Everything Turns Grey

He closed the door. He stank. Body odor and rain. He was headed to Santa Fe. He reached his hand over, “Jerry.”

I shook his hand and told him my name. The desert had been a long drive of rain, a long drive of thinking about the worst possible things, for no reason. Vacant is worse than fear. He looked around my car, then over his shoulder to the back, where the theatre seats were folded up above my dog on his king size bed. He leaned back, “Nice ride, man.”

“Thanks.” I reached back into my backpack and felt for it, then pulled it up and handed it to him without taking my eyes off the road. Deodorant. Old Spice. “Here.”

He took it, “Is it that bad?”

“Yes. But don’t take it personally. Though there’s no reason to make the ride suffering.” I glanced at his expression, and I felt bad. I gave him a fast smile and nodded at the road, “Not to borrow trouble. Just being honest.”

“No, fuck, man. If it’s that bad.” He reached up each side and solved the problem. The day grew brighter there. He reached back to replace it.

“Keep it,” I said.

He thought about it, then shoved it in his backpack, “Of course. Thanks, dude.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I hadn’t picked up a hitchhiker in years, but in the last year, I’d picked up three, counting him. No, in the last month. Success had found me late, but it found me with my memory in full. The only thing that changed me from being him was stubbornness. But he was younger. Tall, lost, six week beard. He didn’t have to be out in the wind, but he let it happen. I checked the time on my phone. I had to be in Albuquerque in the morning. I was dropping him off outside of my hotel. From there he only had 40 miles or so. He was coming from Manhattan Beach. Something about his father or his mother and then a restraining order, then a girl he knew in Santa Fe. I was only half there. The other half of me was lost in the music, Agent Orange, and the all the grey spiked upon the desert. He fell silent. I scratched my beard.

“How long?” he said.

“About two months. I need to shave.”

He looked over at me, “You know what you call a person without a beard?”

“What?”

“A woman.”

I laughed. It had been awhile. All the thoughts of nothingness dropped away for the moment and we laughed there. It made him more human to me, more flesh. The last year of my life had been waxed over by a long and steadily dull riff. My ears hummed with it, my heart was soaked by it. The road was the only answer. Some things never changed. I looked over at him, “Restraining order?”

He shook his head and gave me an apologetic stare. I looked back at the freeway.

“Spill it. Fuck it.”

“I was living with my parents in California, and I met this girl who lived in the apartment downstairs. We went out for drinks, and ended up walking pretty far together, dude, bar to bar, and she liked my sense of humor, and I liked her. After a few more vodka doubles we were walking down the beach, then cut through a patch of trees. All fucking night, man, all night, we were cracking dark jokes, ripping on people in the bars, totally talking shit, right? So, when we were walking through that patch, on the trail or whatever, she says, ‘It’s so fucking cold out here.’ And I say, ‘What are bitching about? I have to walk back alone.’”

I broke out laughing so hard it woke up my dog. He sat up and looked around. Jerry watched me laugh and he lost it, started laughing, beating his knees. We went on laughing until we couldn’t anymore. He took a deep breath, “Thank fucking god you get it, man. I was only joking, I really was. I thought she would be impressed. I mean, the joke wasn’t mine, but I improvised it, totally freestyled a pervert joke into a joke between two adults. Anyway, she takes off running, totally hauls ass and disappears. I fuckin’ get lost, and when I get home a couple of cops were there, and blah, blah, blah. Long story short, she got her restraining order, and I had to leave. My parents live too close, well within 500 feet of her. They didn’t know what to think, so I called my ex and she told me I could stay with her, but I had to get a job. Gave me two weeks to get a fucking job.”

I looked over at him and we broke up laughing again. The rain came down and the road was the same, and we drove toward New Mexico.