I:X

           “Long beset unto his journey was the conqueror, prompted for success.” Erick leaned on the outside of the car and spoke through the window to me, “A cascading cry echoing through the wind ignited former cinders.”

            “Shut up and get some sleep.” I told him with a laugh. He began to walk away from the car toward his porch. When he was about half way I started the car and left. I wasn’t particularly fond of driving alone for a couple of reasons. Reason number one: I can never decide what to listen to. I’m so indecisive as to what mood I am in that I cannot think of a single song that I want to hear so usually I leave the radio off. Well, except for in the morning when there is always some talk show on. But if there is someone else in the car I always have something that they want to listen to, or they’ll bring something to listen to; it may no be something I want to hear but at least then I can groan and complain about not wanting to listen to it. Reason number two: because there is no noise in my car save for the sound of the road, I’m stuck listening to my head. Now, it’s not that I don’t like thinking, its just I don’t like some of the thoughts that I have. Some of them are tragic, some are from the past, some are farfetched theories but no matter what they are they wind up lasting for far too long. As a result I end up with the mother of all my thoughts: over-thinking. In my opinion nothing could be worse. Well… perhaps under-thinking.

            So here I am, in my car, alone at maybe two in the morning with nothing but the sound of wind zipping through the pecan orchards on either side of the road and trying to make its way through the vents of my air conditioner.  The road I was on was long, flat, and straight. Without realizing it, my foot became a little heavier. The engine shifted and began a small roar as it picked up passed sixty. Although I was not tired, the road that I was traveling became somehow less significant than the mental process I was undergoing. The needle on the speedometer crept passed seventy and, completely uncaringly, I flew through a four-way intersection. I began to contemplate Rashinda. I’ve been around her for a long time now, but I feel like every time we hang out, it’s the first. Does that seem like something I should tell her? The needle hovered passed eighty and the roar of the engine was much louder. No. Boys tell her nice, and sweet, and meaningful things all the time. As a matter of fact, boys ask her out all the time. Bummer. But she turns them down. Why is that? She is very particular. Maybe I—I looked at the speed dial and focused on the road for a moment. The car was almost at ninety and the trees and road signs were zipping passed me. I let off the gas. I turned on the high beams and as I did, a small dark figure made its way out of the shadows to the very edge of the headlights. I pulled to the other side of the road to avoid hitting him because of my speed, and for some reason, beyond me, I stepped on the brakes.

            I slowed passed him and came to a stop. As he walked up from the rear of the car I rolled down the passenger side window. He leaned on the door the way Erick had; arms folded on the base of the window. He was a young man, maybe mid to late twenties. His dark face was clean-shaven which accentuated his eyebrows. His long thick dread locks hung into the window. He looked at me and smiled a wide grin. “I like your dreads budda.” His accent was very heavy. “You be pickin’ up hitchas dis time uh de night?”

            “I guess not. I didn’t see your thumb out.”

            He laughed a bit then said, “I like you cuz.” His voice was high but raspy; two octaves. “I’m new to da ara. Would you be willin’ to help out a fellow Rasta, cuz?” The lack of inflection in his sentences was mesmerizing; I don’t know why.

            “What do you need? A ride?”

            “Dat, yes, and anoder ting.” I cut him off before he could make the next request.

            “A place to bed down for the night.” He seemed surprised that I knew. He laughed. “Get in.”