The Long Way Home
By
E. S. YoungChapter Twelve: On the Road Again
(pointing) This chapter's title is a bit predictable, isn't it? Seriously, is it just me, or do all chapters involving road trips bear the same title? Or at least a similar one. There's nothing wrong with that, I just wondered if a majority of writers used the same title or if it was just me thinking too much again. (blinks) I'm gonna shut up now. =X
- - -
The sun was going down by the time they were on the road. They would have left the house sooner, but Sands had insisted that he didn't need helped down the stairs.
"There's no way in hell I'm letting YOU two carry me," he had stated defiantly.
"I wouldn't be able to anyway," Lynné had replied, gesturing to her small frame.
Liam had nervously looked between the two and said timidly:
"Are we going now or . . . ?"
So they had descended the stairway carefully, Sands with his hand on the railing as a way to stable himself, Lynné with her hand around his waist as an extra precaution, and Liam in front of the two so he could stop Sands in case he toppled forward. Luckily, no such thing happened, and, eventually, they made it out to the cars, and started on their journey, Liam in his navy blue SUV along with Sands and Lynné trailing far behind them in the remaining CIA car, making sure to keep her distance.
"So . . . this plane," Liam said into his cell phone.
"We're going on a plane?" Sands demanded from the back seat.
"Yes, Sands, we're going on a plane," said Lynné's exasperated voice from the aforementioned cell phone.
"Yes, we're going on a plane," Liam transferred.
"And I'm not looking forward to it either, so quit whining," she finished.
"And she's not looking forward to it," said Liam, leaving out a few choice words. He didn't want to get shot, especially when he needed to drive.
"So tell him to quit whining," Liam heard Lynné say sternly.
"Do you want me to get killed?" he asked incredulously.
"No, I just want you to tell him what I said. And make sure you tell him it was ME who said it. He won't kill you if he knows it's coming from me."
"Lynné!" Liam cried desperately.
"What, what's she saying?" Sands wanted to know.
"Nothing," Liam assured him hastily. Sands was skeptical and knew full well that his fellow agent was lying, but didn't push it, not when he was this worn out . . .
'That bastard,' he thought, thinking of the former agent Miller scornfully.
Yeah, he really did a number on ya, didn't he? laughed the voice.
'Not really. If the cartels hadn't gotten to me before he did, Miller's shooting me probably wouldn't've been that big a deal.'
Okay, fine, but --
"How long 'til we get there?" Sands asked Liam before the voice could finish.
"Lynné said about an hour," he answered, "but we have to get rid of that other car first, so around ninety minutes."
Sands leaned back in his seat and groaned. Car rides were so irritating, not to mention boring . . . especially when one had nothing to occupy their mind since they couldn't exactly SEE.
You could try starting a sing-a-long, the voice suggested mockingly.
'You try anything,' Sands began to warn, but he was too late.
Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life fo --
'Christ, shut the hell up!'
What's the matter? the voice asked innocently.
'YOU, that's what the fucking matter is. I hated that movie and you know it.'
You did? it asked, pretending to be perplexed. Whoops, my mistake.
'Your mistake my ass. . .' Sands thought darkly.
- - -
After Lynné had properly disposed of the black CIA car (following her inner voice's idea of pushing it of off another cliff and into a lake), she climbed into the front seat of Liam's car and the rest of their ride continued in silence. That is, until . . .
"Does anyone mind if I put on the radio?" Liam wanted to know.
Lynné shook her head and continued to stare out at the brilliant red, orange, and purple hues of the sunset. Sands waved his hand nonchalantly at Liam and said:
"As long as it isn't Mexican or country."
"Yeah," Lynné agreed faintly, her gaze never leaving the window. "I've had to endure that for the last three years, enough's enough."
"Okay, I don't blame you," said Liam, laughing slightly, and he began to fiddle with the dials of the radio. At first, the stations seemed to be made of nothing BUT upbeat Spanish music or mournful country songs. For a few minutes, the sounds of trumpets, guitars, and electric keyboards filled the SUV, then, Lynné's arm reached out to stop Liam from continuing his search.
"Stop," she commanded suddenly, "I love this song."
Got a good reason . . . for taking the easy way out.
Got a good reason . . . for taking the easy way out, now.
"Ah, Lyn, not the Beatles," Sands complained.
"Oh, I don't wanna hear it, Rolling Stones Boy," Lynné shot back.
She was a day tripper . . . a one way ticket yeah.
It took me so long to find out, and I found out.
Sands muttered something unintelligible while he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the seat of the car. Lynné on the other hand appeared more pleased than Liam had ever seen her. Apparently the girl was an avid fan of the legendary rock group, the Beatles.
She's a big teaser . . . she took me half the way there.
She's a big teaser . . . she took me half the way there, now.
She was a day tripper. . . a one way ticket, yeah.
It took me so long to find out, and I found out.
Soon, his partner was even singing along quietly, her foot keeping time with the rhythm. Her voice wasn't that bad for a girl who smoked like there was no tomorrow. No, her singing was rather nice, though, it would have sounded better if the song she was singing had been a jazz tune. She had one of those 'honey and smoke' voices that would have fit it well.
Tried to please her . . . she only played one night stands.
Tried to please her . . . she only played one night stands, now.
Sands muttered under his breath and cursed his sister for being just like him. She always had to have things her way, and, for the most part, she did. Lyn had to be the only person he knew who had ever gotten away with doing or saying anything to him. Well, aside from Ajedrez, but even then Sands felt certain that there were at least a few things he hadn't let slip.
Okay, I'll agree with that. But there was still that one little thing you let her walk away with.
'And now I'm blind. There. Ya happy?'
No. the voice said bluntly. I'm blind too, fuckmook. Plus, I'm stuck with you for the rest of your life.
Doing his best to tune the voice out, Sands sank deeper into the backseat of the SUV, absentmindedly wishing for the comfortable mattress he had been sleeping on. And then there was the plane to think of. He hated planes, goddamn nauseating things that they were. Trying not to think of the things that he would have to endure the next day, Sands found himself listening to the song on the radio. And . . . oh Christ, was Fusco singing along now?
She was a day tripper . . . a Sunday driver, yeah.
It took me so long to find out, and I found out.
Shaking his head at the scene he could only imagine, Sands sighed and gave in to sleep, the last words of the song echoing in his mind . . .
Day tripper . . .
Day tripper yeah.
Day tripper . . .
Day tripper yeah.
Day tripper . . .
- - -
Gargh, sorry that was so short. I really did intend for this chapter to contain the plane ride, too, but that just seemed like a nice place to leave off. And I got Lynné's theme song in there, too! =D It's weird. The lyrics to that song make me think of the way Ajedrez betrayed Sands, yet they also make me think of how many people Lyn's lead on in her life and how it was too late by the time they found out she was lying to them. Hmm. I dunno. The tune to the song really makes me think of Lyn, though, and I encourage everyone to go out and buy a Beatles CD with that song ('Day Tripper') on it. The Beatles' 1 Album is a good one to get. R&R!