Vibes

She thought about flagging down a car if one came along. No, Vibes would be her best bet, not much of a bet but the best one she had. She heard the sound of gravel crunching under tires and the Chrysler came into view rolling heavily over the wooden bridge and then tipping as it turned onto the blacktop. She ran over, pulled open the rear door, and dove in.

“Go, go!” she yelled.

Vibes stepped on the gas. After they accelerated up to speed, Marilyn sat up. They sped down the blacktop and she looked out at the lines of blueberry bushes flashing past, avoiding Vibes’s glances in the rear view mirror. The road came to a “T” at a dyke and the Chrysler’s tires chirped around the corner.

“Where are you going?” he asked, grinning.

Her eyes met his in the mirror, for a moment. “To my mother’s, on the north shore.”

He nodded. They reached the freeway and car’s rear end sank as they accelerated up the onramp. Vibes guided the car into the passing lane and settled back into his seat with a finger crooked around the wheel. She stabbed the window button with her finger, lowering the rear window halfway. She stared out, thinking her own thoughts, as the air blew around strands of her hair.

He looked at her in the mirror. “Why don’t you sit up front?”

“I’m okay.”

He looked ahead. “The speakers are shot. The radio’s only AM anyway.”

“I’m not in the mood for music right now.”

The car hurled down the freeway, coming up behind a sedan with kids jumping around in the back. She looked at the surprised faces of the family as they passed and she frowned, staring at the back of his head. After they passed another car, she asked, “Aren’t you, like, carrying a load of weed in the trunk?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Don’t take me for an idiot. That’s a mistake, ‘Vibes’.”

He looked in the mirror.

“And keep your eyes on the road!”

“That would be easier if you sat up here. I’m getting a sore neck.” He smiled.

She said nothing for a minute. “I think you should slow down. If the bulls pull you over we’ll both get popped.”

He did a double take, and stared at her in the mirror. She glared back at him. He returned his eyes to the road and slowed down, close to the speed limit.

After another minute or so, he said, “You want to sit up here, now?”

“I don’t like dealers,” she said.

He lifted a hand in the air. “What’re you talking about?”

“You’re a dealer.”

“I’m not.”

“How much grass are you carrying?”

“A couple of hundred kilos I guess.”

“A couple of hundred and you’re not a dealer? Yeah, right.”

That shut him up. The big car ran smooth over the highway, the seat was big and comfortable, and she liked breathing in the cool air coming through the window. She liked sitting quietly, without the need to pretend or be somebody for someone.

“This is just a one time thing,” he said.

“I’ve heard that before.”

He bided his time for bit, and then said, “I got plans to get out of town. Come on, sit up here, and let me tell you about Whistler.”

“I’ve heard it all before, Vibes.”

“Here, read this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

She opened the paper. She read…

Whistler

The shack has coffee, burning cedar

Spring draws me outside

light, melting snow, water crazy glistening,

puppy pawing a piece of ice

Hear spring breaking on the lake - the ice cracking

sounds as potent as a falling star

gentle as a dream

Windblown clouds, minnows swimming under ice

I love wet ice, touch it's cool water, and drink

I lie, I dream by the lake, I hear snow

fall from the tree branches

I hear the boot crunch

You touch my neck I smell your soap

She frowned. “Where did you get this?”

“I wrote it.”

She looked at the poem. “No way, Vibes.”

“Yeah, I wrote it. See…” He jabbed a finger in the air. “That’s what this is all about.”