Chapter 3, Insert Pirates Here
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
They drive all of that first day, with the sun burning their eyes in the rearview mirror, and into the night, taking turns napping in the backseat. The trip began aimlessly, until the decision to head east was made by David, after Christopher admitted to having never seen the ocean.
"Seriously?" David asked him. "Never?"
"Never," Christopher confirmed.
"Now that is a problem."
David's not sure they'll actually make it as far as the coast, but he's willing to humor Christopher for a while. His boss shouldn't mind if he misses a day or two, which is about as long as it should take for his mother to realize he hasn't been home.
"Pull off here," Christopher instructs him, pointing to the upcoming rest stop. It's after midnight and the shadowed parking lot contains only a few cars with license plates from far western states and one from Canada. Inside, the bright fluorescent lights don't hide drab walls that contain a cafeteria, a gift shop, and of course, restrooms. David tells Christopher where he's going and heads for the latter.
"I'll get some grub," Christopher says and starts toward the cafeteria area. When David exits the bathroom five minutes later though, Christopher is nowhere to be seen. David rounds the cafeteria three times, before starting back for the restrooms. He can't help but think that this may all have been part of Christopher's plan.
The bathroom is empty, save for one grizzly trucker who winks at him on his way out. David shudders and curses Christopher's name on the way to the gift shop.
Though he restrains himself from going out to the parking lot to see if the car is still there, he can't help but imagine Christopher, flying down the dark highway, radio full blast and no headlights, because he always forgets to turn the things on, laughing like the maniac that he really is at the thought of David here alone, fending off the advances of desperate truckers with beer guts. He should have held onto the keys.
"Hey, General!" Christopher greets from where he stands beside the register. Ignoring the cashier, David marches up to him and grabs his arm.
"Where the hell were you?" he demands. Christopher smiles nervously and holds up two bags and sodas.
"I got food."
"I couldn't find you."
"Worried I left without you General?" Christopher asks and then laughs at the embarrassment evident on David's face.
"No," he sputters quickly and releases Christopher's arm. Christopher laughs and reaches into another bag to pull out a shirt.
"Got this for you. The one you're wearing is getting kind of rank," he says. David eyes Christopher's gift suspiciously and pulls at the neck of his shirt. He'd worn it last week in ninety-degree heat to mow the lawn and then it had lain in a heap of dirty laundry until Christopher dragged it out. Needless to say, he could use a change.
"I smell enough of you over there," Christopher smirks.
"Funny," David remarks, unfolding the t-shirt. It's black with a white print of a pirate in front of crossed baseball bats and the words 'Pittsburgh Pirates' across the top.
"Pittsburgh Pirates," David reads, appalled. "Christopher, I can't wear this."
"Why not?"
"Pittsburgh," David tells him with wide eyes, as if it should be obvious. "That's like treason."
"Yea, but pirates," Christopher defends happily, apparently oblivious to anything resembling loyalty in baseball. "Who doesn't like pirates? Arrgh," he growls at David, to the other boy's great horror.
"Who doesn't like pirates," David mocks in a low voice, but stops by the bathroom again anyway, to pull the clean shirt on with little more grumbling.
"I was looking at the map," Christopher tells him on the way out. 'We could make it to the coast by tomorrow afternoon if we keep driving."
"No rush," David replies, barely catching Christopher's look of disappointment at his words.
"Yea," the blonde agrees. "No rush."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Chapter title comes from advice that (I believe) came from the Nanowrimo site. When all else fails in fiction, insert pirates. Ai'nt that the truth? And anyway, I mean really, who doesn't like pirates? (excluding David, whom we know to be a fool) :) -hi