Just a Memory
"Look Daryl," Beth said, almost bouncing on the seat of the old pick-up truck. She wrapped one hand around his arm and with the other pointed to the road sign ahead. "Twenty miles to South Carolina."
Daryl nodded. It wasn't like they had a lot of directions to choose from. As long as this road kept them headed closer to Washington and they didn't encounter any massive herds, they'd stay on it. He risked a glance in her direction. Moments before she had been leaning against his shoulder, the rhythm of the road having lulled her to sleep an hour ago. There had been surprisingly few obstructions on this route and the group was making good time. They had only stopped once to clear derelict vehicles from the road.
Beth rubbed at her eyes, fully awake now. "We should celebrate."
"What?"
"Your first time," she said teasingly as she poked his arm. Her grin broad and cheerful. "First time outside the state of Georgia."
"Mhmm." He shrugged his shoulders and concentrated on driving the cantankerous old Ford F150 they had picked up three towns back. He knew Beth was getting tired riding the bike long distance so he was happy to find something with a bed big enough to haul it. She'd fallen asleep as soon as they were in the cab and on the road. He glanced in the rear view mirror at the Harley tied down in the rear, still up right and secure. It wasn't the same as Merle's old Triumph, but a good bike. "So whata we do?" he asked, unable to resist her expectant expression. "A Chinese fire drill? That's only fun if your stoppin' traffic."
"Doesn't have to be that." Beth thought for a minute. "How 'bout we just roll down the windows and breath the South Carolina air."
Daryl snorted. "What kinda celebration is that?"
"Best we can do 'til we camp," she said nudging him again. "It's something my brother Shaun would always do. Whenever we travelled, every time we crossed a state line, he'd roll down the window and take a deep breath of air. He wanted to see how the new state smelled."
"Hmm. Most of Georgia smells like rotting corpses." He hadn't meant to dampen her cheerful mood, but he saw her expression darken and he immediately felt guilty. How many times had he said something that ruined her mood? Too often. He didn't want to admit to her he felt nervous about the leaving the only state he had ever known.
Beth had turned and was looking over her shoulder at the road receding behind them. "Do you think we'll ever come back? Or will Georgia just be a memory."
"A bad memory," he said. Then immediately regretted his words again.
"Not all bad." Beth pursed her lips, her expression serious.
Daryl knew that look all too well. It was her 'I'm strong. I won't cry' look. He also knew that what she felt was exactly the opposite.
"There's good memories too," Beth added wistfully.
"Maybe," he said. Maybe in your life. He squashed the thought before he said something else hurtful.
"Before," she said thoughtfully. "The farm. But after too. Like in the prison. There was some good times. Judith. Rick's bein' a farmer. Daddy."
Beth nestled her face on his shoulder and he felt the hot tears she had tried so hard to hold back. Daryl patted her knee awkwardly, unsure what to say to comfort her.
"One day we'll go back if you wanna." He took his eyes off the road long enough to kiss the top of her head. "In the meantime, you better roll that window down, girl. We got some South Carolina air to breath."
888
Rick slammed on the brakes as the old pick-up in front of him suddenly swerved wildly back and forth across the road. "What the hell," he blurted, glancing at Michonne, who shrugged.
"I have no idea," she said.
Assuming the vehicle was experiencing major mechanical trouble and about to crash, Rick started to slow his own SUV. Then he heard a whoop of delight from the open windows of the truck. He glanced at Michonne again, as she shook her head.
"Guess we'll find out when we make camp," he said.