A Midnight Companion

Jesse Etsler

I wake up in the passenger seat of Tyler’s car; for a second, while I’m struggling to get my bearings, I forget why I’m wherever the hell we are. I blink my eyes a few times to allow the world being thrust behind me to come into focus. I see the red pine tree air freshener dangling from his rear-view mirror; I see the bikini-hula girl and I notice she’s turgid; the road is very smooth, not a bump or pothole in sight, flawless. For a second I almost think it strange, but as I do Tyler’s voice overpowers my groggy mind, “It’s about time you woke up, you’ve been asleep the whole trip.” After wetting my mouth I finally muster out a faint and raspy, “Where are we?” “How the hell should I know; but we’re far from home, and that’s all that matters.” He laughs. “I’ve always been far from home Tyler.” I say as I stare out the window.

I’m a kid again and I never felt at home with my “family”. I had always felt like the odd one out. I remember one of my mom’s friends was pregnant and was inquiring about her pregnancies. My mother described each of them in meticulous detail, but fell short when it came to me. This didn’t surprise me; my parents had always picked favorites; or, rather, their least favorite. I had no clue why they treated me differently; I had never done anything to them. It wasn’t blatant either, just the way they acted towards and around me compared to my siblings. Then one day I was going through some old boxes stashed in the attic so I could pick out some pictures of me to put in our senior slide show for school. A bright light caught my eye. It was the reflection of the moonlight on the latch of a box sitting in the corner. I looked inside and found a folder with some forms in it, from an adoption agency. Then it all just clicked. I never told my family what I’d found and after graduation I called up Tyler, told him about my plan and left.

I’m back in the car, “You know, it’s funny how much of my life recently has been decided by that box. I can’t decide whether I’m angry or glad I found it.” I say. In my mind I think of how much disdain I had for it. All of my life it had been there, sitting in the attic; silent with that little latch shining on me, waiting for me to find it. “We’re stopping soon, I need a break.” Tyler mutters. “How long have you been driving?” I ask. He either doesn’t hear me or just doesn’t answer; I tried to think of when we left but I couldn’t quite remember.

We pull into an all night rest stop to get gas and stretch, “Can you get the gas?” Tyler asks. “Can you? I’m too tired” I whine. “You know, this would be around the right time for you to take some responsibility for once. I always have to do these things for you.” Tyler snaps as he extracts the nozzle from its chamber. “But I need to walk around anyway, I’ll get it…again.” The night air leaves a strange taste in my mouth; I remember the piece of gum I have in my pocket. I reach in and draw out what is now a limp, wrinkled stick of chicle; I toss it aside and just as it hits the ground, somewhere off in the distance I hear an alarm. I stand there for a few moments; everything begins to fade away from me as I fixate on this sound until Tyler’s voice once again startles me, “Someone’s not having a good night.” Tyler’s always found humor in those sort of things. “I’m good, are you ready to head back out?” he asks. Before I can contemplate what he’s asked me, “Yeah, let’s go” slips out of my mouth like the nozzle Tyler grabbed. We get back in the car and pull away from the rest stop. The last thing I see before I drift off to sleep again is Tyler shifting into gear and accelerating down the open road; I think, “I’ve never been good with a stick-shift” Eyes close, darkness.

I am rattled awake, yet again by a strange noise. At first I think it to be some sort of ringing but I quickly realize it is the tires of Tyler’s car screeching to a halt. “We’re here.” He says, relieved. I step out of the car; the night is cold and wet. I feel lost and confused, it takes me a minute to adjust to my surroundings; but once I have I feel more at home, more terrified than I ever have before. For some reason though the only thing on my mind is how tired I am. I turn to Tyler and say, “Thank you for doing this for me.” He gives me a nod as if he understands something I do not; I almost say something to him but instead I turn and head inside. With the moon shining down on me, highlighting every barely discernible imperfection, every fear, every doubt...i just begin to grasp the magnitude of what is happening but as I do Tyler's voice once again rings in my head, "Only you can decide where your home is; that's no one else's choice to make." I strain my eyes open. I smell the faint scent of eggs cooking and coffee brewing, as if it had wafted off some mountain top and was sluggishly creeping towards me. The multiplying red lines criss-crossing like a road-map.....I need to find a bed.