Domicile: Under Reconstruction Part 3
Days passed, and the small hours where people sleep & dream, Ralph had another very vivid dream. It started very much the same: all was grey grass, then with the road came black & white, sensations of warmth & wind rushing past. Again finding himself in the backseat, Ralph resolved to stop being a passenger in his own life and become its driver instead.
The moment he made this decision, Ralph began to hear music. It bothered him a little at first, the sudden jarring nature of sound. Besides that, the daytime heat suddenly increased with the vibration of it, and Ralph felt like he was being blasted with hot air. It buffeted his face, shot up into his nose and dried his breathing passages, making him cough a little. He struggled to climb over the front seat, then the road suddenly got rough and bumpy, jarring Ralph. In his unstable position, he fell backwards into his previous position. Glaring, Ralph threw his weight forward, his momentum returning him to an upright sitting position. His anger grew as he thought of the car actively trying to keep him down- like everything else in the whole wide world.
"You aren't going to stop me."
Ralph's left hand clamped the side of the front seat firmly as he kicked his right leg forward, hitting the dashboard. The car seemed to shudder in response- or was it the bumpy road?
Ralph then reached his right hand out to the steering wheel, which suddenly turned, jerking itself out of his grasp. The car suddenly diverted from the main road into the field- thick grass buffeted the car, spraying Ralph's face with some kind of pollen, immediately making him sneeze. Still, Ralph's left hand held firm, his mind recalling faintly a memory of his father that Ralph had tried for years to suppress; gritting his teeth, Ralph raised his right hand as his watering eyes locked on the steering wheel. Like a cobra ready to strike, he held it poised in that pose as he watched the wheel intently. It seemed to be nervously turning itself from time to time in fear of his grasp.
"It wants to keep me in it's power, this car- this extension of society's status. All those people who used to spit on me, throw full drink cups and even lit cigarettes on me, this car represents their privileged status...THEIR PHONEY STATUS!!!"
Ralph's cobra hand struck, latching hard onto the steering wheel, which tried to buckle out of his grasp- but Ralph was experienced now, and had studied this thing enough to anticipate the panic- the panic he had so often seen in the eyes of those who rely on status, who turn desperate and terrified upon being deprived of it. Ralph increased his advantage by clamping his left hand on the steering wheel as well. He thought he heard the vehicle groan in dismay upon this. Ralph's left hand had the strongest muscles in his body, and his grip with his left hand was amazingly strong- born of anger and the desperation one experiences when fighting for one's own life. His father had inadvertently taught his that lesson one horrible night... the important thing was, the adversity had made him stronger, at least the part of him that had faced it.
Out in fields of Mumsville's outskirts, Ralph Balmont steering the car more like a horse than a mechanical vehicle, holding firm but not too tightly, lest his arms go rigid and become inflexible. Sections of densely overgrown land that was going unused would crop up... even the occasional fenced-in field with a horse or two would go by. Large trees were gradually becoming the dominant feature, blocking off sections of land for a time when farmers used them to form boundaries for their property- now both the farmers and even their farms had become as rare as horse-drawn carriages. Dirt roads began to appear in varied frequency- some would dart away from the paved road out towards other places unknown- other adventures, yet to be explored. Many of these dirt roads had simplistic metal gates- some secured with a locked chain- that would snake off into unseen territory. Some of them looked benign, some rather foreboding. At about this time, Ralph began to get an almost imperceptible feeling he was now heading somewhere- somewhere specific, even familiar- and as it gradually built, little by little, he thought he might just let go of the wheel and left the car take over... it seemed neither he nor it really wanted to reach their destination.
But, why?
It was the feeling he was having- now quite strong, almost like a thick layer of sweat on his hot skin- that made him dread it; yet, paradoxically, this only made his resolve all that much stronger. Curiousity, a grim sardonic sense of humor, and a flame of defiance to this adversary he was now steering goaded Ralph on to keep going all the way. Even if he may regret it, he would see this through to the end.
At this point, the car reached the outskirts of the property of the Balmont estate. Once the car stopped, Ralph staggered in disbelief from it and fell to his knees, gazing up at it, mouth agape. The feeling was now a mix of intense nausea and dread. Ralph just couldn't take his eyes off it, the horrifying red shade that seemed to pulsate from every inch of the structure.
It was at this point Ralph's overwhelmed mind forced him, in his panic, to bolt upright in bed. His heart was pounding, his pulse was rapid, and his was drenched in sweat. His left hand suddenly twitched involuntarily, clenching into a tight fist. Ralph calmed himself, staring as his fist as his breathing returned to normal.
Click to viewThe moment he made this decision, Ralph began to hear music. It bothered him a little at first, the sudden jarring nature of sound. Besides that, the daytime heat suddenly increased with the vibration of it, and Ralph felt like he was being blasted with hot air. It buffeted his face, shot up into his nose and dried his breathing passages, making him cough a little. He struggled to climb over the front seat, then the road suddenly got rough and bumpy, jarring Ralph. In his unstable position, he fell backwards into his previous position. Glaring, Ralph threw his weight forward, his momentum returning him to an upright sitting position. His anger grew as he thought of the car actively trying to keep him down- like everything else in the whole wide world.
"You aren't going to stop me."
Ralph's left hand clamped the side of the front seat firmly as he kicked his right leg forward, hitting the dashboard. The car seemed to shudder in response- or was it the bumpy road?
Ralph then reached his right hand out to the steering wheel, which suddenly turned, jerking itself out of his grasp. The car suddenly diverted from the main road into the field- thick grass buffeted the car, spraying Ralph's face with some kind of pollen, immediately making him sneeze. Still, Ralph's left hand held firm, his mind recalling faintly a memory of his father that Ralph had tried for years to suppress; gritting his teeth, Ralph raised his right hand as his watering eyes locked on the steering wheel. Like a cobra ready to strike, he held it poised in that pose as he watched the wheel intently. It seemed to be nervously turning itself from time to time in fear of his grasp.
"It wants to keep me in it's power, this car- this extension of society's status. All those people who used to spit on me, throw full drink cups and even lit cigarettes on me, this car represents their privileged status...THEIR PHONEY STATUS!!!"
Ralph's cobra hand struck, latching hard onto the steering wheel, which tried to buckle out of his grasp- but Ralph was experienced now, and had studied this thing enough to anticipate the panic- the panic he had so often seen in the eyes of those who rely on status, who turn desperate and terrified upon being deprived of it. Ralph increased his advantage by clamping his left hand on the steering wheel as well. He thought he heard the vehicle groan in dismay upon this. Ralph's left hand had the strongest muscles in his body, and his grip with his left hand was amazingly strong- born of anger and the desperation one experiences when fighting for one's own life. His father had inadvertently taught his that lesson one horrible night... the important thing was, the adversity had made him stronger, at least the part of him that had faced it.
Out in fields of Mumsville's outskirts, Ralph Balmont steering the car more like a horse than a mechanical vehicle, holding firm but not too tightly, lest his arms go rigid and become inflexible. Sections of densely overgrown land that was going unused would crop up... even the occasional fenced-in field with a horse or two would go by. Large trees were gradually becoming the dominant feature, blocking off sections of land for a time when farmers used them to form boundaries for their property- now both the farmers and even their farms had become as rare as horse-drawn carriages. Dirt roads began to appear in varied frequency- some would dart away from the paved road out towards other places unknown- other adventures, yet to be explored. Many of these dirt roads had simplistic metal gates- some secured with a locked chain- that would snake off into unseen territory. Some of them looked benign, some rather foreboding. At about this time, Ralph began to get an almost imperceptible feeling he was now heading somewhere- somewhere specific, even familiar- and as it gradually built, little by little, he thought he might just let go of the wheel and left the car take over... it seemed neither he nor it really wanted to reach their destination.
But, why?
It was the feeling he was having- now quite strong, almost like a thick layer of sweat on his hot skin- that made him dread it; yet, paradoxically, this only made his resolve all that much stronger. Curiousity, a grim sardonic sense of humor, and a flame of defiance to this adversary he was now steering goaded Ralph on to keep going all the way. Even if he may regret it, he would see this through to the end.
At this point, the car reached the outskirts of the property of the Balmont estate. Once the car stopped, Ralph staggered in disbelief from it and fell to his knees, gazing up at it, mouth agape. The feeling was now a mix of intense nausea and dread. Ralph just couldn't take his eyes off it, the horrifying red shade that seemed to pulsate from every inch of the structure.
It was at this point Ralph's overwhelmed mind forced him, in his panic, to bolt upright in bed. His heart was pounding, his pulse was rapid, and his was drenched in sweat. His left hand suddenly twitched involuntarily, clenching into a tight fist. Ralph calmed himself, staring as his fist as his breathing returned to normal.