The Blue Car

  The moisture in the air surrounds me like a hot blanket. We roll down the windows in hopes of cooling off. We’ve been on the road for so long and our journey has just begun. This car stolen after the last heist, our getaway not being as we thought, and now we’re on the run

It was only fortunate that the owner of this blue compact left the keys in the ignition only blocks from the bank. The white interior soon spotted with blood. Who would have known that one of us would end up shot?

The car speeds through town after town: one small town after the next: mostly one light town with not much more than a Piggly Wiggly. The moans of pain fill the car as he comes closer to death.

After miles of classic rock blaring on the radio in an attempt to calm all of us I turn it down and then off. I look at Thomas and he looks at me. We know we have to stop but where?

As the car comes to the top of a hill I can see what we need. Ahead of us, at the bottom of the hill, is a motel. We pull into the parking lot as the sun paints the sky purple with the approach of dusk. Thomas runs to the office to pay for a room while I sit trying to calm the Andrew. He’s already dead. I mean there’s no hope for him.

Thomas returns with a key. Sweat dripping from his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. We drag Andrew up the stairs and into room 23. Late night television occupies our minds as the events of the past several hours come back to us. We walk outside and walk to the car. We don’t want to leave Andrew behind, but there’s nothing we can do for him. We told him that we’d be back for him, which we wanted to mean but knew that we would never see him again.

The car speeds off into the sunset. One of us left in some cheap motel to die we head toward the place we talked about going since we were children. Thomas and I plan our future together as stars dot the vast sky. Somewhere out there our future waits for our arrival.

The road is a long stretch of pavement. Classic rock fills the car. Our eyes heavy after so many hours on the road, we stop, and find rest on the edge of the highway. We close our eyes and dream as one.

Morning comes and soon we’re on the road. Classic road fills the car once more until the occasional bulletin about the robbery irritates us with their lack of accuracy. We drive in silence, woods surrounding us on either side, ominous clouds filling above us, and this endless pavement beneath us. The only sign of humanity we come across is a boy walking up the side of the road with a dog.

Besides the boy there are no signs of civilization on this long stretch of pavement. We could have taken the main highway, but Thomas swore that this road would be the best to take to avoid capture.

A slow rain begins. The drops hitting the roof of the car creates a rhythm. I look out as we pass through dense woods with the occasional dirt road reaching out into the wilderness. The car slows. I look at Thomas but he looks back at me with a blank face. 

A slow rain pours as the car comes to a stop on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.