Hey everyone, it's been a while. - Why do I always start off my posts like that? Maybe I just need to post more. Then again the things I'm writing are taking me a long time. I hope they're worth it.
Anyway, I hope you're all well and have enjoyed 2021 for all that it is, which... being honest isn't much. These past two years have been really hard.
Escapes from reality are needed now more than ever - and so I present to you, my latest installment of the 3 Part Weekend #Freewrite hosted as always by the lovely @Mariannewest and the folks over at the #Freewrite community. You can find the original post HERE
There are only two communities I really delegate to, they are the communities I love the most. Those include @theinkwell and @freewritehouse. May they stand as pillars of the Hive ecosystem and a home to writers across the world.
Without further adieu
Gone to Mt. Iso
She thought for a moment. "Air-conditioning." She said.
"What about it?" Jack grunted as he rummaged through a box of spare parts.
"We're going to need it." Carla added in a ponderous voice. "I've never been to the desert before. I imagine it gets extremely hot." Jack paused in his search. He nodded contemplatively than began chuckling.
"What's so funny?" Carla said, placing her hands on her hips. "Can't you take this seriously?" She looked annoyed. Jack had only just met her, but he'd seen that face on a dozen ex-girlfriends more often than he'd admit. He had a supernatural ability to annoy women, it seemed. If only he could monetize that talent somehow.
He set the heavy box down and looked at her. "Life jackets." He said. Carla raised an eyebrow and shifted her weight onto one leg; a tell-tale sign of vexation and impatience. Men always did that. Dodged her questions that is; it didn't matter who they were or how long they'd known each other, they all did it. It was a game to them. A way of signaling how much smarter they 'thought' they were.
"What about them?" She said as flatly as she could.
"If we were sailing I suppose you'd tell the Captain we'd need them too. I bet it get's awfully wet out there on the ocean." He laughed. Carla wanted to slap the shit eating grin off his face, but she had to admit his laughter was a little infectious - even if it was at her expense.
"Fair enough." She swallowed some pride then relaxed a little.
"Don't worry, miss. I've driven the Tortoise Straight a dozen times in that very rig." Jack pointed at an old decrepit school bus that Carla had mistaken for scrap metal.
"That thing?" She looked at it with a mix of fear and disbelief. It was a wreck; a depressing thing, decades old with only a hint of its original yellow paint remaining. The body was a rusty, dented up old husk. All the glass was gone save for the windscreen, and the seats didn't look upholstered at all. It baked in the desert heat.
Carla wore a wide brimmed hat that that protected her pale features from the sun, though now they were more of a fearful bone-white. Jack laughed again. There was something about her that goaded him on, almost forcing him to tease her.
"What? Don't like what you see?" Jack stood up and wiped his hands with a rag. "It's a bit like me, you see. We might not look like much at first, but turn us on and we'll go for days. We'll get you to your destination, miss. No worries." Jack held it for a moment, then burst out with laughter. He was very amused with himself. She however, blushed. Although she didn't mean to she always did whenever anyone said anything crude.
"You'll be satisfied by a job well done, if you know what I mean?" He winked at her then bust our laughing again.
"Mr. Polsinszky!" Carla gasped, hand to mouth. "How utterly inappropriate!" She turned her head away in utter embarrassment. In truth she kind of enjoyed it, but it would be a cold day in hell before she'd let that show. It had been so long since she'd enjoyed the company of men, though she wasn't sure if she was enjoying this particular encounter yet. Most of the time they annoyed the living hells out of her.
"Aaah fine. You'll come around, or you'll kill me. One of the two." Jack took a swig from a water bottle then wiped his forehead. "It's a three day drive to Mt. Iso, plenty of time to find a sense of humor, or to make a shiv. Only takes a few hours to fashion one of those." There was a hint of something other than amusement in his voice. It sounded like guilt. A memory perhaps?
"The roads that wind through the desert can be rough. Sometimes the winds are so strong they bury the roads with sand." Jack continued to hydrate then offered the bottle to Carla, which she politely declined.
"What will we do if that happens?" She asked with pretend confidence.
"Easy. We follow the wind." He began to load a backpack with various mechanical tools she couldn't recognize.
"Follow... the wind?" She began to rethink this whole expedition.
"Well yeah, of course. Mt. Iso is West, and all winds blow Westward through the great Barion." He said it like it was common knowledge. "When the bus reaches its exit, we follow." Jack said as he zipped up his backpack.
"Follow... the wind?" She said again with growing skepticism.
Jack looked at her. "Yes. You know, the thing that blows from your ass? The very same wind. We follow it. So when I ask you to stick your behind out the window be a good girl and do it." This time he sounded annoyed. Jack hated when people brought his competency into question; like he hadn't already mentioned he was used to this trip.
"Why... I never!" Her legs drew together and her face flushed with anger. Carla went to speak but Jack cut her off. "Just hop on the bus, will you? We're leaving in a few minutes." Carla didn't move. Jack tried again in a conciliatory tone. "Look, you've probably been up for what - 30 something hours now? The trip from the cities is a long one, but not as long as this will be." She seemed to mull that over.
"Is there even anywhere to sleep on that death trap?" She said without looking up. The fatigue was showing more than it had previously. Boy she really was exhausted.
"Yes, there's a whole compartment in the back just for you. A bed, a shitter and even a shower." Carla cocked her head at that. A shower sounded so good right now. Jack frowned. "There's only enough water for one use. It all comes from the same reservoir so it's our drinking water too, so be quick. I know how you city folk like your twenty minute showers. That'll kill us out here."
Realizing her trip would have at least -some- creature comforts relieved her more than she realized. She straightened her back and masked her fatigue with a charming smile. "So concerned with dying. My God you sand-landers are a dramatic bunch." Before he could reply she extended the handle on her suitcase and wandered off toward what would be her home for the next three days.
A decrepit old school bus. It's metal shell bore the name of a long forgotten school district. A relic from the old world. Carla felt like she was entering a bit of history as she alighted the aluminum stairs.
It was oppressively hot. Sweat beaded on her arms and forehead within seconds. No wonder the windows were gone or else the metal chassis would be like an oven. She curled her nose. It smelled like sweat, dirt and something else foul she couldn't quick identify. The interior was a reflection of the exterior; dust, grime and various bus related detritus littered the isle. Far in the back was a (thankfully) opaque maroon curtain that concealed a back compartment.
The luggage racks were stuffed with bulging duffle bags that extended the whole way to the back. Several of the seats were torn out to fit what looked like a septic system. A little wash basin stood between two long seats and on the opposite side was a little gas stove with three burners. By the driver's compartment was a mini fridge that hummed away.
Aside from the filth she was actually quite impressed. 'Not a bad little rig you've got here, Jack.' She thought to herself. Her dad would be impressed, then again he was an outlander at heart. Carla ventured to the back avoiding a huge 18'' socket wrench that stuck out into the isle. She pulled away a curtain and revealed an incredibly neat, and clean looking living space.
White linens pulled tight over a double wide single bed. A mattress that looked soft enough to swallow her whole; as though she could sink into it forever and never return. Before she realized it that's exactly what she was doing. She fell onto the bed. IT didn't matter that it was oppressively hot, or that she was fully dressed; all that mattered was rest. Sweet, wonderful rest.
Somewhere above her a breeze started blowing. Through drooping eyelids she saw a little oscillating fan above the foot of her bed. It was still a moment ago. Jack must of turned on the power. What a Godsend of a man.
Maybe she wouldn't kill him after all. Then she fell asleep.
Thanks for reading. I truly appreciate it. Thanks again to @Mariannewest for her continued dedication to our little writer's group. My hopes is that we may find a fellow mod to assist her in this Sisyphean effort. She is truly a gift to us all.
Thank you again and have a lovely day.
~ Simon Tonkin.