The Drive

A story about a drive undertaken by a son and father.

"Oh come on move it, already!"

I looked on as my father yelled at the car that was in front on us, obviously irritated at the long winding line of cars in front of us. I gestured to him to be patient. He didn't take notice of it, as he was immersed at throwing abuses at the teenagers at our side, telling them to keep their distance. I knew he wasn’t the greatest father in the world, but I was glad that I found myself sitting next to him, watching him throw expletives at will. I rarely got to see him, let alone spend time with him. He was always out on his business trips, clad in that stupid suit of his. As far as I remembered I had always been in my school dormitory, the kind of school where only the rich kids go to. Only that they had a home to go back to. It’s not that I didn’t have any home. Mine was all the way up in Connecticut and I only went there once a year, for the holidays. There, I even had my own maid.

A jolt made me come back to reality. We had finally started trudging forward, inching slowly towards what looked like a toll booth, only much smaller. We moved steadily, and I could see my father’s frustration wane a little. I could make out all the cars from the three lanes, converge into a single one as we edged closer and closer. Upon closer inspection I could see what looked like the silhouettes of two policeman, as the sun beat down our windshield. My father narrowed his eyes, obviously sensing that this was no ordinary jam.

“Hello Sir! How do you do?” , a friendly policeman face greeted us.

“We’re good thank you.”

“Well can’t your son speak for himself? What’s you name sonny?”.

“Well I’m sorry that my mute thirteen year old kid can’t make pleasant talk with you, officer!”.

“Oh my…I’m sorry…I didn’t know…..”.

“Can I know what the problem is officer?”, father barked at him.

“Nothing sir. Just a routine check. Can I see your papers?”.

“Of course.” My father rummaged in the car’s compartment and grabbed a bunch of laminated documents hastily.

“Everything looks in order Sir. You can go now, and have a lovely journey.”

“Oh thank you very much!”, my father replied smugly and muttered something which sounded uncannily similar to “cupid foggers” under his breath.

As the rear wheels screeched into the pavement as the car started to accelerate forward I caught sight of a piece of paper that was dancing in the wind, held by the other policeman. Two eyes as dark as the night. Cheeks that were so sunken it, it looked like skin was stretched over the skull. A nose as sharp as a knife. That was what was there on that poster that the policeman held, with the word “wanted” etched across its bottom.

The car moved at a swift pace now, as the traffic had dwindled past the check-post. A mileage board zoomed past. I got excited as there was only 80 miles to go till the lake. This was my first fishing trip with my father. He had promised to take me with him since I was 8 and here I was finally set to spin my fishing hook which I was looking forward to. Suddenly a ringing sound erupted near the dashboard.

“Hello. Oh hey bob. Ya, ok. Look I’ll let you know as soon as I pick up the package alright? Ok? Ya. Bye-Bye.”

Office business. I should have known. How could a man who can’t make time for his son normally, be expected to stick to him alone for a couple more hours? Ludicrous! I sat there fuming, and tried hard to stem the emotions that I had kept bottled down for years together. I took a look at my father and thought of all the things that I wanted to say so badly, and saw him……squirming? He looked back at me, and still writhing in his seat, slowly raised his left pinky up in a slow, lucid motion. I burst off laughing. We sped along further, now my father looking for a restroom of any sort. Nothing. We journeyed for a couple more miles, when we finally sighted a small restroom at an exit. We took it and I waited in the car, as dad went about doing his business. He hastily scrambled back, and we took off. As we started to enter a winding road that led to the highway back again, a figure loomed large in front of our vehicle. He help his hand out, obviously asking for a lift. Father hit the brakes, and the car skid to a stop.

“Sir, please I need to get uptown. My truck broke down, and I’ve been walking a long while. I need a lift, and if you’ll be so kind as to drop me on your way I’ll be very grateful for it. Please.”, the man spat out in a hurry.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Hummertown, Sir. It’s some twenty miles down the road.”

Father nodded and the man scampered into the back. He looked very frail and seemed to be in some sort of a hurry. His clothes were shabby, and he had a grey overcoat clad around him, and it wore the yellow feel of the sand that he had seemingly traversed in. His strikingly black eyes met my hazel ones as I stole a look of him in the rearview mirror. I immediately looked out the window. After waiting a good five minutes I stole a look again though the mirror. His black eyes were looking out the window, as he pursed his lips, moving his hollow cheeks. Something about the man seemed strikingly similar. I pondered hard, gazing at the skyline through my window. Then it struck me! A pair of menacing black eyes flashed through my brain. Of course! The man in the wanted poster. My heartbeat quickened as I gripped my seat-arm tightly. I looked at him again but now met his steely black eyes. He was looking at me! I started sweating, my hands fidgeting now. What can I do? I can’t shout aloud and warn my father can I? There was no pen and paper near me, so I can’t write it out either. I sat around helplessly as I stole one glance after another at the man, my anxiety increasing with each look! I had to let father know about this but how? Suddenly my eyes caught the gleam of silver from the man’s waist, in the mirror. I quickly looked and to my horror, could make out the barrel of a gun jutting out from his waist. I gulped. Here we were, travelling with someone who for all I know is a cold blooded murderer, even worse he was clad with a gun. I looked at my father who was driving unmindful of what was unfolding. I kept frantically glancing at the mirror is a bid to keep track of what the man was up to, and every time I turned my eyes away from I could feel the hollow burn of his eyes looking at me. My eyes quickly darted onto the rearview mirror again, and I let out a silent gasp as his eyes locked on to mine for a fleeting, terrifying instance. Then it struck me! He knew that I knew! I saw his hands dangling dangerously close to where his gun was and knew he was gauging up this instant, and knew he was calculating the exact moment to strike. We were done for. Finished. I felt like a lamb cornered by a tiger. Helpless. I was sweating profusely now, and my heart skipped a beat as I caught sight of what was in front of us: another police check-post. Suddenly the man whipped out his gun and pressed it against the back of my father’s cranium. “Drive slowly and don’t do anything funny. One wrong move and I’ll blow your son’s brains to smithereens”, he said as he hid under the backseat of the car. Father was amazingly calm, but I was now trembling with fear. The car sped along to the check-post.

“Hello Sir. Your papers please.”

“Here you go officer.”

“My my. You’re son’s sweating horribly! What’s wrong with him?”.

“No no, that’s just how he’s. He’s actually mute so you know….”.

“Oh I’m sorry! Have a lovely day Sir!”.

The car sped along and I was now shaking with fear, whilst my father took to the wheel calmly, with the gun pressed to his head again.

“Take this exit.”

We neared an old rotten building, as father drove along the directions the man spat out.

“Get out. Only you. Enter the building.”

I trembled with morbid fear as I remained rooted to my seat. I waited with bated breath, trying hard not to imagine the worst. The seconds became minutes. Suddenly I heard the scamper of feet in the building. Unable to bear it any longer I dashed out, and ran……. into the outstretched arms of my father.

“He let me go son! He left through the other side! He wanted to kill me and leave you here, but he changed his mind! He let me go, as I pleaded on my knees to be spared. Just when I thought he was going to pull the trigger….he…….. Let us go son, let us go! Let’s get away from this place!”.

I didn’t need telling twice. We sped across the road, and into the evening sun, and I just sat in the seat rooted, my brain refusing to think at all.

“Wake up honey! I ordered some breakfast. Help yourself to some eggs and bacon, they’re on the table. Go eat.”

I grudgingly made my way onto the table, my mind determined to block out the incident that happened a couple of days ago. I wolfed down huge chunks of bacon as I opened up the hotel newspaper which father hadn’t bothered to read. The headline read “Mafia trial: Escaped key witness found murdered in abandoned Inn on highway 47, police suspect Mafia hand in murder.” And under the headline was the very face which had terrified me for the past few days: The wanted man! My mouth fell open, revealing half chewed bits of bacon as I read though the whole article. My head went into a daze as I considered the ramifications of this. I dashed across the room and opened the messages of my father’s cell, checking to make sure he was in the bathroom. My face glowed with anticipation as I pressed the button with trembling fingers. The message sent two days ago read:

“Parcel received and delivery completed. Over.”

Author's Note

I've written this story for a short story contest which happens to end on 6th. So please if you like it please go to https://notionpress.com/story/view/539491 , and vote for me!