"Bubblegum Wrappers"
By Joshua Merchant
I walk, nonstop, along the
side of this infinite highway. It’s just what I do, I know of nothing else. I
have no friends, I have no family, for they all gave up on me a long time ago.
All I’ve ever been good at is walking, so it’s what I do. Do I know where I’m
going? No. Do I know if I will even make it to my destination? I most likely
won’t. But what else do I have? I have nothing but this long stretch
of endless Arizona
I’ve tried to hitchhike, many times actually, but it all ends in the same way.
I stick my thumb out, edge the side of the road, and watch the cars drive right
past me, like I don’t exist. Occasionally someone with a kind enough heart will
pick me up, drive me a few miles, then just drop me off again complaining about
the way I smell or something of the sort. But I don’t mind. It was a few less
miles I had to walk to…wherever I’m going.
But today was different. Sympathetic clouds covered the harsh sun,
cooling me off immensely. There were more cars than usual, giving me a greater
chance of catching a ride for a little bit. And I finally have made it onto a
straight away, allowing cars to see me from farther away, easily preparing them
to stop if they chose to. But who would? My clothes were tattered, my beard was
long, and I reeked of sweat. But yet, for some reason, just because of today, I
had hope. And there she was.
I
looked down the road and saw an object approaching from the distance. Dust
trails flew off from behind it as heat waves distorted it into some bent and
wavy object. Its roar grew louder as it came closer. Maybe it was just a mirage or something. Maybe the heat was finally
getting to my head, I thought. But then I realized it was real as it eased
to a stop right new to me.
The matte black of the 1969 Camaro gave it a
sense of strength, courage, and pure masculinity, while the chrome detailing
along the grill, side skirts, mirrors, door handles, and trunk of the car gave
it a sense of compassion and beauty. Rays of sunlight creeping through the
clouds reflected beautifully off of the glistening chrome rims and the “SS”
insignia placed on the grill of the car. Beautifully placed was the deep maroon
logo presenting itself right above the tire, spelling out the word, “Camaro.”
The elegant muscle car pulled over to the side of the road and stopped in front
me. I approached the driver’s side carefully, for who knew what the driver
could possibly be like. It was probably a three hundred pound bad ass with tons
of piercings and a long beard, or a maybe a female with a weird nose piercing
covered in head to toes with tattoos. But as the driver slowly rolled
down the window, I realized I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Sitting the driver’s seat was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
She had long blonde hair, fair complexion, and the most beautiful smile. She
looked so out of place sitting in her elegant red dress in this extravagant
piece of muscle machinery. She slid her 80‘s style leopard print sunglasses to
the tip of her nose and looked up at me, giving me a huge smile, and I couldn’t
help but smile back.
“You need a ride there? You seem a little lost?” she said. Her sweet
southern accent was music to my ears. I knew today was a good day.
“I can’t
be lost if I don’t really have a place I’m looking for, but I would love a
ride,” I said with a smile.
I went around the back of the car, admiring its beauty, and I sat down in the
passenger seat. The midnight black leather seat felt hot against my body. I
could feel the ridges of the detail against my thighs, like sitting on the back
of a soft leather snake. A pair of clichéd black, fuzzy die hanging from the
shiny, chrome rimmed, mirror, did nothing to affect the manliness felt within
the car. The pair of die just looked like they belonged. The dash board was
spotless black, in fact, not a single smudge mark, stain, crack or tear was
seen in the majestic automobile. It was flawless.
But then I smelled it, the strong odor of bubblegum. It masked my stench, and
overwhelmed my nostrils. It made me sick. It reminded me of the past.
“Do you want some water?
You look awfully thirsty,” she said.
“That would be great,
thank you.”
As I
watched her shuffle through the center console for the water, I saw a pile of
bubblegum wrappers erupt from it. Then I heard it, the smacking of her gum,
never ending, like the stretch of this desert highway. I was in there for maybe
seconds and I was being driven mad.
“So where are we headed sweety?” she asked.
“Um, uh, just…somewhere…anywhere, just go!” I said. The smell of the car...of
the gum...brought back memories that were meant to stay in the past. Memories
of my mother, my father. Memories of the family I used to have.
“Well alright, no need to get an attitude there,” she said with a giggle as she
pressed down on the peddle, the beast letting out its magnificent roar, as we
began to drive off.
We were driving, for hours; at least I think it was. I had lost any sense of
time while out on that road, this road. Terrible memories ran through my mind
as the minutes passed. Memories of that dreadful candy shopped. Memories of
blistered hands, bruised knees, and black eyes. Flashbacks of endless labor and
blows to my face if my parents felt I didn’t do my job right. To other kids the
shop was paradise, but to me it was a living hell filled with nothing but
torture and abuse. The only thing pleasant about that wretched place, at least
back then, was the sweet aroma of bubblegum that filled the air.
She tried
to strike conversation, but I was short. I couldn’t speak, not with this smell.
Every mile we drove, I was being driven closer to insanity. The wretched
stench, I couldn’t handle it anymore. When we got to a bridge, I started
throwing the wrappers out of the window. One after another, handfuls of them, I
just kept launching them out.
“Hey what are you doing?! Stop that! Those are mine!” she said as she tried
grabbing my hand, but I kept doing it. It seemed like the pile would never end.
“Stop it now!” she said, thrusting both fists into my chest. I grabbed her
hands, keeping her from causing me anymore pain. I looked at her, breathless,
and saw her eyes. They were hers. They were my mother’s.
The car started to veer to the right, but I didn't care. She screamed for me to
let go, but I wouldn't I knew how to fix it all. I knew how to fix everything.
I thought to myself, I finally know how to get rid of the smell, as the car flew over the edge.
(c) 2013 | Joshua Merchant
(c) 2013 | Joshua Merchant
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