Words Have Power, They Are Magic Pt 13
The sound of shifting gears woke me up. I sat up on and watched as an ancient truck loaded with hay went pass. I rubbed my eyes and grabbed for my bottle. It was empty. I took another bottle from the backpack; unscrewed the top and took a drink. A big drink. Then another before recapping it. Soon my hands stopped shaking and my head started to clear. I started to remember a bit of last night. Something about a wolf that changed colors and told me about the magic. It was fuzzy, but it felt more real than imagined. I shrugged got up and started walking.
I walked, stopping only to take a drink from my bottle and maybe to take a piss. I was getting hungry but not really. I had nothing to eat anyway. I laughed at myself for talking to at the cattle that sometimes watch me walk by, probably the most excitement they seen besides feeding time. They were good shrinks, though, as they listened and made no judgments, giving the occasional moo to encourage me. As I walked by each herd, I told more and more of my life. It was strangely cathartic. Eventually I ran out of cattle and started to go by sheep herds. They were no good. I opened my mouth and the first sound out of my mouth the sheep would spook and run off.
With nothing to talk to, feeling hungry and the sun starting to go down, I decided that where I was, was a good place to stop for the night. I sat down and was in the process of getting my bottle out when I heard a car come down the road. A car? Besides the truck, this morning there had been no traffic. Nothing. None. Zilch. Not a single car. I had gone by several farmhouses, they had vehicles out front but no one seemed inclined to go anywhere in them. There had been nothing but me and the bugs and the occasional song of an unseen bird. And here was a car coming down the road. I want to hide, but there was nothing to hide behind. There was a small ditch but I no way was that going to hide me. Crap.
I had nothing to worry about though as the car did not slow down and went past me. Good. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I had no way of explaining what I was doing out here or even saying where I was going. I prepared to lie back using my backpack as a headrest the bottle in my hand when a large bang startled me. I jumped up, ready to fight. I did a 360 looking for the enemy. No enemies, no Charlie, just the car that had gone past, rolling to stop on the side of the road. With a shattered tire.
I watched as the door open and a woman stepped out of the car. She walked around to where her tire had blown and stood staring at it. She kicked the pieces of rubber still hanging on to the wheel, then walked to the back and opened the trunk. With tire iron in hand, she walked back and I watched as she tried to undo the bolts. I almost laughed as she tried to use her legs to stomp on the iron. As funny as it looked, I struggled inside. I did not want to help anyone with anything. When the car went past I was ok, the driver anonymous. Now, however, there was a woman in a short skirt, struggle to change a tire. The gentleman in me was insisting I get up and help. I sighed. Fine, I will help. I got up and when I had my balance back, I walked to the car.
It didn’t take long to change her tire. Her was a young bleach blonde named Denice. She made the joke that her uncle had named her Denice when she told me her name. She asked my name and then asked where I was going. I was kinda stuck, I had no idea but for some reason I could not tell Denice that. New York was the only thing that came to mind and I blurted that out. She grinned and then informed that that was where she was going of all the coincidences. She had a scholarship to New York school of arts and was on her way there. She was not an actress as I immediately thought but she was singer, of opera. I do not know, she kinda looked like a porn star to me. She had big boobs for sure and one of those pouty mouths.
I found myself on the way to New York in a 10-year-old Toyota with a small spare tire, one of those donut things, on the right rear. Because of that weird tire, (why doesn’t anyone have real tires as spare?) we had to go much slower than she wanted to go. She tried to get information to me, asking a lot of questions that I deflected. Who was I ? What did I do? Why was I going to New York? Great question actually. After being unsuccessful in the small talk, she started to talk about herself, then she talked about opera, and then she talked about her pets. The woman just talked. A lot. She talked until we came to a small town. There was a garage but it would not be opened until the next day. She went to get a room. I had little money left and decided I did not want to spend it on a we-leave-the–lights-on motel room. I slept in the car.
The next as we sat at breakfast she started talking. She talked about how lucky she was that her daddy could wire money to the motel so she could pay for tire repairs. She talked about when the garage would open. She talked about how good her breakfast was. She talked about the décor in the restaurant. The woman talked about everything and anything. Happily, there was a reprieve when she went to see if the garage was opened and get her tire repaired. I was able to finish my coffee in peace. In fact, I had two cups of coffee and when she still had not shown up, I got up and left. Thankful for the quiet, I started to walk down the road. I had not gotten far when there was a honk. There she was, waving at me. I sighed and got in the car.
As soon as I closed the car door, she took off and started talking. I had never seen a person who could talk so much and talk about nothing. She talked for a hundred miles straight. After seeing a sign for a rest area, I begged her to stop. Please? I had to go. She did and if it wasn’t for my bum leg I would have ran to the boys room. I sequestered myself into as tall and l pulled the bottle out of my backpack. I took a long drink. Then another. I thought that, maybe, if I just stayed there she would get bored and go away. Probably not though, for some reason we were now friends. Or as Denice said, “isn’t it funny how you met good friends in the strangest places.”I was pretty positive that Denice was the kind of friend who would get concerned, march into the boy’s rooms, and retrieve me. I looked at the bottle not much left so I decided to finish it. I put the empty bottle behind the toilet got up and flushed. Figured it would look a little weird if I left the stall without flushing. To finish the illusion I went to wash my hands. I tried to look at myself in the piece of shiny metal nailed to the wall that passed for a mirror; I decided that I would tell little Miss Can’t Shut Up about the power of words, their magic. That always seems to shut people up.
As I walked back to the car, Denice asked if I was ok, she was worried. I knew it. The kind of friend who worried. Yippee. After we got back on the road, I turned to her and started to talk about the power of words. I told her about the magic. I told her how writing the words really released the magic and that by saying them did the same but not as bad. Or so I thought, I told her about my experiments with saying the words. When she started to agree with me, to tell me what she thought, I asked her if I should try again with speaking a wish. She agreed.
I thought on what it was I could wish for. As I thought, I went to wipe my mouth with my sleeve and caught a whiff of myself. I stank. I could not remember the last time I had showered or bathed. That was it! I grinned at Denice and told her to pull over. I got out of the car. I looked around and it seemed so big. There was no homes, no cars, nothing, nowhere I looked. It seemed big and empty it was perfect. I said very loudly, ( it was big)
“I wish it would rain!”
Denice standing next to me laughed and pointed out that there was not a cloud in the sky. I said yes but just you wait. And wait we did. Denice had unbeknownst to me gotten some food at the garage. She brought it out and we lunched on crackers and peanut butter, we ate some cookies and drank little cans of chilled coffee. I was thinking it was not going to happen and obviously, Denice did not think so either as she stood up and brushed her rear end off. Well, she said, perhaps we should go. I peered at the sky, not a cloud anywhere, so I agreed and we got into the car.
Denice started the car and instead of pulling onto the road, she just sat there. I turned to look to see why and there was a large truck coming down the road. It was on of those that carried milk or molasses or something. I was a bit surprised. We had seen nothing for most of the day, but now there was a truck. Maybe it was milk from one of the diaries we had passed. There had been a few. It got closer and as it passed us I read, Raindancer Dairy on the side. The truck passed us and we were covered in little white dots. The truck had a malfunctioning valve or something and it rained milk upon us as it passed. I laughed.
“It’s raining!” I shouted at Denice.
She nodded, “It is. But I thought you meant rain rain. Not milk!”
“I didn’t say rain rain, I just said rain.” I laughed and continued. “See I told you! Words are powerful, they aremagic!”