Procession

"Take the right exit in one hundred feet."

"Fuck," Geraldine swerved right across three lanes of traffic in an instant.

"Fuck," she said again in a much shakier voice as she bumped along the highway grooves.

The exit was backed up, bumper to bumper. A car in the lane to her left let out a long angry honk and it dodged her. Geraldine looked to her right to the driver not letting her in. The windows were tinted, she could barely make out the silhouette. She could tell the silhouette was looking in her direction. She sped up and wedged herself in right before colliding with the crash barrels.

"Asshole," she smirked.

The car let out a short honk as it let her in, defeated.

A chain of honks from behind the black car rang out.

What choice did she have? Geraldine wanted to honk back but she felt a slight tinge of guilt. She straightened out her 2021 yellow Ford Bronco before messing with the radio dial. Some song about a breakup was playing that she'd heard a million times. She wondered if Badge was with Bernadette.

The car behind her let out another short honk. Geraldine looked up and saw the car ahead of her was moving. As she sped up to meet it, she saw it had its hazard lights on.

"That's special," she said to herself.

"Stay on the road for three miles," her GPS replied. "Then make a right on Plum Ranch Court."

"Plum Ranch Court?" Geraldine looked down at her screen. "What the fuck is that?" She realized there might be some weird traffic. The yearly Spring festival was going on around the county center.

She slammed on the breaks. The car in front of her was stopped again. She let out a long honk. A chorus of honks rang from behind her as she threw up her hands helplessly.

"What the hell?" she asked the car ahead of her. She noticed there were white flags on the sides of the car. Geraldine cosidered the possibility they were handicapped. That didn't make her any less angry, she could have crashed into them.

"One, two, three," she took as deep of a breath as she could. One, two, three, she counted in her head and then slowly let the breath out. Her father had taught her how to calm down when she was young. Geraldine had fallen down the last few stairs in a rush to go outside.

With her hands and knees scraped, she could remember screaming at the top of her lungs for help. Her father rushed to her and held her quietly, but she wouldn't stop screaming. Then she remembered seeing his face, his cheeks puffed out and eyes crossed.

"Count to three and then hold your breath, like this," she could barely make out what he was saying but she understood what he was telling her.

Geraldine had a fiery spirit, quick to anger. Apparently her mom was the same.

The radio turned off. She looked up and saw the black car was easing forward again. She followed.

Things were slow, but actually moving. She got off the exit ramp and into town. There were a lot of people at Rupert's by the gas station, loud and young. It was Sunday, she judged. Then she remembered the Spring festival, and why she was stuck in traffic.

She'd met Badge for the first time when he worked at Rupert's. Badge the Bartender, she smiled to herself as the traffic crawled along. Maybe she should stop at Rupert's instead of being forced down Plum Ranch Court. Badge might be there. Bernadette might be there with him. She slowly passed it as she held her breath.

"In two miles, make a right." The GPS was providing a lot more warning now.

Still stuck behind the two black cars, Geraldine came to the bridge. She looked out over the side. The river was so far down, but she could make out tiny yellow kayaks. There were a ton of them, like a swarm of bees putting up the final defense of their hive.

It was a kayaker that found her mother on the shore that morning. Geraldine stopped looking over the edge and back to her radio. He pressed the dial. She pressed it again. She turned it back and forth, but nothing played.

"One, two, three," she took a deep breath. Her car was overdue for a tune up, but could they even fix a radio? She breathed out.

Geraldine thought back to when she was last at the Spring festival. I got rained out pretty often, but when it was nice like this, it was a madhouse. Her father would treat her to lavender lemonade and they'd spend most of the day by the stage, listening to whatever was playing. There was always this one folksy band...

"In one mile..."

She was trying to remember the name...

"Make a right..."

Founders... Hounders...

"Onto Plum Ranch..."

Geraldine punched her GPS. It didn't finish its last thought.

The car was silent now. Geraldine felt like exploding. She laid on the horn. She didn't let go. Under the cover of the honk, she thought about what Badge said to her a week ago. That she'd changed since her father passed. He admitted, maybe under threat of violence, that it wasn't a good excuse to cheat on her. Had she changed?

It wasn't just her honking now, the car in front with the white flags was honking back, the car behind her too. Even more than that. She couldn't count the number of horns she was hearing. It was a cacophony of rage.

Geraldine released her horn. The radio started again. It sounded like the folk band from years ago. She wondered if it was live from the festival. The scent of lavender floated in from her cracked window as she wiped the tears from her face.

She looked up and saw the light. The sign read Plum Ranch Court, she remembered the street now. The black car ahead of her turned right, she followed. The car behind her followed as well. Every car was turning right.

She continued following the lead car into the cemetary down the street, pulling off into the parking lot to let the hearse pass. Geraldine pulled down her sun visor to look in the mirror. Staring back at her were a pair a red eyes and a mane of frizzy black hair, like her mom's. She wiped her eyes one last time and got out of her Bronco.

A man across the lot was getting out at the same time. He was staring right at her, angrily.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"I'm sorry," replied Geraldine.

He looked her over and his anger left him.

"I'm sorry too," he said as he helped his kids out of the car. "Take care," he added as he turned away.

Geraldine walked off in the opposite direction for a few minutes until she came to two headstones. She fell to her knees at the stone that read Dana Miller. Her eyes began to well up again, her clenched fist pulling up grass from the hallowed earth. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to scream through the earth at her mom and wake her. She wanted to scream through time at her on the bridge and make her turn around. She wanted to scream at her the moment she was born, in her arms, so small and powerless.

"Don't leave me," she wanted to scream. Geraldine turned back and saw the crowd forming around the freshly dug grave.

She turned to face the other headstone: Gerald Miller.

"One, two, three..." she smiled.