[story] vacation
author: jaz templet (yachiru)
email: yachiru [at] gmail.com
The traffic jam was a horror show. Cars lined up like bodies in a Nazi death camp. The clock blinked at 12, its red light a dull, sullen reflection. It had been blinking that way for eons now. He should have had it fixed damn it. No time. There was never enough time. He knew they'd been in the line for hours. He peered over the sides of the cars, hoping for a savior.
No AC. The old battered minivan was painted a thick black, almost tar like. It seemed to soak up the rays of the hot sun. The gray cracked dash steamed under the constant heat. More cracks. More cracks.
He pressed his thick sweaty hands over his eyes.
Stings, doesn't it?
The sound of the motor running was constant. The dry, hacking sputtering. He'd meant to bring it in for a tune up. Never enough time.
"Harry, you wanna soda? We got some still in tha coola." His wife absently asked, rubbing her finger over his collar. Her eyes were vacant. Sheíd been into the valium again. Not too much but enough. Slurry words. Slurry deeds.
He sighed and looked over at her. She was staring into the side mirror, looking at the people behind her. His daughter made faces in the passenger mirror.
He thought his wife was acceptable looking. Diane had thin, spiky blond hair that drooped over her calm grey eyes. Her nose was twisted, she'd broken it a couple of times during her time as an amateur boxer.
"No thanks hun. Had beer a minute ago. Don't want to stop for a pisser again this soon."
"Pisser! Pisser!" His daughter screamed from the back seat. Her face was red, her mouth open. A constant siren.
She was odd. Beth Anne's features were too large for her face. Liquid
green gold eyes shone like a mother lioness. She'd fixed her hair into Shirley Temple ringlets. Diane had shown the little bugger one of her movies one night and she'd decided to change her hair the very next day. He'd thought the kids at school would tear her up but apparently she'd started a trend. Weird duck.
"Stop that, duck! You know how your mam feels about swearing." Diane swatted at Beth Anne and she stopped the screeching. Her brother snickered at her and Beth Anne poked him in the side.
His son was just the opposite of his daughter. Seth was so handsome the girls called all night and day. His hair echoed every other schoolmate's. One lock of ash brown hair swept daringly over his bright green eyes.
What was that noise he kept hearing?
It reminded him of the cat. Couple of years ago they'd had a kitten named Bu. He'd ran away and his daughter swore she kept hearing him. He'd shrugged her off but a few days later he'd seen fur coming out of an air conditioner vent. The kitten was dead in there, ripped to pieces. He told his family Bu ran away.
He looked at the radio, wishing for some music, something to take his mind off the boredom. Some tunes would have been a bit of a relief right now but all he had was the destroyed remains of the radio. It was almost concave from being hit. Electrical wires hung like tentacles.
The car started with a rumble. The radio kicked on, someone screeching about love or soda pop. He quickly changed it and felt a grin slash across his face as the opening from Iron Man came on.
"Nooooo! That was my favorite daddy! Turn it back! Turn it back!"
He turned the music up, hoping to drown out Beth Anne. She kept screaming. He wanted to reach back and hit her.
His wife thumped him on the shoulder.
"Honey, stop being a baby and let her listen to her song."
He hit the radio. Again. Again. Until nothing but silence was left.
Some bright idea. A trip to Florida today. Sun, sand, sea. Sounded like a good idea. He had a cooler full of beer and an all Rush mixtape. It had all gone wrong once they hit the highway.
A black snake of road. Twisting, slithering. No end in sight. He slumped forward, rubbing his sweating face on the leather of his steering wheel. His lip stuck to it. He cursed under his breath.
Beth Anne was humming off-key in the back, her voice a bee buzzing in his ear. Seth played his video game. The one that beeped constantly.
What the fuck is that noise?!
Diane was buffing her nails with that rusty damn nail file. The sound pounded in his ears. He could feel the blood rushing to his head. Beeping and humming and scratching and screaming.
His nails dug into the palm of his hand. He felt a sharp pain, the blood rising up from the cuts in his skin.
She stared at him accusingly. He didn't know which one it was but he couldn't take it any more.
He screamed and grabbed the nail file from his wife's hands, shoving it deep into her throat. She fell back, gurgling. Her hands reached up, trying to pull it out. Blood sprayed on the vinyl of the minivan. Seth reached over, trying to help her pull it out.
He put his hands around his son's throat. He squeezed. He kept his hands there until he could see Seth's eyes bulge out. Seth went still and he let him fall. Beth Anne kept screaming. Such a piercing sound. Always screaming. He smashed her face against the window.
She looked up at him and stopped screaming.
"You're not getting out of here Daddy. You never are. Never never never never."
He banged her head until she was still. He looked frantically around at the other cars. Surely they could see? Surely they could hear. All he saw were blank faces looking forward. To the ever stretching road.
He laughed, grinding his head against the headrest. The screaming, he could still hear it.
It's never going to end.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Please make it stop.
The noise ceased. He couldn't hear a thing.
"Honey, we have to get moving. You know how much Beth Anne wants to make a sand castle." Diane smiled at him. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and started it up.
Here we go again.
the end
email: yachiru [at] gmail.com
The traffic jam was a horror show. Cars lined up like bodies in a Nazi death camp. The clock blinked at 12, its red light a dull, sullen reflection. It had been blinking that way for eons now. He should have had it fixed damn it. No time. There was never enough time. He knew they'd been in the line for hours. He peered over the sides of the cars, hoping for a savior.
No AC. The old battered minivan was painted a thick black, almost tar like. It seemed to soak up the rays of the hot sun. The gray cracked dash steamed under the constant heat. More cracks. More cracks.
He pressed his thick sweaty hands over his eyes.
Stings, doesn't it?
The sound of the motor running was constant. The dry, hacking sputtering. He'd meant to bring it in for a tune up. Never enough time.
"Harry, you wanna soda? We got some still in tha coola." His wife absently asked, rubbing her finger over his collar. Her eyes were vacant. Sheíd been into the valium again. Not too much but enough. Slurry words. Slurry deeds.
He sighed and looked over at her. She was staring into the side mirror, looking at the people behind her. His daughter made faces in the passenger mirror.
He thought his wife was acceptable looking. Diane had thin, spiky blond hair that drooped over her calm grey eyes. Her nose was twisted, she'd broken it a couple of times during her time as an amateur boxer.
"No thanks hun. Had beer a minute ago. Don't want to stop for a pisser again this soon."
"Pisser! Pisser!" His daughter screamed from the back seat. Her face was red, her mouth open. A constant siren.
She was odd. Beth Anne's features were too large for her face. Liquid
green gold eyes shone like a mother lioness. She'd fixed her hair into Shirley Temple ringlets. Diane had shown the little bugger one of her movies one night and she'd decided to change her hair the very next day. He'd thought the kids at school would tear her up but apparently she'd started a trend. Weird duck.
"Stop that, duck! You know how your mam feels about swearing." Diane swatted at Beth Anne and she stopped the screeching. Her brother snickered at her and Beth Anne poked him in the side.
His son was just the opposite of his daughter. Seth was so handsome the girls called all night and day. His hair echoed every other schoolmate's. One lock of ash brown hair swept daringly over his bright green eyes.
What was that noise he kept hearing?
It reminded him of the cat. Couple of years ago they'd had a kitten named Bu. He'd ran away and his daughter swore she kept hearing him. He'd shrugged her off but a few days later he'd seen fur coming out of an air conditioner vent. The kitten was dead in there, ripped to pieces. He told his family Bu ran away.
He looked at the radio, wishing for some music, something to take his mind off the boredom. Some tunes would have been a bit of a relief right now but all he had was the destroyed remains of the radio. It was almost concave from being hit. Electrical wires hung like tentacles.
The car started with a rumble. The radio kicked on, someone screeching about love or soda pop. He quickly changed it and felt a grin slash across his face as the opening from Iron Man came on.
"Nooooo! That was my favorite daddy! Turn it back! Turn it back!"
He turned the music up, hoping to drown out Beth Anne. She kept screaming. He wanted to reach back and hit her.
His wife thumped him on the shoulder.
"Honey, stop being a baby and let her listen to her song."
He hit the radio. Again. Again. Until nothing but silence was left.
Some bright idea. A trip to Florida today. Sun, sand, sea. Sounded like a good idea. He had a cooler full of beer and an all Rush mixtape. It had all gone wrong once they hit the highway.
A black snake of road. Twisting, slithering. No end in sight. He slumped forward, rubbing his sweating face on the leather of his steering wheel. His lip stuck to it. He cursed under his breath.
Beth Anne was humming off-key in the back, her voice a bee buzzing in his ear. Seth played his video game. The one that beeped constantly.
What the fuck is that noise?!
Diane was buffing her nails with that rusty damn nail file. The sound pounded in his ears. He could feel the blood rushing to his head. Beeping and humming and scratching and screaming.
His nails dug into the palm of his hand. He felt a sharp pain, the blood rising up from the cuts in his skin.
She stared at him accusingly. He didn't know which one it was but he couldn't take it any more.
He screamed and grabbed the nail file from his wife's hands, shoving it deep into her throat. She fell back, gurgling. Her hands reached up, trying to pull it out. Blood sprayed on the vinyl of the minivan. Seth reached over, trying to help her pull it out.
He put his hands around his son's throat. He squeezed. He kept his hands there until he could see Seth's eyes bulge out. Seth went still and he let him fall. Beth Anne kept screaming. Such a piercing sound. Always screaming. He smashed her face against the window.
She looked up at him and stopped screaming.
"You're not getting out of here Daddy. You never are. Never never never never."
He banged her head until she was still. He looked frantically around at the other cars. Surely they could see? Surely they could hear. All he saw were blank faces looking forward. To the ever stretching road.
He laughed, grinding his head against the headrest. The screaming, he could still hear it.
It's never going to end.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to breathe.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Please make it stop.
The noise ceased. He couldn't hear a thing.
"Honey, we have to get moving. You know how much Beth Anne wants to make a sand castle." Diane smiled at him. He flexed his hands on the steering wheel and started it up.
Here we go again.
the end