A Worn Backpack Part 5

A few hours later Catherine awoke, in the dim light of dawn, to an unwelcome surprise. Max was no longer driving the car. He sat next to her in the backseat, as the wheels rapidly turned under their seats under the direction of their other companion. Max was flipping through the pages of her sketchbook, with a critical glare focused on each of her sketches.

“You’re not so bad. Ever thought of going into this professionally?”

Catherine snatched her sketchbook from his loose grip, leaving him staring down at nothing.

“If I told Jimmy not to look, what gives you the right?”

“If I hadn’t stopped you would be dead. Damn me if not worse. You owe me your life, that should give me enough of a fucking right,” Max replied calmly.

“Who says I wanted you to stop?” Catherine replied, her lungs full of emotion. “Maybe I want to be dead,” she whispered.

“Go back to sleep. We have a few hours till breakfast. Jimmy knows where the hell he’s going,” Max watched her as she clasped her few belongings tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m getting a few crappy hours of shuteye too. I won’t look anymore.”

He closed his eyes, and his arms crossed on his chest, he leaned his head back and prepared to doze off. Catherine watched for a few moments, until she was sure he had fallen into slumber.

“Will he really leave my things alone?”

“Don’t worry. When he says he won’t, he won’t. He’s right though, you must’ve been up for hours. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we stop somewhere for more food.”

Catherine took her new friend’s advice and leaned back into her prior position, allowing herself to return to rest.

Blinding light shined in wisps through the window as Catherine awoke. No one was in the car. It was parked by some small town diner off of the highway. Nearby Catherine could see a crowd of people gathering around some spectacle. She pushed her face against the window to see better: some man was verbalizing incoherent facts about a mysterious object the crowd had gathered around. She watched intently, trying to focus out the words he was saying, when the door behind her opened.

“Max and I already ate at the diner. I got something for you too,” He handed her something wrapped in foil and napkins.

Catherine watched the object in his hands for a few moments, realizing in advance the difficulties she would undergo without eating, sitting next to an answer meant for her.

“Thanks,” she paused and looked up at him. “How much do I owe you?”

“What? You have money? I figured by the looks of it you were broke,” Catherine looked shamefully down at herself, holding back all the secrets of her life, her person, she wished to hide. “Don’t worry about it. You can pay us back in New York. We’ll figure something out then.”

“How much did you spend on me so far? I’ll keep tab. I promise I’ll pay everything back.”

As Catherine spoke, she didn’t notice Jimmy unwrapping the foil and napkin covered debt.

“I’ve got it covered, just relax and eat.”

“Are you sure? I’m really good at ma-,” Jimmy stuck a bagel in her mouth, cutting off all verbal means of maintaining her independence.

The scene of a moment ago’s peace, pleasured by every road-tripper, traveler, and tourist alike as a break from the highway monotony, transformed into an unseemly fit of unjustified anger during Catherine’s loss of independence to a breakfast bagel.

“Oh no, not this again!” Jimmy patted Catherine on the head, and with a patronizing “enjoy” and smile, left by means of the door he entered through.

Catherine tore the bagel out of her mouth, spinning around. The crowd had dispelled, forming a loose open circle around two troublesome creatures in the center. Max had picked a fight with the announcer. Harsh words and signals soon morphed into a flight of fists and a dance of tackles, a form of elegance known only to the unrefined, uncontrollable coarseness of childish rage between grown men. A third figure broke through the circle, abruptly stopping the graceless dance with peacemaking gestures, almost remorseful. One of the dancers, and the peacemaker walked off, away from the crowd.

In an empty auditorium, two figures sat on the wooden floor as a third approached. The shadow of a fourth dwelt at the door.

“How’s the fundraising going?” the third asked.

One of the two sighed, “It’d be easier if Catherine was here. Say, you haven’t head from her, have you Molly?”

“No. I was hoping one of you had,” Sophie and Lucy stared glumly at their work. “Lucy, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna steal Johnny for a bit. We’re going to go back to my house to play video games for a while. Can you tell your parents please?”

Lucy nodded, and at that Molly and Johnny left the school.

“How can he play video games so calmly when she’s gone like this?” Sophie looked at her companion.

“He’s not really that cold. It’s just his way of facing it. You know, he’s probably sadder about this than many of us think him to be. It’s not like any of us could bring her back now.”

Lucy fell silent, and the two continued to work in solitude until dark, without a word passing through the stillness of the air. Molly and Johnny returned to Molly’s house, setting up Molly’s cornucopia of video games as they had done so many times in the past.

“Are you sure this is what you want to be doing now?”

“Why not?”

“Well, Catherine is gone. Don’t you want to--”

“What? What could I possibly do about that? Do you think I can find her? Make her come back? I don’t have the power everyone thinks I have. There’s nothing that can be done about that. She’ll come back, so for now, let’s just play.”

In the motion of the quiet car, Catherine turned to her companions, “So, what happened back there?”

“None of your fuckin’ business. The crappin’ hell is fine now so stay the fuck out of the way until we get to fuckin’ New York…” Max continued into a indistinguishable blur of speech, with an occasional curse word breaking out.

Catherine, now alone in the backseat, turned from the front, bringing no further entertainment to her sullen mind. She looked out the window like a child eager about everything they saw in their first road trip, eventually crossing her arms and resting her chin as she watched the repeating monotony of desert landscape passing in a blur.

Embracing the calmness of the moving road, and the flow of yellows and browns of her surroundings, Catherine was slowly drifting into a slumber of boredom, hindered by a blast of static with a tinge of a screaming voice. The sound adjusted, until a semi-clear connection to a popular, local radio station was heard.

“Still nothing,” Jimmy turned the radio off.

Catherine slid to the middle of the backseat, and leaned forward until she was nearly between Max and Jimmy. She looked between the two of them for some minutes before asking, “Where did you come from, to be headed all the way out to New York?”

Max and Jimmy both turned their heads to her, finally noticing her position between them. First looking at Max, who once again was neglecting to pay attention to the road while driving, Catherine redirected her question to Jimmy.

“You know, I’m also in this car. It’s fuckin’ rude to only ask Jimmy. It’s even worse to be butting your head where it doesn’t belong,” Max leaned closer to Catherine as he remarked.

“Why should I ask you when you can’t even say a single word to me without nearly killing us with your rotten driving!”

Jimmy, finally noticing why Catherine had redirected her question, grabbed the wheel, and pulled them to the side of the road, waiting for Max to halt the car.

“Stop the car. You know it’s illegal to drive like this.”

“I don’t want to switch; I can drive fine, give me back the wheel.”

“I don’t want to switch places. Just pull over.”

Max pulled the car over. Jimmy got out and moved into the backseat with Catherine, pushing her to the side she had started on, and forcing her into a buckled seat. Max started the car again, and they returned to the same silence that had possessed them earlier.

Jimmy slouched into his side, “I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Of all the crazy things we’ve done in a car, he’s never been distracted from his driving before. I guess he just has a lot on his mind right now. It’s probably best if you just stay in the back seat and don’t say anything to him for a while.”

The silence returned, and Catherine leaned upon the window, watching the desert pass her by once again.

Still in his slouched position, Jimmy stirred to remove his ballcap and run his fingers through his hair, “We were in California.” He replaced the cap and leaned back into the seat, now turning to Catherine. “We’re from the East, but our dad is- was in California. We went for him. And for-”

“Do you have to tell her our whole hell-filled crappy lives?” Max retorted, keeping his attention on the road this time.

“What difference does it make? She’s with us for the time being. She might as well know who we are a bit. Imagine how scared she must be. She’s in a car with two complete strangers.”

“I’m not scared,” Catherine interrupted. “You’re brothers?”

“No. Yes. Well, not exactly, but kinda I guess,” Jimmy continued the conversation with her as Max sat silently in the front seat, his anger building.

“What’s kinda?”

“None of your fuckin’ business,” Max interrupted again.

“I guess I can’t safely tell you much more about us. So, your turn. Are you ready to tell me something about yourself yet?”

Catherine looked at him strangely, then looking back down on herself, she clutched her bag tightly and began, “I was born in Arizona. I’ve lived there my whole life. Seventeen years now. I have a mother and father, and an older sister. She’s in Arizona state right now.”

“What about that picture. Who was that?”

“Nobody. He doesn’t exist. He’s a figment of my imagination,” she held her bag tighter, fearing any loosening of grip would send it flying open, with all her inner, secret thoughts and memories. “When’s lunch?”

Jimmy stared blankly at her, surprised at any admittance of desire for food escaping from this girl’s mouth. The following words finally stumbled out of his mouth, “We don’t usually stop for lunch. If you’re really hungry, I’m sure we have something lying around here in the car. Hold on.” Jimmy knelt down and began to rummage through empty wrappers and indiscriminate other trash lying around the floor of the car.

“No, I’m not hungry. I was just curious.”

Jimmy stopped looking, and returned his glance to her. Catherine hugged her backpack firmly, and biting her lip, prepared to speak again.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Jimmy stared at her now, eyes widened by this rash and unusually forward question. Catherine sat still, gripping a few pencils, an empty water bottle, a sketchbook, and an unusual excitement that came with the embarrassment and timidity of getting to know new friends burning at her from the edges of her mind, all crammed into her worn backpack.