Miles

The bag was fairly stuffed, something he had suspected as he hustled out like the Hamburgler. Their order had been accompanied by an overflowing large fry and a McFish sandwich. Seeing the processed fish patty made Tim grimace a bit. Who still liked these besides old people? Also, him. He loved them.

“You’re not dating this stuff you’re eating it, lets go goo-goo eyes.” He was actually a little glad when she said that. He had been a bit stuck staring at that sandwich. Not that he’d admit that.

“Ha ha.” He handed her a McChicken and offered the fries. She shoved a handful in her mouth as she pulled up to the pump.

“Fill it up please!” She managed to get this out admirably well through a mouth full of smooshed fried potatoes to the young man who approached.

He simply nodded and went to the side of the car, Rachel pulling the latch for the gas cap like she’d done it a thousand times before.

Rachel used the time to roll up her window and get her food ready. She popped a straw in her soda and took a sip, squinting in appreciation. She unfolded a McChicken onto a napkin on her lap, taking a monstrous bite before putting it back down. She chewed with a little more moaning than Tim would necessarily consider normal but it was endearing.

Tim noshed on a few fries while he pondered the food. He decided to eat a double cheeseburger first, fast in case anything weird happened. Anything else weird. Further weirdness. He had never been in any sort of military but he was pretty sure the adage was to eat and sleep whenever you had the chance. The largely unspoken half of that saying tickled up from his subconscious…because you don’t know when you’ll be able to again.

Rachel waved her thanks to the station attendant as he finished and they sped away. She had already finished her sandwich and was one handedly unwrapping her second. To their right was a multitude of slumbering eighteen wheelers, behind them the sun was starting to touch the earth.

“Where are we going?” she had merged back onto the highway and they fled south.

He pulled out his phone, balancing it with the burger in his left hand.

“Roanoke Virginia is our first stop.” There was no particular reason he had chosen that town except that it was on their route and the name sounded vaguely familiar.

“Ugh no.” She wrinkled her nose. “My husband saw the play that they put on.” He had no idea what she was talking about. “I think that place is haunted or something. Find somewhere else.”

Her reasoning seemed a bit tenuous to him but he used his greasy fingers to look for other close towns just off 95. After slightly longer then usual and a pause for a screen wipe Tim found somewhere that seemed good.

“Lexington? It’s right on our route.” This town name also stirred some memories, primarily the civil war. Which was probably ok.

“Perfect.” She sped up as if to reach this new destination faster, their speed rising towards 90.

Tim found himself without anything to do in as long as he could remember. For his entire adult life, he could always count on his phone to occupy him. Now he couldn’t see the point of any of the information or entertainment it would uncomplainingly offer him. He didn’t have much of a social media presence. A twitter account he never tweeted on and a Facebook page he updated a handful of times a year. Probably some defunct Tumblr, snapchat, Instagram and shit in the forgotten part of cyberspace and his brain. A zoo worth of abandoned webkinz. Using any of that to interact with other people seemed wrong right now. He had no one he cared to check on and he wasn’t even sure if it would work. He didn’t know if he was even in the same time, same reality as everyone else or stuck while they progressed through this time and past him?

He had been a pretty big sports fan…”had been” being accurate from the moment of the accident onward. Tim stared at the phone in has hand, absently feeding himself his first burger. He switched the GPS to active and kept his eye on the blue triangle that the world on the screen scrolled past.

He crumpled the wrapper in his hand and tossed it in the half full bag. In exchange he pulled out the fish sandwich in its almost box. He put it on his knee and flipped the top open. Out of habit he smooshed the buns around to spread the tarter sauce. He proceeded to eat, gaze unbroken on the glowing symbol that represented him and Rachel and their place in this world.

They finished eating in relative quiet, Tim shoving their refuse in the now empty bag. He rolled up the top and kicked it to the front left of his footwell.

“Go ahead.” He rested his right arm against the window and lowered it a few inches. “Smoke.”

She flashed him a guilty look, he had read her mind this time. Enough of his buddies growing up had smoked that he knew after eating she’d be itching to light up.

“I hate doing that.” She said this with such earnestness that he laughed.

“I don’t think it matters. At all. Having a few won’t exactly ruin the car and it’ll save us time.” He was starting to get his feet under him here. They were past worrying about the health effects of cigarettes, and if this car did end up back with its owner, they could hang a damn air freshener.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She had heard what she wanted and lit a cigarette. She rolled down her window a little over half-way as soon as the tip caught fire.

She smoked and managed to look slightly ashamed the entire time. Tim left her to sin, fiddling with the radio. He needed some sound to fill his head. Figured he’d be able to find a pop or rock station that they would both be at least ok with. He was very wrong.

“I hate this.”

“Eww!!”

“Change it!”

“What the fuck is this, Joe Piscipo?”

Where they landed, he would never have guessed.

“Ohh…leave this! I bet you don’t know who this is!” She was right, the fuzzy pop drivel coming from the speakers could have been anyone.

“Paris Hilton!” She crowed in delight at this bit of bar trivia.

With a terrible song as their accompaniment, they drove into the deepening night towards their eternity.