THE RIDE

OKLAHOMA ... Present Day

The 2008 SUV towing the large trailer pulled off of Route 172 onto the gravel clearing.
The passenger door opened with some difficulty and the tall Stranger,
unfolding his muscular wiry 6'4 plus frame from the cramped quarters, got out.
Sun burnt, mid 30's, thick shag hair and a slightly grizzled beard
that did little to conceal his striking Roman looks.
The rear trunk opened and with a wave to the driver, he unloaded the duffle bag
along with the brown satchel which he slung over his broad shoulders.
The leather Stetson Cowboy Hat he placed firmly on his head
shielding his already burnt features further, from the defiant sun.

The Driver of the SUV, in his late 70's stood near his opened door, no words were necessary.
Eyes conveyed warm wishes knowing they would probably never see each other again.
It had been a chance meeting and despite the 4 decades difference and that neither had known
of the other's existence before 6 a.m this morning, a Bond had been formed.
As the Old Man would later put it ...Mid-West / Southern style, "It started when
I picked him up in Odessa, Texas over 500 miles back, on the Odometer read."
And now they were parting ways.

He remembered when he had first stopped and asked him where he was headed,
The Stranger was grateful but curiously non-committal and said
wherever the Old Man was headed, was just Fine.
Later, when the he even offered to take him wherever he wanted,
the Stranger just smiled and said that wasn't necessary. He was headed way up North

The Old Man was returning from a Grain run to Odessa where he got maximum price
for his prized grain harvest, A trip he made twice a year.
He had seen the Stranger walking along I-20 E and well... Why Not ?
He could use the Company. Anything to help take his mind off the numbing return trip home.
That was the plan anyway early this morning.

Naturally reticent, The Old Man was wary about any conversation opening his life,
But the trip was long and ... What the Hell !
500 miles of 'Road ahead ' will force you from any comfort zone of Silence.
Your sanity would depend on talking about something, Hell ...Anything !
Besides, the damm radio was broken, and any Social Restraints, were already buckling.
An ease had already begun to settle in for both of them.
It was around the 30 mile mark, when the Dam broke.

It was brief comments at first, mostly from the Old Man as his diffidence melted away
The Stranger seemed interested in what he had to say. He even laughed.
For the Old Man, it felt like a breeze through his Spirit.
Looking back later, the Old Man would shake his head and almost laugh.
It was so unlike him, But Everything was there. The Stars aligned.
A Captive Audience. an Endless Trip ahead, and only themselves and No Radio.
Hey besides, If you couldn't rattle on like a goddam fool in your OWN truck,
to someone you were NEVER going to see again ...

But he knew what it Really was.
When was the last time anyone had ever shown interest in Anything he had to say ?
Why would they? He was old and cranky. Yeah O.K, a bit of Bastard. But things had changed
Wife had passed away 2 years ago. His only son, from Parkinson's, the year before
True, There had been little social contact even before all that happened.
A Loner, most of his life, he had wanted it that way.
But after these last few years, and the anguished feelings of regret
knowing how he had allowed his feelings to completely
withdraw even from those who mattered most and they were now gone forever.
Now He really was alone. The Isolation, at times, was Withering.
The endless Quiet on the Farm, especially at night, that forced him to retreat
to his room and a small TV, whose only purpose was to disrupt the Silence
The Journey was over. He would spend the years ahead, Alone.
A Life Redux; Work, the Farm and this Trip... Twice a year.

So when it came... This Outpouring, he wasn't surprised.
Pent Up Emotion... Isn't that what they called it ?
The Poet was right, "No Man is an Island". not for long anyway.

The Stranger asked him about his work. Life on the Farm.
His words came in torrents, unrestrained images of Everyday.
It was nice to have someone to talk too. He was glad he had stopped.
He wondered if the Stranger was just being kind, Listening to what he had to say.
His life, The Problems in Farming, Harvesting, Competition among other Farmers.
Stuff, most people wouldn't be interested in.
But the Stranger smiled, perhaps responding to a need he sensed was there.
The Stranger didn't say much about himself, and somehow... It Worked.
The Hours and Mileage whittled away. The Trip was not as brutal.
And now, it was over.
It had been a good Day. Maybe It Was an over reaction. Didn't matter.
There are some things in Life, Encounters, no matter how brief, that will stay with you, Forever.

The Stranger stood besides the car, Gear in hand.
The Old Man nodded, his eyes radiating ...Take Care
Then suddenly, Words coming from within, leaving him later to wonder their true source
"...Say your Prayers" He blurted, surprising even him.
Had NEVER said that to anyone. Something you might tell a child at Nighttime.
He wasn't even particularly Religious but meant it now as a form of protection
A Safeguard for whatever lay ahead. ...Say your prayers
For a moment, he thought he saw the Strangers eyes glisten, as if in Understanding
Feeling a little awkward, The Old Man shielded once more to inside the car.
and hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself. He would miss the young Man.
...It had been a good Day.

With a moment of tempermental resistance, the car with 200 K plus miles,
struggled, and then turned over as if announcing a solemn parting tribute to both of them.
The car slowly lurched forward, and with a final 'Don't look Back' wave from,
The Old Man turned left at the cross roads and ... He was Gone

The Stranger stood by the road, Aware of the isolated surroundings.
A lone figure in a Country painting of a deserted road somewhere in Oklahoma.
a cross current of thoughts flooded his mind,
A kind old man, a Journey of more than a thousand miles still to travel and
The uncertainty of just what would lie ahead.

COPYRIGHT © 2017 2019 STEPHEN ZIMBONE

THE RIDE part 2