The Long Way Home (10 page)

Most of the songs Jazzy selected had a bright, bouncy beat. Laverne didn’t find any of it to be too obnoxious; in fact, most of the time she found herself humming along.

That morning, as they drove out of Des Moines, Jazzy turned around and faced Marnie and Laverne to say, “Hey, you guys! Do you ever pretend like you’re in a movie and the music that’s playing is the soundtrack?”

“No,” Marnie said, and returned to reading her magazine.

“Never? Oh, that’s too bad. I do it all the time,” Jazzy said, not deterred at all by her lack of enthusiasm. “It’s really fun to do, once you get the hang of it.”

Laverne didn’t want to be rude, so she said, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about life with a soundtrack.” Jazzy vibrated with excitement. “I’ll show you what I mean.” She held up a finger before turning to her iPod to look for a song. “Ooh, I have the perfect one.” The music began and she turned the volume up.

“I know this one,” Rita said, glancing over.

Jazzy smiled. “Everyone knows this one. It’s an old song. A classic. Queen.”

To Laverne it sounded familiar, but she couldn’t have put a name to it. She didn’t want to look stupid though, so she said, “Oh yes, Queen. I love that song.”

“This is the perfect background music for four new friends on a road trip heading toward new horizons,” Jazzy said, grandly waving toward the windshield. “If this were a movie, we would see Rita at the wheel and each of us looking out our window searching for our future. And then the camera would focus on the car barreling down the highway, and as the music built to a crescendo, our faces would reflect new hope.” She turned and beamed at Laverne.

“A crescendo,” Laverne repeated, trying it out. What a beautiful word. She’d never said it aloud before, could have gone her whole life without saying it, if not for Jazzy. She leaned forward, grasping the back of Jazzy’s seat, trying to capture the happiness rays that came off the girl. Oh, to have that much energy again! It would be so wonderful.

“Can you imagine it?” Jazzy asked. She made an L with each hand, connected them, and peered through the opening.

“I can. Sure,” Rita said, while Laverne nodded.

Jazzy turned around and drummed on the dashboard, her head keeping time with the music. Laverne could see it now. They were in a movie about four women, complete strangers bonding as they traveled from Wisconsin to Las Vegas. A week ago her daily routine included scooping out the cat litter and going through the mail. No way could she have imagined this turn of events.

Laverne thought of her son’s reaction when she called to tell him she was going on this trip. The word
astounded
didn’t begin to cover it. “Are you kidding me? Last week you wouldn’t go out to eat with me because it seemed like too much, and now you’re going on a road trip with people I’ve never met?” It was the way he phrased it that cracked her up—that she was going on a road trip with people
he’d
never met. As if she needed his approval. He’d continued, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.” If she’d been even the least bit on the fence about going, this comment would have put her right over. She wasn’t asking his permission; she was a grown woman. More than grown, Laverne mused. She was closer to the end of her life than she’d ever been before, and if she didn’t take some risks now, she never would.

What she didn’t and couldn’t explain was the way everything aligned perfectly in an instant: the very day she decided she was ready to end her reign of solitude, Jazzy showed up at her door and invited her on a road trip to the very place she’d always wanted to go—Las Vegas! What were the chances of that happening?

Jazzy sure had a persuasive way about her. She had leaned against the doorframe, a bag slung over her shoulder and a big smile on her face. Enthusiastically, she told Laverne about the trip, and how they were coming together to help Marnie out. “This trip is going to be life-changing for all of us,” she said, her eyes shining. Jazzy also said that every woman should go on a road trip with friends at least once in her life. At that moment, Laverne felt a flush of joy. It was then that she made the split-second decision to go on the trip; she went to pack before she could change her mind. Later she realized the phrase “with friends” didn’t apply to the group at all. But by then, it was too late. They were already on the road, heading west.

And now she was in Jazzy’s pretend movie about four friends on a road trip, with a soundtrack and everything. Coming on this trip had been the right thing to do.

“This is the good part,” Jazzy said, turning up the volume and singing a line about how they were all champions. She raised her hands like she was conducting. “Attention, everybody. I need you all to join in. Let’s rock this car.”

Rita laughed and started singing along. She had a good voice. Laverne didn’t really know the words, but Jazzy kept gesturing wildly for her to join in, so she faked it. Luckily, Jazzy was so loud and off-key that nobody noticed Laverne’s mistakes.

Finally Marnie couldn’t ignore them any longer. She put down the magazine and looked disapprovingly at their shenanigans.

“Don’t be shy, Marnie,” Jazzy yelled out. “Join us, my friend. Come over to the dark side.”

Marnie shook her head and for a moment Laverne didn’t think she was going to cave, but it turned out that the allure of the song was just too strong. Right at the end she opened her mouth and belted out the last verse with the rest of them.

They were champions of the world.

Iowa had seemed to go on forever, cornfields as far as the eye could see. It felt like it would stretch on endlessly, so it was a shock when Rita announced they were close to switching states. “After Council Bluffs, we’ll be heading into Nebraska.”

Laverne sat up to take it all in. She was noticing a trend with rivers delineating state borders. No wonder the lines on maps were all squiggles. Upon reaching the bridge, she fidgeted in anticipation. When a semi pulled up alongside them, she felt the vibration of the big truck first and then it was a wall between her and the view. “Dang it,” she said and motioned with her hand. “I wish he’d move.” She finally contented herself with looking out Marnie’s window. The Missouri river wasn’t as wide as the Mississippi, but it was still impressive. “This is the first time in all my life that I’ve ever been in Nebraska,” she announced.

Marnie didn’t look up from her
People
magazine. You’d think she was riding the bus down the block, the little interest she took in what was going on outside the car. Laverne had waited a long time to see America, and she didn’t want to miss a minute of it. While Jazzy played with her iPhone and Marnie read, Laverne kept her eyes aimed at the window. Minutes turned into hours. Nebraska went on forever it seemed, and the view didn’t vary much, but she didn’t care. Even the interstate signs and the passing cars interested her. After a lifetime of seeing Wisconsin license plates, she found the variation in state plates fascinating. She noticed other things too: that the blue signs were for rest areas, the brown ones designated tourist attractions, and the green ones listed cities. When she pointed this out, everyone else in the car seemed to know it already.

So much was new to her. And here she thought she knew so much of the world, having raised three kids, being married for forty-two years, and having a long career as a payroll clerk in the accounting department for Duffy’s Food Service. But really, all those years and all those experiences were only the tip of the iceberg compared to everything that was beyond the state line. Why hadn’t she ever taken a road trip before? Probably because when the kids were growing up, they vacationed up north, like everyone else she knew. A rental cottage on a lake was heaven. There was something relaxing about being on the water, and the kids loved fishing and swimming. No, she didn’t regret it. What she regretted was spending the last three years cooped up at home. After her husband died she’d come undone. It happened without her even realizing it. That first winter was cold and snowy, and she started skipping church and stopped meeting friends for lunch. She insisted on having family gatherings at her place. No one minded much. All the kids worked, and it was nice to have her cook and take care of all the details. After a while her driver’s license expired and the car had some mechanical problems and she just let it sit in the garage unused. Eventually she stopped going out except for walks to the corner grocery store right after it opened first thing in the morning. She was always tired. People exhausted her.

Laverne looked up at the puffy white clouds off in the distance. She imagined being up above looking down at the car and seeing her own face peering out. Younger people saw her as old, ancient even. She could tell by the way they called her ma’am and offered to help her out with the groceries at the supermarket. No denying she looked older with her curly white hair and weathered face, so it was odd that she felt the same as ever. Her joints
were
a little stiff when she first woke up, but after a warm shower and a few stretches she was good to go. Looking in the mirror was the biggest shockeroo. When she was younger, she’d been forewarned about wrinkles and arthritis, but no one told her that someday she’d have a turkey neck and age spots. Or that her skin would lose all its elasticity. Everywhere. Places she didn’t think
could
droop, did. Even her elbows looked saggy. Elbows! A part she never gave much thought to, and now the skin over the bend of her elbow looked like a bulldog’s face. She couldn’t remember exactly when all her body parts had dropped. One day she just noticed things had changed. Life sure went by quick when you weren’t paying attention. It took forever to go from a child to a grown-up. The middle-aged years went by at a steady clip, and everything else after that just sort of whizzed by.

She vowed to pay more attention to things going on around her, like the fact that Rita seemed to be driving with a new sense of purpose. The first day they’d just been easing in, she explained. “Now we’re going to do some serious traveling. We’re only stopping for meals and
necessary
bathroom breaks.”

“And the meals can be quick too,” Marnie said. “Fast food would be fine. I need to be in Las Vegas like yesterday.” Laverne wished there was something she could do to help Marnie feel better. The rest of them were on vacation. Marnie was on a heart-stomping, nerve-wrenching, fact-finding mission. At one point Laverne had said, ever so gently, “Worrying about it will just make things worse.” Marnie had agreed but didn’t seem to take it to heart.

Nebraska didn’t have many restaurant options along the interstate. At lunchtime they dove into the sandwiches and grapes in Marnie’s cooler. They’d made a few stops for gas and bathroom breaks, but they kept to the schedule and didn’t dally. The speed limit was seventy-five miles per hour, but the traffic clipped along at eighty-five. Surprisingly, Rita kept up with the other cars and even commented, “Traveling in Wisconsin is going to seem slow after this.” They were making good headway, but it was starting to get tedious. Where Iowa had farm fields, Nebraska had cattle. Jazzy started to sing “Home on the Range” but stopped when Laverne said she thought the song was about Kansas. It had been a long day of driving, but Rita was determined to get through the state before stopping.

Laverne found it interesting to look out the window, even with the sameness of it all. The cows in the distance, most of them with their heads down to graze, reminded her of the plastic livestock from a toy farm set. Soon, though, she found herself lulled into sleep. She rested her head against the seat, closed her eyes, and drifted off.

Rita found it trying to drive due west at the end of the day. As the sun lowered in the sky, the glare intensified. She adjusted the visor and wished for darker sunglasses. At times, when the road curved, she got a break from the bright light. Even so, she still found her temples throbbing with the start of a headache.

“Do you want to get off at the next exit and let me drive for a while?” Jazzy asked. “I don’t mind.” Jazzy was proving to be a good travel companion. She kept Rita informed as to how far they’d gone so far, and calculated how many miles they needed to log before their final destination. She also proved to be astute at looking up food stops on her cell phone or Garmina and handing over the water bottle at just the right times.

“How much more to the next hotel?” Rita asked, weighing the offer.

“About two hours,” Jazzy said.

“I’m fine for now. I might take you up on your offer later, though.”

Jazzy opened the flap over the visor mirror and inspected her face, then turned her attention to the backseat.

“Are they both sleeping?” Rita asked.

Laverne’s snoring answered half her question, and then Marnie shifted slightly and said, eyes still closed, “I’m awake. Just resting my eyes.”

They were hurtling toward Colorado, but the landscape was flat and fairly barren. Not much to see, which made driving monotonous. Rita might have nodded off herself if not for Jazzy, who occasionally made a comment or asked her if she wanted a sip of water or stick of gum. Now she asked a question, but lowered her voice so the backseat peanut gallery wouldn’t hear. “Did your husband ever find Preston Place?”

For a split second, Rita was startled. She hadn’t remembered telling Jazzy about her conversation with Glenn. Had she mentioned it and forgotten, or did Jazzy just
know
? This girl was scary amazing. “No,” she answered, eyes still on the road. “He gave it his best, but couldn’t find anything.”

“Even if we miss it on the way there, there’s always the way back,” Jazzy said.

“Or maybe you’ll get another message that will clarify?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

They continued on, the interior of the car insulated from the rest of the world. They hadn’t encountered another vehicle in a while, and it was starting to feel like they were in some weird
Twilight Zone
episode. The last living people on earth going on a road trip to nowhere. Jazzy had turned the music down earlier, just when the sun started to set. Now it was barely audible, more of a background hum than anything else. It only seemed right. They were all tired. On the expressway, the traffic had abated somewhat. All day Rita had maneuvered around larger vehicles: semis, SUVS, and cars pulling campers. Now they had the right lane to themselves.

When they entered Colorado, Jazzy read the sign: “Welcome to Colorful Colorado.” She looked back to see Laverne’s reaction, but she was zonked out, dead to the world.

Rita said, “Not so colorful at night.” She felt better now that they’d crossed the state line. Nebraska was not awash in hotel accommodations right off the interstate. Colorado offered more options, based on what Jazzy had found online. Plus, there was something satisfying about having driven through three states in one day. She had accomplished something.

They noticed there was something wrong with the car when the music stopped. Jazzy and Rita exchanged puzzled looks, but before they could speak, the dashboard lights dimmed.

“Oh no,” Jazzy said, as if she knew where this was going.

“What?” Rita asked.

“Pull over,” Jazzy said, her voice rising frantically. “Pull over now!”

“But we’re not near an exit.”

In the backseat, Marnie came to life. “What’s going on?”

Laverne, barely conscious, groaned.

Before anyone could answer, the car faded. It was like, Rita thought, a huge windup toy grinding to a halt. She was able to coast to the side of the road before it died completely. The car thudded over the line that delineated the edge of the lane and came to a complete stop.

“You can’t stop here,” Marnie said. “Someone’s going to hit us.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Rita said sharply. It wasn’t like her to snap at someone, but the circumstances forced it out of her. She’d driven all day, while the rest of them slept and read and looked at their phones, and suddenly they were criticizing what she was doing? “I lost power.”

“Is it a dead battery?” Marnie said.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. The battery is fairly new.”

“It’s the alternator,” Jazzy said with conviction.

“What makes you so sure?” Rita asked, wondering if Jazzy’s psychic messages included mechanical mishaps.

“This exact same thing happened once to me and a boyfriend when I was in high school,” Jazzy said. “I wound up being like three hours late getting home. Man, was my dad mad. I was grounded for like a month.” She shook her head at the memory.

“So now what do we do?” Marnie said.

Rita turned to Jazzy. “Do your spirits have any suggestions?”

“No, I’m not getting anything.”

Marnie said, “Speaking of spirits, it would have been nice if they warned us about this ahead of time. We could have had the alternator replaced before we left.”

Jazzy said, “You know, this is exactly why I hate telling people about being psychic. I swear to you that I don’t have any control.” The mood in the car changed. Jazzy, who was usually upbeat, looked irritated.

“Oh, never mind,” Marnie said. “I just thought I’d mention it.”

But Jazzy was on a tear now. “The spirits—they come, they go. It’s not usually convenient. And they nag at me and sometimes I don’t know what in the hell they want. Some days it feels like being spiritually stalked, if you want to know the truth.”

“Whoa,” Marnie said. “I’m sorry to have upset you.”

“I’m a little sensitive about it, is all.”

Rita reached over and gave her a motherly pat. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all tired.”

“And I really have to pee,” Marnie said, something that surprised no one.

“So what are we going to do?” Jazzy said.

Rita ticked off a mental list of strikes against their situation: it was late at night, dark, they were from out of state and not entirely sure where they were. What did someone do under these circumstances? Call the state trooper or 911? Look up towing services in the area? She wasn’t sure.

In the lane next to them, only inches away, a pickup truck roared past. To make matters worse, the driver blasted his horn in one continuous scream as it went by. As if they were at fault for being stranded by the side of the road.

The noise woke Laverne, who raised her head in confusion. “What’s going on?” she asked groggily. She rubbed her eyes like a child and blinked.

“The car broke down,” Marnie said. “The alternator is shot, we think.”

“Did you call Triple A?” Laverne asked, the first good suggestion they’d heard yet.

Rita groaned. “I used to have it, but I didn’t renew my membership.” There had been no need to have it; she only drove locally and always had her phone with her, so she had let it lapse. But maybe it could still be helpful. She knew from experience that AAA covered the driver, not the car. “Does anyone else have it?”

Jazzy and Marnie shook their heads. Laverne said, “I don’t even drive.”

Marnie said, “I thought about getting it after Brian died, but I never got around to it.”

“It would come in handy right about now,” Rita said, her voice weary.

A few cars whizzed past in quick succession, perilously close. “You should put the four-way flashers on,” Laverne said.

“We. Have. No. Power.” Rita didn’t know how to make it any clearer.

“Oh,” Laverne said, and sank back in her seat.

“I don’t know about any of you,” Marnie said, “but I have to go so bad I’m about to explode. Jazzy, do you still have those napkins from McDonalds?”

Jazzy opened the glove compartment and handed a wad over the back of the seat. Marnie grabbed her purse, opened the door, and headed into the darkness.

“What in the world is she doing?” Rita said.

“Going to pee would be my guess,” Laverne said.

With no lights on the expressway and no headlights, the only illumination came from the almost full moon and Jazzy’s cell phone. They watched Marnie maneuver her way down the embankment and through the tall grass until she merged with the darkness beyond and they couldn’t see her anymore.

“If this was a horror movie, we’d never see her again,” Jazzy said, brightly.

“Don’t even talk like that,” Rita said.

Jazzy turned her attention to her phone. “I’m going to start Googling emergency roadside service in Colorado. Someone will come.” She sounded confident, but Rita wasn’t so sure.