good men out there. It’s past time.”

“Not interested,” Sam said. “I’m fine on my own. Other than my stalker, I’m in a good place right now.” The words fell as flat as a corn tortilla as soon as they left her mouth.

“She no fine,” Tran yelled from the kitchen. “She terrible. She need man. She pathetic, like old washer woman.”

“He’s not wrong,” said Charity smiling.

“He is wrong,” argued Samantha. “Everything is going my way right now.”

“Uh-huh, so when you get off work you’re not going to go straight home to your tiny apartment, order a pizza, binge watch some reality TV shows, drink a bottle of wine alone, and hope your toe chopping stalker doesn’t show up?”

Dammit. Charity knew her entirely too well. “No,” Samantha replied. “I will not be alone. I’ve recently purchased a new pet, a beta fish, and his name is Fred, and he can’t be left alone for very long or he gets moody. So there.”

“Fish suck!” came Tran’s booming voice again. “His name suck, too. Fred. Who name a fish Fred?”

“Shut up, Tran!” Samantha yelled. The truth was, she didn’t have a fish. It was the only thing she could think of on short notice. She was barely keeping herself alive, so she certainly couldn’t be in charge of another living creature, even a fish.

Jessica leaned against the counter. “Girl, you’ve been busting your ass working two jobs for far too long. It’s time you had a break. Come out with us tonight. Nothing crazy. Drinks, dancing, and unlimited appetizers. It’s exactly what you need. No men allowed, if that will make you feel better. We’ll shoot them all down. Girls only.”

“Not that I’ll be attracting much attention from the opposite s*x anyway,” said Sam.

“You would with a couple of excellent wing women like us,” said Charity, motioning back and forth between she and Jessica.

“Yeah, right,” said Sam. “I’d be like a caterpillar in the middle of a couple of butterflies.”

“Uh, hello…” said Charity, “Who snagged Jeremy Johnson right out from under my nose in our junior year? I caught you two snogging under the bleachers. You knew I liked him.”

“Only because I happened to catch him in a vulnerable spot after Whitney Peeler dumped him. If he knew you liked him, he would have run right past me to get to you.”

“No, not true. I knew when I’d been bested. Sometimes, you just have to tip your cap to the better woman.”

“Yeah, yeah, you all beautiful.” Tran came bustling out of the kitchen. “You all bunch of flowers. Now you get out. Tran can take no more. Samantha, you leave early today. You go have fun. You like a sad donkey, scare away all Tran’s customers with your mopey-ness. This coffee shop, not suicide counseling center.”

“Can’t argue with that,” said Jessica.

Samantha shrugged, resigned to her fate.

“Thanks, Tran,” said Charity, planting a sloppy wet kiss on the shorter man’s cheek.

“Yuck, white girl germs.” He moaned.

“Try these then,” said Jessica, kissing his other cheek equally as sloppily.

“Yuck, black girl germs.” He moaned again.

Charity and Jessica giggled as they ushered Samantha out of the shop before she could think of any more objections.