Chapter Text
The road hums. The engine hums. The crickets hum. I hum.
It's late at night, or rather, early morning. I check the time on the dashboard. 2:37 AM. We’re somewhere in New Mexico, on route 66, in this janky old truck. We passed Albuquerque half an hour ago.
It's quiet here, this long stretch of road from somewhere to nowhere. From here to there. The christmas-tree shaped air freshener that dangles from the rearview mirror sways a little in the breeze coming from the open windows. It doesn't smell like pine anymore.
The sand gets everywhere out here. In the vents, in the grille. Under my nails, in my teeth when I grind ‘em. It’s warm as hell too, even though it's nighttime. Humid, sticky, sickly, makes the dust cling to everything. Ya can never escape the July heat, I guess. I blot away the sweat on my upper lip.Now, why is it so humid in the middle of the goddamn desert?
Alice is in the passenger seat, sleeping. Or pretending to. The radio plays softly. I don't turn it up too loud. Don't wanna wake her up. But it’s loud enough to hear, loud enough to fill the silence between my fingers tapping on the steering wheel and Alice’s breathing.
Alice speaks up. Knew she wasn't really asleep.
“What now?” she asks.
“I don't know,” I respond. It's the only answer I can give.
“Hey, look at that billboard!” she says, and points-
NUT MILK
IS NOT
REAL MILK.
No company name, no contact information. Just… nut milk. White letters in all caps against a solid black background.
“Maybe it's a dairy farmer’s campaign?” I say, and chuckle.
“I’d like to think it's some guy angry at his daughter for buying too many cashew milk vegan lattes blowing off some steam,” She says, laughing. I laugh too.
We fall back into silence. Not comfortable silence necessarily, but not awkward either. It's what you get when you’ve been apart for years and been together for longer, I guess.
“The stars aren't out tonight, ” she says.
“Guess even the stars don't know how to stick around,” I say. Low blow, I know. But I'm still hurt. I see her stiffen slightly from the corner of my eye.
She leans over and turns up the radio, and the sounds of David Bowie tumble out from the speakers, words tripping and falling over each other in an effort to be heard.
There's a starman waiting in the sky,
He'd like to come and meet us,
But he thinks he'd blow our minds,
There's a starman waiting in the sky,
He's told us not to blow it,
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile.
“Huh, what a coincidence,” she says. I hum in agreement. Then again, silence. Well, not really. Have ya ever heard true silence? Has anyone? There's always something. The engine, the radio, the sounds of the night outside fill the empty space.
The road hums. The engine hums. The crickets hum. I hum. Alice is here. Praxis is here (Well, not here. But it's out there). Sylvia - or the Oracle now, I guess, is out there too. We’re safe. It's okay.
Starman waiting in the sky,
He'd like to come and meet us,
But he thinks he'd blow our minds,
There's a starman waiting in the sky,
He's told us not to blow it,
'Cause he knows it's all worthwhile,
He told me:
Let the children lose it,
Let the children use it,
Let all the children boogie.