Arthur Can't Slay THIS Beast…
"Seriously—you hang on to the handle like that, and you're gonna rip it straight out of the ceiling," admonished the driver of the 2011 Nissan Pathfinder SUV. The shiny black vehicle (dubbed 'beast' by its owner since the day she bought it) wove through seven lanes of traffic on the Los Angeles Freeway, edging toward the exit ramp onto the interchange that lead back to Santa Monica, back toward the smaller subdivisions of the city.
"I wouldn't have to hang on for dear life," said the man beside her, his eyes darting back and forth wildly, "if you would stop that infernal darting in and out between these millions of other…cars!—Christ! Did he have to cut that close?" He glared daggers at a much faster, smaller two-door vehicle, but it was gone before he could blink. With his heart in his throat, he swallowed convulsively and turned wide, nervous blue eyes to look at the driver. She seemed not at all phased, beyond a mild curse, and kept her eyes on the road ahead. "Must we travel so quickly?" He was on the verge of an all-out panic attack, not even remotely comfortable with this mode of travel. He missed his own horse, Aldieb, more than ever at this moment…even if it would have taken an entire day and some just to travel the distance that they had covered in a little under an hour's time.
Kelly glanced over, peering at the Prince through her D & G sunglasses. "We're going maybe forty, fifty miles per hour," she said in disbelief. "If we were to travel any slower, this thing would be a safety hazard, Arthur. Do yourself a favour and sit back, shut up, and—" she reached for the digital display screen, selecting the radio function. "Here, listen to the radio." She caught his suddenly offended expression and rolled her eyes. "You're freaking out so badly that you are a distraction to me, and it's my job to keep my SUV under control," she explained gently, shaking her head. She reached for his closest hand…which was clutching the edge of the leather seat rather tightly. "This is how we travel. Trust me—this is completely normal," she assured him.
They were silent, only the sounds of car travel and music filling the quiet.
Camelot's Regent forced himself to sit back into his admittedly comfortable passenger seat—though the taut band of fabric stretched from shoulder to waist was most uncomfortable. Too confining, he thought. Although, he was beginning to understand why this was part of the safety protocol, after nearly being party to three separate close calls, and passing a massive accident on the side of the road a few miles back. The level of destruction between two vehicles had been staggering…
Arthur was very uncomfortable being out of his element. Pouting slightly, he reached forward and peered at the screen in the middle of the dashboard. "What is all this?" He pressed a button that appeared to be a part of the Radio menu-
-and nearly leaped fifty feet into the air as heavy, pounding bass came from the speakers! Scrambling to change that, the Prince let out a breath as something a little less violent sounding came from the speakers.
Kelly was laughing at the man's first foray into club music. He had startled like somebody had set a bomb in front of him! "You gonna live?" she asked, turning mirth-filled hazel eyes to look at her passenger. "I mean, if you're going to have a coronary here on the freeway, I can take the next exit and take you straight to the Emergency Room. Bet my fellow Residents would love it that I'm the apparent cause!" She cackled a bit at that, at the look of fear that settled on his face. "Oh, man! You should see yourself! If a person could really leap out of their own skin, you would have already done it!" She slapped the steering wheel with an open palm. "Too funny," she added with a sigh.
Arthur watched the woman for a very long moment, unable to help shaking his head. "You really do have a strange sense of humour," he said slowly, as if talking to a mentally deranged person.
"Ah, yeah. I know." Kelly patted his hand in a conciliatory manner, still grinning. "Most of my friends share my warped brain." She shrugged. "Survival mechanism for living in the twenty-first century."