Once Upon a Road Trip (35 page)

Vince leaned forward as she settled overhead. “Where’re you going?”

Angie peered down at him over the side, wondering at the amused smile he wore. “To sleep. You should too.”

“You don’t have to leave. I was sleeping just fine,” he said through a stifled yawn.

“Good night,” she called down, tone mild but firm. 

“Good morning,” Vince corrected at a mumble.

Budweiser grunted in protest over being repositioned, but that was all the more Angie heard from below before sleep reclaimed her.

Chapter 21

Dead pine needles crackled underfoot as Angie stepped into the thick tree line. Continuing on for several yards toward a crumbling tree stump, her eyes scanned the ground for any signs of movement. If not for her scorpion encounter the night before, she wouldn’t have given her steps a second thought. Today she was committed to respecting the fact that she was in unfamiliar territory — particularly if it saved her a trip to the emergency room.

Holding the Mason jar at arm’s length, she overturned it, forcing the vessel’s occupant to drop out. No worse for wear, the scorpion landed upright and wasted no time darting across the top of the stump. Angie didn’t wait to see which direction the creature went. Pivoting in place, she retraced her steps at twice her original speed.

As she cut back into the relative safety of Vince’s backyard, she noticed her host leaning against the fender of his car, watching her. At least, she was fairly sure he was watching her. Much to her chagrin, his eyes were again concealed behind the mirror lenses of his sunshades. There was a better excuse for it today, as the skies were an unbroken blue and the sun hung high overhead. Arms folded loosely across his chest, he wore a faint smirk, shaking his head as she approached.

“So, where are we going?” she asked, initiating conversation in hopes of avoiding any commentary on her arachnid altruism.

“We’re going to meet up with my friend Grady and his cousin,” Vince said, shifting to pull open the passenger side door for her. “I figured we’d all go see a movie. Not much else to do around here.”

“Sounds good to me.” Angie slid into the car, making a point not to balk at his gesture. She couldn’t recall ever having a car door opened for her. It didn’t occur to her to thank him for the courtesy until after he’d shut it behind her. But by then, the timing for it seemed to have passed.

While he walked around to his side, she took in the all-gray interior of the car. It was a spacious vehicle, clean and free of clutter. A number of ornaments dangled from their place of honor beneath the rear view mirror. Among them, an intricate wooden pirate ship — complete with a tiny skull and crossbones flag — twisted side to side as Vince got into the driver’s seat.

“Welcome to the Corsair.” Vince gave the steering wheel an affectionate pat. “Or, that’s what I call him anyway. If you hear anybody call me Captain Vince, now you’ll know why. This thing is kind of a land yacht.” He tapped the pirate ship with his finger to persuade it into a pendulum swing.

Angie recognized a Catholic pendant suspended from a silver chain behind the ship, and she reached out to examine it more closely. She identified the small St. Francis of Assisi engraving on the back after running her thumb over the raised image on its front.

“From Meme’—my grandmother, ” he said, one side of his mouth pulling in a faint smirk. “For when they come to visit and I have to pretend I’m Catholic.”

“Keeping the peace, huh?” Angie smiled as she released the charm. “So then what do you consider yourself, if not Catholic?”

“Open to suggestion. If it’s the kind that makes sense.”  

“Fair enough.” She glanced around the rest of the vehicle’s interior while she waited to see if he would take the opportunity to make any inquiries of his own. But his attention transitioned into backing the car out and taking them to the main road. Angie glanced behind her into the back seat, spotting a pair of leather work gloves lying atop a folded uniform, weighed down by a yellow, brick-sized radio. “What’s all that?” She motioned over her shoulder with her thumb.

Vince adjusted his rear view mirror, giving him a momentary glimpse into the back seat. “Oh, you mean the fire department stuff? That’s my call radio and a few things I’d need to work a scene. Everything else is at the station just up the road.”

“Oh. Are you supposed to be on call this week?” Angie peered out her window at the brick-walled volunteer fire station as they approached, remembering it from the day before.

“Not while you’re here,” he said. “I haven’t taken call much since I started college, but I did just about every night back in high school. I’m trying to stay in shape for it though, in case my class schedule eases up next semester.”

Angie’s conscience took her back to earlier in the day, and she reluctantly second-guessed the irritation she’d awoken with toward her host. They’d slept until close to noon that morning, and Vince had gotten up ahead of her only to launch into an extensive routine of push-ups and sit-ups. Though he wasn’t noisy about it, he’d executed the workout on the floor just in front of the bunk bed. Presuming this display to be some attempt at showing off, Angie had feigned sleep to avoid acknowledging it at all. Now, she suspected she’d been too quick to dismiss its merit.

“Have you seen a lot of fires?” she asked with growing interest.

“If you mean structure fires, I’ve only been on a handful of those calls.” He spoke in an absent tone, his focus on the road. “Most of the time we just end up being the first on scene for car wrecks—usually drunk drivers or people who don’t know how to drive in the rain. We got to use the Jaws of Life once, but it doesn’t normally come to that.”

“So what got you into it? Hero complex, or thirst for adrenaline?”

“Wanting to be more like my dad, I guess.” Vince’s thoughtful candor gave her pause. “He was a fire chief when I was growing up, and we didn’t share a lot of interests. I think it disappointed him that I wanted to stay at home and be on the computer instead of fixing cars or going out hunting and fishing with him.” And then, as though he wasn’t at ease with remaining serious for long, another smirk played across his face. “That, and I’ve always had a thing for fire. Most of the guys I volunteer with are borderline pyromaniacs.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Angie laughed. “At least it’s a positive way to direct the fascination.”

“Sometimes to stop a fire, we’d get to start one.” His voice gained a measure of liveliness. “The National Forest near here had problems with wildfires a couple of years ago, and we got to go out there and control-burn a perimeter to keep it from spreading.”

“Firefighters who stop fires by starting fires. Ironic,” she said, amused. While they’d only managed a few minutes of genuine conversation, Angie was pleasantly surprised at how much more comfortable she’d become with Vince. For whatever reason, he seemed less contrived and more like the affable friend she’d enjoyed talking to over the phone and online. With any luck, her first impression of him as a standoffish jerk was nothing but a fluke.

Something about the abundant vegetation rushing past them began to strike Angie as unusual, and she tapped a finger against her window to call Vince’s attention. “What are all of those vines covering everything?”

She wasn’t exaggerating. The plants she referred to carpeted the ditches and crept upward to envelop tree trunks and telephone poles alike in a sheath of dense, rounded leaves. They adhered to rock formations and arched over abandoned farm equipment, reminding her of enormous hedge sculptures.

Vince glanced out her window and back several times before the confused expression on his face was lifted. “Oh, that’s just Kudzu. It grows everywhere. I think it’s some kind of weed.”

“So that’s what it looks like,” Angie said, sounding more enthralled than she’d intended. “I guess it depends on your definition of “weed.” It’s actually native to Japan. It was brought over here to help control soil erosion, but it got out of hand. I think it’s in the legume family.”

“That’s…interesting,” Vince said in a less than convincing tone. “I didn’t know you had a thing for plants. We can swing by the botanical gardens later if you want,” he offered, though he didn’t expend any enthusiasm on the idea.

She laughed, somewhat embarrassed at her spontaneous fact regurgitation. “I just read about it somewhere. Sorry. I’m not actually all about botany, I just tend to store useless trivia.” She had also read somewhere that Alabama alone produced half of the peanut crop for the United States. Though, she wasn’t about to earn herself any more geek points by throwing that in.

They lapsed into an uneasy silence for a time, which Angie accepted as deserved on her part.

So much for being more comfortable with each other
.

Vince soon turned onto highway 20 west toward Birmingham, leaving the sprawling countryside behind. At some point, he began to fiddle with the radio. Angie didn’t pay the background music much mind until a song came on that she knew. Even then, she was only half aware of it as she stared out her window. The rolling greenery of the Appalachian foothills held her fascination. Thick, shaded forest flanked the interstate, remaining unbroken for miles and giving the impression of massive gaps in civilization. She wasn’t at all cognizant that she’d been reciting song lyrics aloud until Vince’s voice drew her out of her haze.

“You know this song?”

Angie blinked, collecting her thoughts. She turned toward him, noting the astonishment in his face. “Um…yeah?”

“A girl like you—you listen to rap?”

Angie’s bewilderment was overcome by a resurgence of irritation. “What, do I not fit the goodie-goodie mold if I happen to know a few songs?”

At that, he was silent. She took it as confirmation.

Angie forced herself to finish out the song at a more brazen and audible level, though she had to stare out her window all the while to maintain her nerve. It wasn’t the first time her self-consciousness had been trumped by her determination to prove a point.

“For the record, that was the only song of his that I like.” she said, evenly. “And that’s mostly because I found the music video hilarious.”

“You’re full of surprises.” Vince chuckled, casting her a sidelong glance.

“Only because you seem to be full of assumptions.” Angie immediately regretted her bluntness. She reviewed her choice of words in her head, and then reasoned that it was for the best.
Keeping him at arm’s length was the goal
, she reminded herself. She must have guaranteed her success by this point.

Vince drummed the pads of his thumbs against the steering wheel for several seconds, as if keeping beat to some tune in his head. “Touché,” he said finally, with an air of respect. “Alright. No more assumptions.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After meeting up with Grady and his cousin Steven in an expansive theater lobby, the group stood off from the ticket counter attempting to reach an agreement. Angie earned herself some measure of approval by expressing no interest in any of the romantic comedies. The others seemed to be leaning toward an action movie involving dragons.

“You’d probably like that one—the computer graphics were great.” She singled out Vince with a nod. “But, I just saw it last week.”

Grady held up a hand, offering Angie an amicable smile. “Hey, I’ll go with anything you feel like.” A former classmate of Vince’s, Grady displayed a laid-back demeanor that contrasted somewhat with his professional choice of attire. Like Vince he was average in height, but his build was broad-shouldered and solid. His dark hair was frosted at the tips and sculpted into pristine peaks. A rich complexion and warm brown eyes suggested a Mediterranean heritage.

“Way to be decisive, G,” Vince jabbed.

Steven spoke up for the first time, shoveling his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m cool with whatever.” Though he stood almost a head taller than Grady, he carried himself with a slight slouch that seemed to reflect a more timid personality. Pallid, lanky, and crowned with shaggy, golden-blonde hair, the only features he shared with his cousin were his eyes.

“There’s one I’d be more than happy to see again,” Angie said, pointing to the poster on the far wall advertising for Lilo & Stitch.

“A cartoon?” Vince groaned. “Seriously?”

“Trust me—it was funny,” she said, insistent. “Give it a chance.”

“Yeah, that one looked alright.” Grady agreed more quickly than Angie had expected. He looked to Steven, who concurred with a quick nod. “And there you have it. We made a decision.” Grady spoke with a hint of satisfaction.

At that, Vince’s protests were cut short. Motioning for the others to follow, he stepped up to the ticket counter. When Angie filed in to buy her own, he waved her off. “You’re still my guest,” he said, as though she were trying to usurp a sacred local custom.

“Well where I come from, when the guy pays it makes it a date,” she said, allowing annoyance to her tone.

“Here, it’s called good manners.” Vince countered. “Besides, what kind of crappy date would I be taking someone on if I brought Grady along for it?”

“Hey!” Grady complained from behind them, overplaying a wounded expression. “I happen to think I’d make a first class…third wheel.”

Angie stepped out of the line, waiting as the rest of the group bought their tickets and then migrated over to the arcade to kill time until their theater opened. Grady and Vince gravitated to a cooperative game involving a large screen and a set of plastic handguns. A handful of quarters later, the duo were engrossed in shooting at an endless parade of virtual assailants. Angie watched for a time before shuffling to one side where Steven stood by, monitoring the scores.

“Have you ever played this before?”

Steven shook his head.

“Me neither,” she confided. “If there’s time left after they’re done, I’ll play you.”

“Sure.” Steven looked slightly amazed at the suggestion. “You a gamer?”

Angie shrugged. “Nintendo mostly. I’m not a huge fan of first-person shooters, but I’ve played a few. I prefer games with a storyline.”