The Picture

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The Open Road

The man was driving to Phoenix to go to his brothers house. There had been an infidelity. The fight had been hardly ten words and he left. It was past one when the LeSabre pulled away He thought about running out of the coke he had gotten. The radio had been on the same station the whole ride. He was out of range now. The sun was fully overhead. The summer heat had started to come off the interstate.

But he was on the open road and really thats where he felt most comfortable. He thought of the girl, and his wife. It was stupid. She's eighteen, he had kept saying to himself. It doesn't really matter, he kept on saying. She had followed him. He guessed his wife had also followed him. It was at a BBQ on Saturday, close to the elementary school field. After he had finished talking and had finished up what he was drinking he walked away under the seating line to do a bump. When he turned around the girl was there. She was Gus Parker's daughter and had been called a late bloomer.

He said "I want you to suck my cock." and he gave her a bump of coke while she did so. Because of the coke it took him a long time to come. She worked very hard at it.

The wife sat away and watched the whole thing. He came, red-faced, into the girls mouth. They did some more coke. Afterwards the wife walked quietly back to the BBQ. When he finally returned the girl was not with him. He got a beer. She was quiet and he did not notice.

Now though, he was driving on the highway. And the radio was on and he thought about the songs and read his own meanings into the words. She had been very cruel to him through they're four years of marriage. Sometimes she did things like throw his last two beers away before he came home. Sometimes she fucked up his stuff. She told him he was a feeble example of a man. She told him his job at the factory is a piece of shit just like he is a piece of shit. They had always been cruel to each other. She had never treated him well.

He drank coffee and his mouth stayed dry. At his brother's he would drink some orange juice. It was a desert road. From Nevada to Phoenix it's mostly nothing. He didn't mind. He knew his brother had stopped all this and he would probably have to dry out there.

And somewhere in the heat there was a smell he was noticing.

He thought some more about the girl as he went on. She had had a lot of make-up on and he thought how thick her burgundy-brown lipstick looked, as if she had just put it on. It had gotten on his cock. He started to look around the car for the source of the smell. It was rancid and horrible. It must be some food that had gotten left. He stopped looking to keep his eyes on the road. There was something coming up. He would have to swerve. It seemed like road kill. When he passed it was only a leg. The smell was terrible. He shut the windows but he could not get rid of it in the heat.

Another part was coming up. He decided to slow down a little to see. There were a couple more. Cow parts. Brown. A head that was infested, and a carcass. There were some more up ahead, and rollers. He sped up again, as to avoid any confrontation. He finally saw a cop car parked in back of an old dirty truck with plywood sides. There were cow parts everywhere. All a clay colored brown as if they had been soaked in it. They were spilling out of the back of the truck, reeking. A black man with a long dirty undershirt was standing next to it, frantically explaining things to a patrolman. He passed by and got up wind and rolled down the windows. The air was better.

He lit another cigarette to further mask any remnant of the odor. He thought about it and started to laugh about the man trying to explain things to the cop. His hands in the air, ringing his arms, moving them around as if it would make it easier for the cop to understand everything. He suddenly laughed hard and loud, as loud as the Allman Brothers on the radio. Soon he realized he needed gas. He did another bump of coke.

At the service station he watched a couple in a white pick-up with a horse trailer attached. There were no horses in it. They we're talking and must not have seen the mess on the highway, or they might see it soon. He did not mention it to them. He went in for another cup of coffee. While he pissed in the bathroom he checked his cock for her lipstick. He had not showered, but it was gone.

When he got back to the Le Sabre he saw he had missed a call. It was his brother. There was a message. His brother explained that the man's wife had called and told things to his sister-in-law. He would not be able to go to his brothers'.

His brother's exact words we're "…we couldn't possibly get in the middle of this Bill. I hope you understand."

He didn't care. He would stay in a motel. He needed to rest, and dry out. He was approaching Phoenix but he would drive a little further with the windows down. The smell was still in the car. He lit another cigarette.

The motel he chose was ruddy. He couldn't afford much else. Before he went to his room he saw a bar and it was open and went in to have a drink. He sat and smoked and watched TV. Another couple of guys came in to drink. They were out of towners too. They all had beers and talked. Bar talk. None of the men were very funny. Then the man told the story about the cow parts on the highway and told about the man waving his arms, trying to explain. All the men laughed. They were loosened up now. They drank a lot of beer. They told stories about times they had done bunches of crank and gotten really fucked up. The man shared the rest of his coke with the guys. They filed in and out of the bathroom. After the coke was gone the guys left. He had another beer because he really needed to be able to rest.

When he got back and in the motel room he laid down. The bed spread was a boys bedspread with cars and staggered yellow lines going this way and that. He tried to jerk off and think about the girl but couldn't get hard. He wife called as he was finally dozing off. He turned the phone off.

While he slept he kept thinking about the horrible smell on the highway. Kept thinking he could smell it. He woke up later. His mouth was dry and scratchy. He drank some water and then listened to the message from his wife. She was crying. She told him she hated him. That he was a shit bag from the beginning and she's glad they never had any kids because he was such an asshole. She cried some more, then she said she couldn't do it by herself. She screamed that he was a fucker and a sick fuck and then told him he had to come home. She cried some more and he hung up without listening to the rest.

He showered finally. This time when he thought about the girl he was able to get hard. He checked out quickly and got in the car. He was not hungry. In his sleep he had decided to drive south to Tuscan.

He would run out of money but he would figure it out then.