A Trip to the Country

Samuel takes a trip that seems to be too good to be true.

It was the middle of the night when Samuel boarded the bus that would take him to freedom. As he ascended the steps ticket in hand, the city’s air hung hot and sticky with the mysterious debauchery of summertime darkness. The smog still clung to his clothes�" now rags torn apart by his unforgiving lifestyle. But, that was now the past. 

Samuel would go to the country, where the air was fresh and healing like a tonic of its own. This specific medicine didn’t burn when it slithered down your throat, it was the sugar-coated candy Advil Samuel stole from the pharmacy the day before. Washed it down with a Coke Zero, the phenylalanine making him feel lighter than he already was. He slumped in his seat giddy with thoughts of the blank countryside. The sun there shines bright enough to melt away the tar in anyone's soul. Consumerism existed in only mom and pop shops with fresh produce and milk taken that morning, not in corner stores lined with preservatives and sex pills. He’d been there once as a boy. Once with his father. They went fishing. Samuel heard that in the olden times people used to go there to air themselves out and get rid of diseases, of illnesses, of plague. Even women of the time would go to free themselves of hysteria because nothing ailing seemed to belong�" if it had, it was just passing through. 

He continued to watch eagerly out of the bus’s window. His head was heavy and cloudy, but that could not suppress his excitement. The ride would be four hours and two had already passed what with all Samuel’s day dreaming. He nodded off into bliss for the remaining hours and was jerked to life as the bus braked. He floated down the steps, fresh air filling his lungs with the cool, stillness of new day. Sam had a clear mind, the fog had gone away. He shook a cigarette from his battered pack and lit it, inhaling the toxins from the past. Walking along the cracked asphalt and chilly from the beginning morning, Sam flicked his half-smoked L & M down the road. He didn’t need cancer sticks anymore. He adjusted his loose pants so they would not hang as sadly around his ever-slimming waist, deciding he would patch the holes once he got settled. Of course, he didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t need to. He would find a place to stay eventually…he always had. 

By ten a.m., the great yellow sun was near the middle of the vast sky. It beat down on Sam, stinging his sunken eyes with a white light that was painful, yet comforting. Coming to a small motel, he turned left opening the screen door to the office. A pretty blonde girl with her hair in braids greeted Sam, asking what she could do for him. He asked for a room. The milkmaid angel in gingham flashed a key at him pushing a pen his way. He signed the green book’s yellowing pages admiring how his pen glided across them. 

He found his room by the little purple  circle nailed to the door reading M|30. A soft bed seemed to welcome him in the middle of the room, a hand-made quilt covering the sheets now rippled by Sam’s flop. He smiled at the quaint and obvious family owned establishment feeling cozy and safe. Warmth overwhelmed him as he grabbed the local paper’s want ads, later falling asleep with the paper across his chest. He was so happy with his new life he could cry.

It was the middle of the day when Samuel woke up. His crappy apartment in shambles. What a beautiful dream he had, what was in this s**t? Samuel’s pointed cheek bones stuck out at him in the mirror, right before he dry-heaved in the sink. He really should go to the country, he could start over. He could. He grabbed his stash of money from the top drawer in his room. It wasn’t much. The business man he robbed a few days prior was damn near broke. A twinge of guilt struck Samuel’s bones as he thought of the business man, but he shook it off quickly. It didn’t matter, the man deserved it. He had so much, he probably could spare what Samuel took. Samuel began to walk to the bus station, he saw his main man on the way, stopped him. Picked up 3 bundles. Walked back to his crappy apartment. Shot into his veins that were becoming compromised. There was no way he could snort it anymore, his nose bled too much, bled the stuff away. Samuel remained in the corner, head bobbing after the normalized euphoria hit him a bit less than last time. He stared at a deep crack in the wall that spread to the ceiling. He nodded off. Maybe he would get to the country next week.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is quite an interesting story that is also well written. Except for his bad behaviors, this Samuel can definitely relate to narrator Samuel and his longing for a clean life in the country. Perhaps his dreams will eventually cause him to change his life and do that which he really desires.