The Road to Reflection

Thirty-Three reversed the car out of the bay and exited the parking lot onto the road. "240 miles to daily checkpoint," he said as he propelled the vehicle northward. Waves of sunlight flickered off the surrounding dunes, dazzling him, and he tossed his head side-to-side to shake away the glare. Accelerating hard, the car quickly reached 65 mph, and he lowered his cap.

"Ah, we got six hours," said Seventy-Five, biting his fingernail.

Thirty-Three navigated the chicane. "Yeah, only six hours after your third bowl of soup."

"Well, the soup sucked, as always, if that's any consolation."

"Didn't the first two bowls suck as well?"

"Of course. But it's a drag not to get your fill."

"Well, you know what is more of a drag?"

"Yeah, yeah, the abyss, I know. You got enough time; just don't stop again." Seventy-Five removed his cap from the glove box and put it on. "I'll drive some tomorrow. These wrists are getting old, man. I'm sure these bends are getting sharper."

As they proceeded in silence, the sun baked them in the open-top vehicle, and they frequently wiped the sweat from their foreheads. The desert stretched to the horizon on either side of the winding road, and luscious green mountains lay before them in the distance, a thousand miles away. Towering high like a wall, the thick woodland was shaken by whispering winds that were voice-like and seductive. The two passengers consumed it all. 

After twenty minutes on the road, a young girl could be seen to the left playing alone by a blanket.

"On her own out here. That's rough, man," Seventy-Five said.

"She'll be fine, believe me. We have ground to make up before midnight."

The car continued forward, with its driver fixated on the road. The black tarmac ran infinitely smooth around every bend, but as it parted the desert, the swirling sands blurred its edges. Two hours passed, and the sun began to set. The mass of greenery far ahead glistened sporadically as the light caught the wet leaves, the rays ricocheting back and forth between the trees.

"I could just bite one of those leaves right about now," Seventy-Five said, grinning.

"What, dunk one in your soup?"

"Nah, I wouldn't want to ruin it, man."

"A little vegetation never hurt any meal."

"No, I mean, I wouldn't want to ruin the leaf." The pair laughed.

As the car rolled on, they passed a bathtub wedged into the dirt to the right. A thin layer of sand uniformly coated the moist interior, and the taps had started to rust. Thirty-Three watched in his rearview mirror as it disappeared behind them. Neither passenger mentioned it.

An hour later, they approached the checkpoint. A uniformed man was standing by a raised platform at the side of the road, holding a handheld device. Thirty-Three slowed the vehicle until it came to a standstill.

"Checking in," Thirty-Three said to the man. The two passengers each held out a card to the driver-side window, and the man scanned them.

"You're free to move ahead," the man said as he waved them on. Thirty-Three nodded and continued north.

As night drew in, the stars sparkled across the cloudless sky, causing the acres of dunes to exhibit their fluctuating shapes in the landscape. Thirty-Three gazed silently forward as Seventy-Five slept, but the green mountains of day had now faded to a featureless black. He sunk an elbow into his colleague's ribs as they reached the sleeping block. "Wake up, SF, we're here."

"Is this Sleeping Block A?" Seventy-Five asked. "I don't sleep too well here. The red curtains bug me."

"Then lie the other way."

The two men exited the car and headed toward the entrance.

"It's 10:10 pm," said Thirty-Three. "I'll meet you back out here at 6:30 am. No later, or it's you and the abyss."

 ***

"How'd you sleep? How were those curtains?" Thirty-Three asked the following morning as he approached Seventy-Five waiting by the car.

"Ah, forget about it. I didn't even turn on the light. You want me to drive?"

"You rest those wrists, old man. I'll take all 780 miles today." He shoved his colleague to the side, opened the driver's door, and entered the car. Seventy-Five joined him several seconds later, and the pair set off north up the road.

Thirty-Three tried to focus but was distracted by the cascading shadows dancing over the mountains ahead. Above the trees, clouds had gathered, each being carried by the winds in various directions. Patches collided with others, arranging in complex masses, and the rich blue sky behind fractured them, forming river-like networks. Impressions of life and civilization collected in the fluffy white but quickly dissipated, and as faces formed, the changing pitches of the wind accompanied each with a faint voice.

"The sky is talking to us early today, man," Seventy-Five said.

"These winds are making all kinds of crazy noises up there. Like water running... I want to eat. Next place, we stop."

It was more than an hour before they reached the gas station. Thirty-Three tossed his colleague the keys. "OK, you fill her up, and I'll grab the food. Two bowls max today." He walked inside the complex and into the cafeteria.

At the table, Thirty-Three watched as Seventy-Five slurped his soup. "You know it doesn't look like you hate it."

"Hmmm."

"So, what do you do?"

"I just slurp as much as the spoon will hold, and I swallow it real fast."

"No, I mean, what do you do for a job? Usually?"

"Finally, he asks... I'm a tiler. I tile rooves. I'm a roofer."

"Noble profession. I can see your hands are all beat up."

"How about you?"

"I was in finance. Worked on Wall Street."

"Wow. No wonder you hate the road so much. No sign of a skyscraper out here."

"Ah, working in the city wasn't so great."

"Yeah, at least roofing kept me in the suburbs. You done?"

"I only got the bread. Dry as the desert."

The pair finished their meals and returned to the car. "You want me to drive," Seventy-Five asked.

"Nah, I'm good. You'll only dawdle." 

They set off again on the road. The migrating shadows on the mountains ahead were dizzying, and, for respite, Thirty-Three repeatedly looked to his mirror, where the sky met the horizon. He spotted a bathtub approaching on his right, but closed his eyes momentarily as they passed.

"This desert is starting to bug me, SF," Thirty-Three lamented. "The clouds, the shadows, the dunes; it's overwhelming..." As he spoke, the small girl by her blanket came into view on the left side of the road.

"Don't look at it, man," Thirty-Three barked. "We still have a few hours to squeeze in before midnight."

As they approached the girl, she stood upright and turned to Seventy-Five. He looked her in the eye as they passed.

"She was smiling, man. Stop the car." Seventy-Five said. He looked back sharply as her smiling face faded into the distance.

"It's a mirage, SF. Ignore it."

"She smiled, man."

"She always smiles."

As the night drew in, the stars twinkled wildly. Seventy-Five grew nauseous as each cascade captured his attention in every direction. "Pull over, TT; I think I'll spew."

"We pull over now; you'll be spewing in the abyss back there. And I'll leave you to jump in after it. Besides, checkpoint is right on us."

Seventy-Five turned and looked back up the road before composing himself. Within minutes, they closed in on the uniformed man. Slowing to a standstill, they held out their cards, and the man scanned them. 

"You're free to move ahead," said the man, and he waved them on. Another hour passed, and they pulled into the sleeping block.

"How long have we been on the road now, SF?" Thirty-Three asked.

"Long time, man. Must be over two years."

"Two years, damn… It's 9:50 pm. Be back out here no later than 6 am." Thirty-Three exited the car and headed into the building."

***

The following day, the pair sat in silence for much of the morning. The sun blazed as the winds rose and fell in pitch; the clouds crawled and turned. The dunes and the trees were a canvas for ephemeral pictures, evoking places and people from one split second to the next. It was a cluster of distractions in all directions.

Seventy-Five gazed ahead to the mountains, a thousand miles away. He scratched the dashboard with a bitten fingernail. "Hey, TT?"

"What?"

"How do you think the abyss feels? Do you think it hurts?"

Thirty-Three paused for several seconds, then spoke: "They said the fall would be painless, but they said many things about this road. I don't buy it."

They returned to silence for over an hour until the girl and her blanket were visible ahead to the left. She pranced in circles as the car neared.

"Look straight ahead, SF," Thirty-Three ordered.

Ignoring his colleague, Seventy-Five watched her closely. She was smiling again. He leaned to his left, facing toward the girl, but as they passed, the smile drained from her face, and her left arm rose, pointing at him sharply. Seventy-Five jolted, pulling himself back into his seat.  "This stuff is messed up, man."

"Just block it out," Thirty-Three replied. As he said this, a bathtub approached to his right. He averted his eyes but failed to ignore the sound of the water flowing hard from the tap.

"You see that, man?" Seventy-Five said, leaning over his colleague. "The bath had running water. That was nuts."

"I heard it, shut up."

"OK, man, sorry. Why's it so hard anyway? You regret doing it?"

Thirty-Three tapped the brakes, then brought the car back up to 65 MPH. "Yeah, I regret doing it and where it got me."

"So, you miss her then."

"No, I don't miss her, alright? But she didn't deserve that. Alison was out of control, but she didn't deserve to die. Why? Do you miss your wife?"

"Nah, man. I can't stand the woman."

"So, why didn't you kill her instead."

Seventy-Five scratched the dashboard again. "Sierra took everything from me. My daughter was the one thing I had left, but I had the power to take her from Sierra, so I did. Do I regret it? Now I do. But, when I left the house the final time, and Sierra gave me that look from the window, shutting the curtains on me like I was a piece of trash, I didn't regret it. She had no idea of the horror I had committed upstairs."

"You're a damn psychopath. They should have fried you."

"Don't you know I know that? So, TT, did you feel sane as you held your wife under?"  

"Hmmm."

 "...And when the bath water stilled and Alison went quiet, Were your faculties intact?"

"Leave it."

"And when you rinsed the bubbles off your bruised hands, how did you feel then? Were you a picture of mental health?"

"That's enough!"

"Alright, alright, just drive," said Seventy-Five, calming. "Is that her?"

"In the mountains?"

"Yeah, over there to the right?"

Alison's face formed in shadowy green across a portion of the mountain's side. The blowing of her hair was manifest by the swaying of the trees. Thirty-Three focused on the road, but his eyes were repeatedly drawn to her solemn stare.

"Yeah, that's her," Thirty-Three confirmed.

"She's pretty, man."

Thirty-Three clenched his teeth and raised the pressure on the accelerator. The car continued at 65 mph.

"Come on, man. You know it won't go any faster," Seventy-Five moaned.

Thirty-Three tried to focus on the road but glanced again at the image of his wife in the trees. He held her gaze until a stiff gust of wind blew, and, with her left eye, she winked. He slammed on the brakes, and the car stopped.

"What do you mean she's pretty?" Thirty-Three shouted. It's just a load of trees in the wind. How can a load of shadows and green be pretty?" He left the car, heading back in the opposite direction on foot. He had made it fifteen meters before Seventy-Five exited the vehicle and followed him, catching him up with a short sprint.

"Come on, man, you never do it," Seventy-Five said.

The pair walked a further thirty-five meters, reaching a precipice. A canyon continued to the horizon with no end in sight. Left and right, the edge ran on endlessly, and its depths were pitch black and infinitely deep. The smell of metal and stone wafted up from the darkness.

Thirty-Three leaned over and stared into the abyss. 

"Hey, TT, I'm sorry," said Seventy-Five.

Thirty-Three dangled his right foot over the edge. "I could use a lie-down."

"Ya want me to drive? I'll finish the day."

"This isn't about the driving."

"You chose the road, man. They told you what this was. The warden laid it all out. But if you want to give it up, do it, I dare you. I'll carry on alone." 

"How can this much pain be a preferred choice?"

"You think you won't be hurting in that cell? All that pain will be waiting for you when those bars slam shut. This road is as free as they will ever let you be now. The fresh air, the sun, the clouds, the trees; it will all be gone, but the torment will follow you into the abyss. You'll realize that before you even reach the bottom."

Thirty-three lowered his body and sat on the edge. "They say the road is more humane. But humanity is more than a bit of fresh air."

Seventy-Five chose to remain silent. After a minute, Thirty-Three stood up, and the pair began walking back to the car.

"You know, all that back then?" Seventy-Five said. "That stuff I said in the car. Unforgivable stuff... I never confessed that to anyone before. Not forthright."

"And?"

"I'm just saying, taking the road with you isn't so bad. I'll drive for the rest of today." 

Thirty-Three tossed him the keys without replying.

As they both sat in their seats, Seventy-Five started the ignition.

"Don't dawdle," said Thirty-Three. "Just hit 65 MPH and don't look at anything."

"I know the rules, TT. But we're six hundred miles away. Don't you still want to eat?"

"This road has sapped my appetite. But it feels something like freedom for now. Just get me to that checkpoint before I change my mind."