More than Distance

34

The key unlocked the padlock and I flung the door open. Carla rushed out of a pitch black room and into my arms with a choked sob. A profound feeling of relief settled over me and I ran my hands over her hair and down her back. Carla wasn’t injured or kidnapped or in danger. She was here with me. She was safe.

“Ryan.” She buried her face in my shoulder, crying and trembling against me.

I held her tighter and stroked her head softly. I was shaken too. This was all my fault. I should have protected her better. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

For a few minutes I simply comforted her, rubbing her back as she clung to my shirt. Once she calmed down and stopped shaking, she looked up at me. “I’m sorry for crying on you. It was just so dark and small in there, and I was so upset with myself.”

“What happened?”

“Brenda and Ron asked me for help reading their map, then said they’d show me a scavenger hunt item they’d found as their way of thanking me. I followed them back here and they shoved me in that room and locked me in.”

“Those assholes.” Red hot rage replaced my relief. My hands turned to fists. If I saw those fuckers again… “They wanted us to fall behind.”

“Brenda seemed so friendly last night. I never thought she would try to trick me.” Carla ducked her face into my shirt again. “I’m too nice, just like you and Daniel said. Now we’re going to lose the game because of it.”

I took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. “Your kindness is one of the most admirable things about you. Never let anyone make you feel bad for being a good person. And we are not going to lose.”

She stared at me, clearly surprised by my words, and then took a long breath. “How did you unlock the door?”

“They left the key in front of it. Probably knew they’d get in trouble with the show if we couldn’t get you out right away.”

She straightened up and wiped at her eyes, putting on a look of determination. “We can’t let them win.”

“We won’t.”

We returned to the car and Carla found the snacks I’d bought for her. “You remembered my favorites after all these years?” She ripped open the bag of Fritos immediately. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I paused before starting the car. I was supposed to keep making her hate me, but I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out, “I’m sorry about last night.”

I couldn’t look at her, but I could tell she was watching me. I held my breath, waiting for her response.

“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole,” she said.

“I deserved it.”

“Yeah, you did.” She smiled faintly. “Apology accepted. Now drive.”

* * *

While we traveled down what used to be Route 66, Carla was vigilant about looking for scavenger hunt items. By the time we got near the next location, she’d already found both the tire on the side of the road and caught someone picking their nose while driving. We decided to skip the Meteor Crater since it was farther off the freeway and hit the Standin’ On The Corner Park instead.

We entered the small town of Winslow, Arizona, and I pulled over so Carla could get a photo. The tiny park was surrounded by a wall of bricks with a huge mural made to look like a reflection of the street, including the red flatbed Ford parked in front of it. There was also a statue of a guy with a guitar, under a road sign that said “Standin’ On The Corner.”

I squinted at the statue. “I don’t get it.”

Carla snapped another picture. “I think it’s from a song. I’d look it up, if I had my phone.” She sat back and sighed. “I miss the internet.”

“And music,” I added, as I navigated us back to the highway.

“Yes. That’s definitely one of the worst things about this road trip. I’d kill for anything at this point, even country music.”

“Damn, you must be really desperate. You hate country music.”

We launched into discussions about music and she talked about how both of her roommates were in Villain Complex. The band had really taken off in the last year. I bet if we turned on the radio right now we could find one of their songs on there.

“They have impromptu gigs in the apartment all the time. It’s amazing.” Her face fell. “Except all of that is over now. We’ve each moved out. Someone else is probably living in our apartment already.”

“You’ll find a new place to live after we win the million dollars.”

“I hope so.” She rested her head on the window, staring out at the endless blue sky. I thought that was the end of the conversation, but then she turned back to me and asked, “Why did you come on the show with me?”

I shot her a sharp look, then raised my eyes to the cameras watching and recording everything. “You know why.”

“I know you came on the show to help me,” she said slowly. “But I think there’s another reason too. Something you haven’t told me.”

I didn’t answer for some time. The show would capture all of this and I wasn’t sure I was ready for my personal business to be aired on TV. But maybe I needed to talk about it or something, because the next words out of my mouth were, “My dad has cancer.”

Her hands covered her mouth, barely hiding her gasp. “Oh no. I’m so sorry, Ryan.”

I nodded. “Lung cancer. From the smoking. Stage two.”