Chapter 2 - Road-trip

in fiction •  7 years ago 

Jake had been driving for a little over thirty minutes before he decided to pull over onto the gritty grey verge. The sign, hoisted above the junction in front of him, swung gently, two and fro. It promised entry onto the interstate highway with big white arrows pointing the way. To the left, New York City was measured to be a mere 124 Miles away; whilst excitement and adventure could be found to the right, just over 30 Miles North in Canada. Niagara Falls beckoned him, calling out and offering her mesmerising white wet beauty. He could hear her frolicking, playing and splashing, taunting him whilst he sat there thinking, resisting her alluring chants of temptation.

He shuffled himself back into the deep leathery bucket seat, composing himself whilst in deep thought, calculating the travel time to JFK. It would take no more than four hours to drive, even at a snail’s crawl; he could not fail to make it and that was before considering the contingency time the delayed flights afforded him.

The temptress continued to call out and flirt with his desires, offering him a view of her mystical power shower, formed by the raining water over the edge of her misty rim. A compelling call, especially as he had been granted a valid excuse by the weather god! What was stopping him? Which direction should he turn? The divine intervention toyed with his head, testing his resolve, challenging his will and his dedication to mother.

Her voice cracked into his weak head like thunder cracking overhead, snuffing out his free spirit and killing his adventurous spirit; after all, Jake was merely a boy and he couldn’t repel her manipulation. He sat there cold and resolute to her wishes.

Tiny little pebbles sprayed up, fanned out by the powerful spinning teeth of the fat bulging tyres, leaving a stack of neatly piled pyramids in its wake, paying homage to a car that once idled there. Mother’s ability to control him, even whilst alone and isolated, was witch-like. Jake’s resolve was broken by her long-range guilt strike. Riddled with deep regret, he lurched left towards New York City. She had overpowered his self-want as if he were merely a scared mouse, succumbed him to her total control and dominance.

Mummy’s boy was heading home and no amount of snow was going to stop him. Although this was his maiden voyage abroad, his first foreign adventure, he had made his pledge to her. He’d spit in the face of fate, if she dared to reveal her face before the airport. What could possibly go wrong?

This was the mid-90s and Jake was a young, faithful and determined little sole. A naïve and foolish individual controlled and manipulated like a puppet on strings tugged by the hands of his dictatorial, divorced and selfish mother.

The miles soon racked up, the car eagerly ate through them, as if it were starving hungry. Tiredness drowned out his emotions, which in turn, started to eat away at his attention span. He made great progress over the first hour, clocking up more than sixty miles, a little faster than the lawful speed limit, but remaining truthful to its general spirit.

The roads were moderately busy, casting aside any aspersions or thoughts of the impending doom of the inbound snow which had been forecasted for the area. Jake chuckled to himself, ‘what did the Yanks know about snow?’ He innocently chuckled to himself, concluding they had over-reacted.

Unfortunately, his lack of concentration coincided perfectly with a sign sailing by overhead. Streaking passed and taking with it the ramp for the exit to the east bound I80 interstate. Another ten minutes of day dreaming flittered away before his Spiderman senses dragged him back to reality, he felt something was wrong. A nagging concern pressed upon him, he must have missed the exit. The pit of his stomach gurgled empty.

Jake learnt a quick valuable lesson, America is bloody huge! The next exit sign soon arrived, brandishing its unwelcome message that there were more than thirty miles to go before he could turn around. He thumped the steering wheel hard, as if the car was to blame. He was now required to drive all those miles, there and back, just to arrive to his current location, albeit on the other side of the interstate. Upon doing so, he would also have several miles to go before reaching the exit he needed.

Having driven the first half of those frustrating miles, he turned off at the exit he intended to use to swing about. He pulled over to open his hand map, to recalibrate, before starting back. He identified his careless mistake and recalculated the remaining journey. He shook his head and urged his brain to explode, in a bid to end this stupidity. How could he have made such a silly mistake? He released a loud frustrated yell. In turn, an innocent field-mouse, which had been perched on its hind legs to check its safety in the long bushels nearby, toppled over onto its back in fright before scampering away in fear for its life.

Jake was almost as far away from his destination, as to when he first set off! He considered his situation and decided that he’d have to drive like a demon possessed driver to cover the distance in time. The speed limit was there to be bent and flexed as required; after all, he was now an Englishman heading to New York. Being this far out from nowhere, he had to make it.

“Two and a half hours to conquer a hundred miles. That’s achievable?!?!” Jake compelled himself on, denying the odds and trying to prevent them from dropping any further.

Jake checked his mirror, un-ratcheted the parking break and stamped on the accelerator. The pristine grassy verge on the right was instantly decimated, whilst the clean and beautiful concrete on the left was burnt in a fresh line of rubber as the car smoked away, leaving a toxic air of rubbery particles which smelled of old damp socks.

There was meaning in Jake’s menace, his new found driving posture reflected a man on a mission and no law was going to slow him. Well… That was until his heart almost popped out of his mouth approximately an hour later. Whilst scanning his rear-view mirror, at break neck speed, he spotted the tell-tale signs of flashing lights way off in the distance; they had just breached the crest of the hill behind.

“Bugger… Bugger… Bugger… Keep calm… And slooooow down.” He grimaced to himself, “remember don’t argue… They have guns!’ Jake genuinely feared more for his life than his license!

He reduced his speed to a law-abiding pace, pulling in deliberately behind an inconspicuous juggernaut. Minutes of Jake’s life wallowed past him, whilst he waited for the bright flashing blue and white lights to reach him. They mainly consisted of his mother’s face, imprinted with disgust, accompanied by the wagging of her ‘naughty boy’ finger whilst characteristically shaking her head in disapproval.

What was the penalty for being over the speed limit? Would the cop think he had been drink-driving? After all, he did smell like a brewery! Had the official helped him use the kit correctly, just a few hours earlier? God how he desperately needed a pee.

Jake’s reasoning flicked back into focus as he realised the lights were a little higher off the road than he would have expected for a police car. The ambulance closed in on his position. Jake breathed a sigh of relief and inhaled gratefully for the change in fortune. This was going to be his day after all! With little over thirty miles to drive with time spare in the bank, he maintained his respectful attitude towards the laws of the road.

The car he was driving was huge, big enough to accommodate the large array of technology it was endowed with. Its specification was top of the line, with every conceivable gadget included. To power them all, it had been overpowered in grunt, which made it exciting and a thrill to drive. It growled as it traversed the road, clearly alpha dog of the range and road. Thanks to its innovative technology, Jake became startled, as it started to emanate a little ‘ting… ting… ting…’ noise from somewhere in the dashboard vicinity. In puzzlement, he stiffened his outstretched arms and frantically searched for the source of the problem amongst the multitude of dials and lights.

‘What now?’ Jake aired to himself, more in frustration than in annoyance, as he risked the occasional glimpse down at the huge array of panels.

A little warning light was illuminated with flashing electronic white letters adorning it. He shivered, as if someone danced on his grave. The car had spoken to him, in the most abstract way a computer could at the time. The temperature outside had dropped below zero, warning him that ice may be present.

Jake looked beyond the windscreen, studying how the sun had begun its rapid descent behind the hills in the distance; having failed to excuse itself to him from Thursday’s tea table. The outline of fluffy clouds hung in the sky like pillow cases, illuminated by the dying orange rays of the sun. Occasionally they danced off the edges and periodically shone through the cluster of satin white perfection. The road was moist, but the verge looked as if it had been recently salted. The vegetation was regurgitating the bile slush back onto the edges of the gravelled highway, as if it were a young drunk teen, projectile-vomiting it back for all to see.

Jake switched on the central heating. After all, he was wearing little more than a small t-shirt and tight jeans. He remembered foolishly placing his coat in the bottom of the vast trunk, chucking his suitcase on top. He cussed at the thought of having to step out into the freezing cold to retrieve it. The warm fresh air instantly steamed and fogged the screen, swarming across it as if steamed by a kettle. The thin glass reacted to the frozen temperature outside, reducing visibility to nothing. This caused deep concern for Jake for a few seconds, until the heat radiated up and cleared his view.

They continued to rumble on, with traffic beginning to amass and congeal, suggesting the city was nearing. It was shortly confirmed by another sign, verifying his steady progress, stating only twenty miles to go, even though he had plenty of time showing on the car clock. To dampen his rising spirit, whilst he was staring up and reading the positive message, a ramp materialised in front of the car, lifting them up with a jolt. With no warning, or reason, a slippery smooth grey surface had been slung across the entire carriageway.

Jake resisted the urge to adjust the steering wheel, praying to god that there would be no imminent reason for using it. As the car tip-toed on, it became the centre piece of a huge ornamental snow dome, resting on display on God’s personal mantelpiece. After all, he’d just lifted and given it a bloody good shake. The energy was both rigorous and violent. The white flaky bits rose and dropped in a clump, slamming down upon the bonnet of the car.

Jake looked at the depths of the tracks now laid out in front of him, for which his car was now led by, like a train on a track. The snow levels were accumulating fast. They already appeared to be several feet deep, which was highly improbable in Jake’s mind. He blinked and re-evaluated the weather around him. ‘Bugger…’ he mouthed as realisation caught up with his being wrong.

Without conscious effort, Jake allowed the car to crawl pedestrianly behind the car in front. In fact, he wasn’t just following the car in front; he would have to make a conscious decision to leave the channels created by the cars up ahead.

‘This is what they termed a blizzard’ he thought, as the pick axe broke through the ice and into his skull.
It was near impossible to see beyond the two strips of light, projected like search beams, from his head lights. He was driving on impulse, acknowledging and ignoring the short term need for a comfort break. How he panged to stop and go. His desires were soon interrupted by the mesmerising dancing lights glistening up ahead, pirouetting and spinning in the distance.

He sat and gazed in awe at the spectacular light show, which was rapidly closing in on him. A disturbing sequence of flashing amber-red, bright-white, amber-red and then bright-white, cycled in front on him. They repeated predictively and quickly, as if being orchestrated by a talented conductor. Initially, Jake froze like a moth discovering a naked flame, his brain then rudely interrupted his viewing. It flashed death and destruction in his cortex, the fast approaching show was hazardous to his health.

He applied the brakes, a little too keenly. The anchors dug in. The state of the art technology in the car was more than willing and able to demonstrate its superiority to other lesser models. It deployed its capability to full effect, with the sophistication of a bear on skis.

The car lurched left, plunging out of the tyre guides. Jake’s instinct betrayed him! He tugged on the steering wheel, turning toward the direction of travel, in an attempt to prevent the oncoming slide, as once instructed by his father; a proficient bus driver. This normally would have been the correct decision, if he hadn’t mounted the unforeseen lake of ice. Jake’s brave manoeuvre did not conform to the expected laws of physics, a spin ensued instead.

An interesting moment in Jake’s life literally flashed passed him. He recognised what those flashing lights had been, given he was now experiencing them first hand; from a participant’s perspective. He hurtled towards the other spinning cars, like a bowling ball thrown down a freshly well-oiled and polished lane.

‘Please god… NOOOooooooo!” Jake screamed, convinced the end was nigh. “Please don’t let it ennnnnnnnnd here. My bloody moooooooother! Why aren’t I standing iiiiiiin thhhhhhe spray of the falls?’

With that proclamation, two events unfolded themselves. Some people would constitute them as miracles, whilst others would perceive them good fortune or luck. Only fate will truly understand the cards she dealt that day.

The high-tech car sparked into life like Frankenstein reborn. It decided to protect its metallic arse! Clearly, its pilot was a reckless fool and had no care in the world. The car’s auto stability control sent thousands of micro instructions, the forethought of some spotty nerd in an unhygienic bedroom, pulsing down miles of interconnected cables and wires. Its programming grained access to its sensors and tugged tight on the strings controlling its mechanical parts.

Jake sat there, hopeless; a jabbering wreck and at the mercy of the pioneering technology. It had committed treason by orchestrating a mutiny and overreached its responsibilities by withdrawing Jake’s tender as captain. He started to pray hard and loud. He knew how many bugs were likely to exist in a system like that. He pleaded for good quality control in the development cycle, given the complexity of the algorithms, now executing within fractions of a second. The digital device was highly unlikely to be free of issues or logical bombs. There was no scope or gaps for a Blue Screen of Death, a regular occurring error, experienced routinely by the computers of the day.

The miracle enveloped him and the car. Sat in the big leathery seat, he watched as two cars pirouetted about his car. In total and perfect synchronisation to his; a gold medal winning performance for any Winter Olympic ice skater. Jake appreciated the miracle occurring in front of him, as he admired his dancing partner’s eyes. Those ghastly faces burnt deep and fast into his memory. The first looked horrified, with their scream stretched tight across their mouth, whilst the second was simply boned to death.

For Jake, it felt like he was spinning for hours, but in fact, only mere fractions a second did. As his mechanical beast scraped to a halt, a deserted white highway presented itself, far beyond the other spinning cars. The auto control headed towards it, as if the car and system had eyes. Like a gigantic and angry ice sled, it stood frozen to the spot. Its engine began to splutter and puff, in displeasure to Jake’s maltreatment. The occupant sat, trying to free his mind from the disturbing film now playing repeatedly in his mind.

The endless loop slowly increased in intensity before Jake finally shook it from view. In dedication to a young shop assistance, once caught smoking outside their shop door, the car engine idled, sucking and puffing the cold air on that frozen road. An overwhelming urge grew within Jake. Getting to the airport consumed him once more. He’d come this far and survived! Nothing was now going to stop him. A new steal and determination formed, which lasted only a mere few miles, tested as he neared the airport turn off.

The off-ramp was well signed, but Jake looked at it in dread. He could see its pristine smooth surface glistening in the street light. Jake admired how the sheen of ice reflected the orange glow of the adorning lights. He imagined driving up it, visualising the moment they reached half way and then gently slid back to the base. Ascending was an unachievable aspiration. That sharp incline was now the challenge between him and his flight home; he needed to think fast.

Jake’s mind raced over a couple of ideas until it settled on a simple and basic option. He would power up the hill, but would he be able to stop? He accelerated, trying to calculate the optimum speed to reach the top but with enough time and distance to stop and stay aloft it, like a curling player sending their last stone skidding down the ice trying to stop on the bulls-eye. The car would have enough momentum to slide up, but could his skidding puck halt in time? Their travel would be slowed by gravity and the beast’s sophisticated computer breaking system would help their cause. How fast did he dare go? Was it even possible to stop the car in those sheer conditions? He didn’t have much time to judge, the ramp closed in on them hastily.

The plan started so smoothly, but disintegrated as they sailed half way up the hill. Stopping was going to be the problem! The incline was slowing them, but not quickly enough, he’d overcooked the acceleration stage. With a heavy foot, he planted the brakes into the floor and braced himself for any eventuality.

The car pulled and veered under protest of its programming. A car passed a hundred yards in front of him, obliviously traversing in front of the incoming bullet. It casually passed through the street traffic lights, now shining red for Jake. This sparked further fear into the scared little mouse. He knew he was going to trespass over their invisible barrier, no matter what colour or intensity they flashed in. Upon approach, fortune cast down on him, the lights conceded to his will and changed at the precise moment he so needed them to.

His vehicle’s speed, which was way too excessive, got Jake considering the off-ramp straight ahead. Should he sail true and back down onto the interstate? This was his only chance. Jake desperately flicked the steering wheel, one way and then to the other, causing the car to lurch into a sideways slide. The computer fitted. It protested under strain in strange noises, flashing lights and mechanical grinding thuds. A shuddered sensation ebbed through the steering wheels and into Jake’s finger tips. It hurt!

The tyres attempted to grip like the rails on the bottom of a set of skating boots, the car soon gained friction. The rapid deceleration was interrupted by an abrupt jolt. The car hit something solid. Jake sat there with the car impaled in a very large pile of fresh snow, 8ft deep. It had been scooped onto the side walk earlier by a passing snow plough. He breathed in relief, as a large puff of snow exploded into the sky, like smoke, it billowed and ballooned, mixing with grey angry exhaust fumes now pumping out of the idle car. Jake unbuckled, the car began to beep to warn him that it was still running. He shuffled over in the passenger seat and then casually stepped out into the freezing temperatures, ready to examine the damage. Like heavy rain, the wet sludge poured down upon him in protest.

It had been a miraculous day. Jake sat contently warm, the car purred whilst idling, ready to complete their journey. Not even the smallest scratch was found on the car, it was built like a tank.

He sat, reflecting on his stupidity. What if somebody had been walking there? What if another vehicle had been passing? How reckless had he been? Had it been worth all that effort? Would his mother really want him to have taken such risks?

Jake sighed an acknowledging and thankful breath. He was supposed to get home, even though he disliked the means and methods of his foolhardy attempt. He’d achieved the very idiotic mission. The word ‘Blizzard’ was now firmly etched into his comprehension.

* * *

[bing]

‘Good evening ladies and gentleman. Welcome to this delayed ten o’clock flight to England. You’ll be pleased to hear that the de-icers have completed their work and we’ve now been given permission to push back and taxi for take-off.’ A confident captain spoke with a regal voice.

‘Airport authorities have informed that they’ve cleared 1500 metres of snow from the runway this evening. The recommended clearance for a Boeing 747 is 1400 metres. Please join us in a prayer for a good head wind!’ the captain could be heard chuckling to himself over the airwaves as he hung up.

[bing]

It was three minutes past ten. Jake’s thoughts had been rudely interrupted by the captain. He was lost in the replay of his trip, a cool glass of coke sizzled on the tray in front of him. The hostesses were closing the aisle, collecting waste and preparing for take-off. He drifted in and out of the past ten hours, relieved to be alive and kicking. He could feel Old Faithful’s debt rapping hard on the door, ready to be repaid or tomorrow would get a beating of its life.

Regret consumed Jake’s face. Why had he risked life and limb for his mother? He swore, from that moment on, he’d accept no more of her manipulation. He simply could have died today. Her wishes were important, but his needs were now more important than hers; it’d taken more than twenty years to understand.

Life was fresh and new to him. There were places to see and experiences to taste. The world offered its wonders and he’d wonder no more. His future regret would only be of time running out doing what he wanted or needed to do. No more excuses, life is said to be for those living as you are soon dead, he awoke. From that seat forward, mummy’s boy rebelled. Jake grew up in a day, becoming a man… or so he thought.


The above is yet to be given a final edit

Thanks for reading! This is the second chapter of a serialised story I've been writing, part time, for the past few years. There's quite a few chapters written and I'll continue to publish, if there is a demand. I'm not a writer by profession, but I thought I'd try my hand at it.

There are explicit scenes later on in the chapters, hence they will be given NSFW warning.

I'd also appreciate any constructive critism.


Previous Chapter 1 - Strandard
My introduction

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