by B Anders
"Why didn’t you say anything about being from here?" Harper finally asked.
Courtney answered with a smirk, "You never asked. You just assumed I was some sun kissed blonde corn husker from the middle of the country. I was born in Boston, lived here for most of my life, but it isn’t home anymore. I travel for work all the time. I've been across the country three times in two years, Chicago, Dallas, DC, Atlanta, Seattle, New York, NOLA, and LA. God, I hate LA. Never more than three months in any one place." Courtney sighed, "Any one hotel that is. You get tired of eating room service real fast."
"That's too bad."
"It's a job." Courtney's cheeks suddenly turned red with embarrassment. "Shit, I’m sorry."
"For what?" Harper actually laughed. "For firing me? I earned my pink slip. I've done shit for the company for weeks now. Nearly blew your big project."
"Omar's project. But look, maybe, we shouldn’t talk about work," Courtney suggested. "It must be kind of awkward for you since I'm the one that fired you."
"I didn't leave you much of a choice. If I was in your shoes, I would have done the same." Harper replied. "But, not talking about work is okay with me."
“Thanks! I’ve been meaning to tell you, you look nice today, but you need to button that shirt up. You’re giving the guy in the SUV next to us way too much of an eyeful."
Harper shrugged, "That's all he'll ever get from me. Let him enjoy it."
"Suit yourself, but don't expect me to fight them off with a tire iron when we're stuck in traffic for hours on end."
"It's not the end of the world, just another commute," Harper yawned. She lovingly placed the Triple A map in a notch on the dashboard before settling back in the soft leather seat. "It's just another morning in Boston."
***
“It's a loaner,” Dad said when he wheeled into the driveway with the handicap van. “Luxury travel,” Mom said. But, you and I could only think of one thing, Graeme’s World.
When they finally pulled onto the 93, Harper sat up in her seat. She grabbed a pencil from her coat pocket and scratched in the time.
"What's your mileage at?"
"2-0-0-1-4, and why do you suddenly need to know?" Courtney was curious.
Harper scribbled the numbers down and answered, "I want to track our progress."
"Because, that's what you did before, right?"
Harper nodded, but any further explanations were going to have to wait. The sun was rising over Dorchester Bay.
"Look at that," Harper whispered.
They watched silently as the sun's first rays danced across the water to the glass wall of the Kennedy Library, and for the first time in her life, Harper was grateful for the impossible traffic jam known as the Boston morning commute. She grabbed the map deciding to make the most of the delay.
***
"Harper, it's your job to keep your brother entertained on this trip," Mom said.
I immediately stuck my tongue out and crossed my eyes at you
You snorted a laugh and gagged on your spit
"Not that entertained," Mom corrected
The traffic stayed sluggish right through Providence. It was deathly dull until Harper pulled out the map. She was scribbling wildly while they were passing the big blue bug.
"Something interesting in pest control?" Courtney asked.
Harper shrugged and said, "No."
"Great, traffic jams and a passenger who speaks in monosyllables. What a fun trip."
Harper didn't bother to answer.
Their stop and go adventure through Rhode Island seemed like it would never end. Even so, they managed to cross into Connecticut just after nine thirty. Sick of channel surfing the radio, Harper grabbed the map off the dashboard, and started marking out their route on the worn pages.
"What are you doing now?" Courtney asked. “You finished trying to break the radio?”
"I'm figuring when we can stop, and a take a rest break. How's the gas?"
"I'm good. We could probably make it all the way through New York before we need to stop for gas."
Harper chewed her lower lip. "Really?"
"Cross my heart and hope to die. Why the sudden interest in stopping?"
"What is it with you and questions?”
“I like clarity. You haven’t given me an answer.”
“We are going to have to stop for me," Harper confessed. "I got another hour tops before I need to pee."
"Perfect," Courtney said and flashed a grin. "Let's get your mind off your toilet worries, shall we? Tell me about the last time you took this trip?"
Harper turned her head to stare out the window. The trees were flying by at breakneck speed as they sat encased in a black bullet, at least that's how it seemed to Harper. The ride was immaculate with a state-of-the-art engine that virtually hummed the ninth symphony and a suspension system that negated every bump and turn effortlessly. For all her body could tell, she was at home plopped down in front of the television, except the car was a whole lot nicer and a ton more expensive than her filthy living room.
"What do you want to know?" Harper asked without looking at Courtney. “Just remember, curiosity killed the cat.”
Courtney replied, "That’s okay. I hate cats. I want to know about the other time, the trip you took down to Orlando."
“Why do you hate cats?”
“What is this? Twenty questions? And we were talking about your trip down to Orlando.”
“I tell you things, you tell me things. About yourself. Quid pro quo. Yes or no?”
“Okay, but I draw the line at eating some poor slob’s liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti.”
“Is there anything you do like?”
“Anchovies. The white ones in oil, not the dark briny ones. Hate those. Walking on the beach. God, I missed that. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. A burger, all pink and juicy in the middle with a good crust on the outside, on Texas toast. I know a place in Seattle that does one just like that. Saturday morning cartoons. My fave were the Bobomaniacs.”
“I never pictured you for a Bobomaniacs kind of girl. I figured you would be too busy playing Barbie with your bimbo friends.”
“I wasn’t allowed to have a Barbie. My father thought it was a stupid white person thing. It’s your turn now. Come on spill it. We had an agreement. I tell you what I like, and you tell me about the trip to Orlando.”
“My parents took us to Graeme’s World once," Harper said. "We drove. It was easier with the wheelchair to drive than fly back then. At least, that's what the folks said. So, we drove."
“We? Who’s we?”
“Me and my brother, the parents.”
"When was this? When did you go?"
"I don't remember the exact dates. It was sometime in the eighties. I was a tween. What's with the third degree?" Harper felt defensive. "Do you even remember the last time you were there?"
Courtney frowned and fell strangely silent. As the miles rolled by the silence in the car grew heavy. Harper was sorely tempted to reach out for the radio, but thought the better of it. Instead, Harper turned and looked at the other woman. She saw a deep sadness in Courtney that could not be hidden.
“You ever been to Graeme’s World before?" Harper asked in a hushed voice. "I mean as a kid.”
“No, I’ve never been there," there was a hint of bitterness in Courtney's voice. “Patty always wanted to go. It was her birthday wish year after year.”
“Why? Couldn’t your parents afford it?”
“My parents had issues. They fought over everything, at first it was money then it was the men my mother was seeing behind my father’s back while he was busy fucking other women. Later it was custody, visitation rights, holidays, schools, even what toys we could play with. Dad claimed Graeme the Glider was white propaganda and forbid us to go there or watch the shows on TV.” Courtney shrugged pretending it didn't matter, "Mom agreed to the demands in the custody settlement. It was easier to give up something she never intended to do anyw
ay."
“I’m sorry. It must have been hard on you and your sister.”
“Don’t be. You weren't responsible for their train wreck of a marriage. But, this is your story. So, did you have a good time? At Graeme’s World, I mean."
"It was the happiest week of my entire life. If I could freeze time, it would be that week forever." Harper thought for a moment and had a flash of understanding, "You don't know anything about the show or the movies or Graeme or the amusement park, do you?"
"Nope," Courtney grinned. "Only person in America who doesn't know anything about it now that my sister is dead."
"Oh, shit, I got to get you up to speed."
Courtney chuckled, "No need. I have no intention of going to the park. I'm on a business conference."
"Don't be ridiculous." Harper settled back to get comfortable in the seat, "Okay, this could take a while. Graeme Sugar Glider is a naturalized American citizen who emigrated from Australia. He gets a job with INS handling fairy tale characters seeking employment or asylum in the US."
"Oh, sure, that's believable."
"It's a cartoon, so everything is believable," Harper was unswayed by Courtney’s comment. "Graeme's boss is Benjamin who claims to be a North American Black Bear, but he's really a brown bear. The Director of the Office for Fairy Tales is Saul Eagle. He refuses to acknowledge he's bald."
Courtney actually laughed.
"So, Graeme has these friends from graduate school."
Courtney tried to contain her laughter, "Graduate school?"
"Yes, there's Oliver of the Eastern Fox Squirrels and his girlfriend, Tina. She's an American Red and his parents are furious. They try to get Beauregard of the Southern Flying Squirrels to break up Oliver and Tina."
"Oh right, can't have mixed marriages," Courtney winced slightly at the reality the show highlighted.
Harper was on a roll, "Oliver's best buddies are Rico, a Mexican Fox Squirrel, a white-tailed antelope named Prudence and Butchie the prairie dog. It is impossible to tell if Butchie is male or female."
"Graeme seems way ahead of its time," Courtney said.
"Kind of," Harper was hesitant. "The graduate school story was told as a flashback with the character's appearing in later episodes. Then they spun off on their own show. One of the sections at the park is Nutter's University which is all about the Graeme's graduate school years."
"Dear Lord, this is complicated."
"And, I haven't even begun to tell you about the love triangle between Harriet, a house cat posing as a Singapura and Bubbles the Tapir and Graeme. Graeme denied a visa to Harriet, but she stayed illegally and continued to try to win Graeme's love. But, Graeme's heart belongs to Bubbles."
"You know I'm never gonna remember any of this," Courtney said.
Harper was very serious when she said, "I'll write out some notes for you to study."
***
"I hate to interrupt the adventures of Graeme the sugar cube…"
Harper interrupted, "Glider, he's a Sugar Glider."
"Right, but you said you were only good for an hour, and this looks like a good exit to take," Courtney said.
"No," Harper said with a yawn. "Don't take the exit. Stay on 95. There are service areas coming up, so we don't have to come off the highway."
"But we could get off just for fun," Courtney ventured with a grin. "The Naval Submarine Base is close to exit 86. We could go take a look. Maybe have lunch staring at a submarine."
Harper deadpanned, "They'll be underwater, and you’ll just be staring at the water."
"That would be okay too. Come on, maybe there will be a nuclear one to explore."
"No," Harper was determined. "I'd rather not waste time in Connecticut. We could hit crummy traffic at the GWB."
"Where?"
Harper sighed, "The George Washington Bridge in New York. We'll be hitting it at an oddball hour. We might chug through, or we could hit shit ball traffic."
"We could take the Tappen Zee."
Harper crinkled her nose in disgust.
"What? What’s with you? It's supposed to be a beautiful view," Courtney argued.
"And, it will add hours to the trip. So, no thank you. Keep on 95 and hope for the best in NYC."
"Because," Courtney was gentle with her words. "That's how you did it the last time?"
"Yes."
The conversation ended with Harper turning on the radio. She needed to put some distance between herself and Courtney. Within the closed confines of the car, even a country music station playing honky-tonk was better than talking. She needed a reprieve from talking about her past and the vacation paradise they were driving towards. Harper knew she had left herself wide open to a potential stream of never ending questions. That was the point of the road trip from Courtney's perspective, Harper guessed. But, Harper’s motives were much more concrete. She wanted to revisit a singular event from her childhood that was close to happy. The closest she'd ever been to happy.
"Do you want to eat first or hit the ladies' room?"
"Huh?" Harper was so lost in her thoughts that she had missed Courtney pulling into the rest area.
"I asked you if you wanted food or a toilet break."
"Food."
Shaking her head, Courtney cut the engine and unfastened her seatbelt. Harper watched in silence as the other woman pushed the driver's seat down, before squirming half way into the back to get to the cooler while muttering some choice curses in the process. Harper almost got hip checked in the cheek twice before Courtney returned triumphantly from her struggles. The reward for Harper’s patience was a can of Pepsi and a single sandwich.
"I’ll split it with you. It’s peanut butter. I hate peanut butter. Shit, I forgot to cut the crust off this one."
"We can each have our own if you prefer something else," Harper said. “You could have tuna without the crust.”
Courtney shoved half the peanut butter sandwich at Harper. "Just eat this, okay. My fingers are frozen trying to get this stupid sandwich out."
Harper grinned pleased with her skill. "I sure know how to pack a cooler."
"More like colder," Courtney grumbled before taking a swig of the Pepsi. "Whoa, that'll make your fillings ache. It's almost slushy.”
"And, it will still be cold when we get to Delaware tonight."
“God, I hate this stuff. Why can’t you pack something drinkable like Dr. Pepper or Red Bull?"
“You sure you’re from Boston?”
Harper didn't realize Courtney was waiting for her to bite into the sandwich. It wasn't until the woman started talking after Harper's mouth was full that she realized she had been set up. With Harper’s mouth busy chewing peanut butter and bread, Courtney was now in a position to shoot questions without Harper changing the subject.
"Okay, time to spill some info. I've been patient, but you got to toss me a bone or two. Tell me about your brother. What was his name? What happened to him? Why was he in a wheelchair?”
Harper slowly chewed her half of the sandwich. Courtney may have planned this moment to drop her million-dollar questions, but Harper knew she was going to choose the moment she'd answer. She let her mind wander over possible responses, everything from a full out tearjerker to a quiet ‘fuck you’. By the time, she had picked the last of the peanut butter out of her teeth, Harper had settled on a reply.
"Tommy, my brother’s name was Tommy. It was an accident. The driver of the truck was drunk. Mom was driving our car. She never saw the truck barreling at us. Tommy was the only one who got hurt in the crash. He survived, but there was brain damage. His speech was, well, nobody understood him, but me. The doctors told us he would never walk or be able to take care of himself again. They classified him as needing dependent care." Harper was surprised she could be so detached as she talked about the accident. Her heart only broke on one word, her brother’s name.
"You were in the car too?"
Harper nodded.
"What happened to you?"
Harpe
r shrugged. "Nothing. I walked away without a scratch."
"That's rough." Courtney waited, but Harper wouldn’t make eye contact. "So, he was in the chair for a couple of years? Must have been difficult for everyone."
Harper gave a sad smile, "You could say that. He was in a chair for thirty-two years to be exact. Tommy was three, and I was five when that drunk came out of nowhere and destroyed our lives.”
***
"I really need to go to the bathroom!"
Courtney groaned in frustration. "You can’t be serious. We just stopped thirty minutes ago. Can't you wait until we get over the bridge?"
"Courtney I need to go, I’m going to pee in my pants." Harper claimed. "There's a hotel at the next exit we can stop there. I'll run in. You don't even need to turn the engine off."
With a loud sigh, Courtney dutifully hit the blinker and navigated the off ramp with minimal effort. The hotel was on the street right at the end of the exit.
"You know, if you’re still hungry you could grab half a sandwich and eat it over on the benches there. You might even see the Statue of Liberty," Harper said and pointed. "I'll come get you when I'm done. You won't even need to lock the car."
Courtney gave her a doubtful look. "From here? I can see the Statue of Liberty from here? You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? It’s the wrong direction."
"You'll never know if you don't go looking," Harper blurted out as she got out of the car and walked toward the sickly green welcome sign with purpose.
The sound of a car door slamming behind her had Harper pick up speed as she made her way towards the main building. Cruising a housekeeping cart left unattended on the sidewalk near a half open room door, Harper made her move and came away with the contraband. Stuffing the face cloth into her back pocket, she quickly made her getaway, not daring to breathe until she was safely back in the car.
Courtney was stomping back to the vehicle at that point. The look on her face would have been comical if not for the annoyance cleared expressed in the tension of her body.
