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In the dark, the faint glow of a half lit cigarette precedes breath mixed with smoke. It fades into the night, leaving only ash and lingering regret twinkling from a pendant held tight. In the dark of the night, Gigi can see the man. His white hair shimmering with faint streaks of green. He’s hunched over, leaning against the fence that divides the snowy rest stop and the pitch black chasm below.
“You sure you’re not cold?” Gigi, not much for cold weather, has a blanket over his shoulders despite wearing several layers underneath.
“I’m fine.” A raspy voice responds and a small orange ember in the darkness bobs up and down. “Thanks.”
“Hey, you did a good job driving, especially for someone who doesn’t know how to drive a stick shift.”
“Thanks. It was all you.” The cigarette light intensifies and Gigi can make out a grateful smile. “Wouldn’t have made it out here if it weren’t for your help.”
Gigi nods. He thought it would be fun to have Cecil drive for once but he was about to change his mind when Cecil said that he didn’t know how to drive stick shift. Cecil, stubborn as always, insisted on driving. The miniscule amount of doubt that sat at the corner of Gigi’s mind would’ve consumed him had he not held on to Cecil's hand on the gear shift, guiding him with every changing gear.
“Yep. We’re alive… at least.”
Gigi exhales the cold air from his lungs and chuckles, undermining the moments of near death: visions of sharp inclines, the occasional bump that may have torn off a piece of the RV, the sound of their nonsensical shouting and bickering. At one point, Gigi had resorted to calling Cecil the “weird uncle.” Cecil retaliated by calling him “Guncle.” Whether Cecil knew what he meant by that, Gigi is unsure.
The wind blows, making the silence between them all too discernible. Gigi hears soft clinking and the glint of the metal pendant catches his eye.
“Still thinking about her?”
Cecil’s ex-wife, the reason why he wanted to go on this trip in the first place, Gigi remembers. He said he needed to clear his mind. He wanted to forget; go as far as possible from places that remind him of her, avoid situations that relive the past like a worn out projector playing faded films of bygone happy days. After all this, he’s still clutching on to her pendant. It might as well be a self-inflicted curse, cycled continuously with every drag of the cigarette and every solemn stare at the damned thing. Every muttering is like a litany of prostration, self-flagellation and self-pity.
“Maybe.”
It’s miserable seeing him like this and it only heightens Gigi’s curiosity.
“Alright, fine. Instead of moping to yourself, how about you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Cecil huffs, maybe in disbelief or maybe in confusion. Either way, it feels like the barrier is slowly crumbling.
“Come on, what difference does it make at this point? Either you stay miserable or give it a chance and let it out. It might make you feel a bit better!”
“You promise you’ll hear me out? Hear everything?” The tone of Cecil’s voice gives Gigi a bit of hope. Maybe the walls will finally come down…
“Think of it as part of the trip. Let it out and leave it here in the mountains, yeah?”
There’s a long pause; long enough for Gigi to think that this effort is a lost cause and that Cecil will probably never open up to him. He sighs, touches the cold fence with his forehead and is ready to return to the RV when Cecil coughs.
A raspy voice echoes in the darkness, like the crackle of a campfire. Solemn but warm. Bright and intense. Yet, it’s quiet, like a confession.
“I remember the day she left, I thought about how just a few months ago, we were laughing together over dinner. Just a few weeks after that, we were arm in arm as we walked down the street. And a few days after that it was all over. Gone.”
“It feels like all of that happened a lifetime ago, like it wasn't even something that happened in this world. There was a ‘then’, and when she left, all that’s left is ‘now’.”
His voice has that quality of a dying bonfire now; wood still crackling because of the heat but what was once roaring fire is now but embers clinging to gray coals. The glimmer in his eyes is all but gone as they stare out into the snowy abyss.
“Sometimes, I don't think I can ever let it all go because that means denying that all of that–the memories, the love–as if all of it never happened.” Cecil grips tightly at the pendant. Dry, old hands, cracked with scars, shake in the darkness.
Gigi gives it a moment, just to make sure Cecil is finished and just to make sure he absorbed everything. After what must have been a minute or two, he inhales and replies.
“But even if it’s all done and gone, it still happened, didn’t it? And nothing will change that. No one can take those moments from you. You just keep moving and make new memories to go with the old ones.” Gigi gives his best smile. It’s a silly grin–not much but it's what he can offer his companion right now.
“And besides you got me! Well, for this trip anyway.”
Cecil is silent as he flicks the spent cigarette over the fence. He takes out another one and quickly lights it. There’s a momentary flash of light and the glimpse of his face reveals a smile. It’s a subtle one, but a smile nonetheless.
“You’re really annoying. You know that?” Cecil says after a dry chuckle.
“Thanks! It’s what I do best!”
Cecil sighs in exasperation, blowing a bit of smoke and frost and then pockets the pendant. He leans harder against the fence and takes a drag, which intensifies the embers on his cigarette. For a moment, Gigi can see his face; the lines are a lot more clear but he no longer has that longing expression in his eyes.
“You got more of those?” Gigi points at the cigarette.
Cecil shrugs and pulls out a pack with a single cigarette left. He looks hesitant to give it but the reason he gives isn’t what Gigi expects.
“You should probably quit while you’re ahead. The smoking, I mean.” Cecil said.
“What makes you say that now?”
“I dunno, you still got plenty of years left ahead of you.”
“Well, what about you then, weird uncle?”
“I’m on my way out in, I dunno, ten? Fifteen years? I don’t think it matters anymore. If I quit now, maybe I’ll get another extra year or two.”
Gigi wordlessly takes the last cigarette and Cecil unceremoniously crumples the pack.
“Need a light?”
“Nah, I got it.”
With the cigarette on his mouth, Gigi leans over and lights it against Cecil’s cigarette. He lingers for a bit, taking in the heat and letting the light flicker for longer. Cecil doesn’t flinch, even as their gazes meet. The aquamarine eyes glimmer in the darkness and for once since the beginning of the trip, Gigi sees a bit of light in them and the sort of kindness born out of a gentle soul. Maybe it’s from the embers of tobacco or maybe it’s something else.
“Sorry if that was weird. And thanks.”
“It wasn’t. And you're welcome.”
Cecil has the faintest smile again and his eyes are still locked on Gigi’s. He takes a quick drag and flicks the cigarette over the fence and into the ravine below. The orange glow fades into the darkness until it’s a pinpoint and then it’s no more.
“How about this,” Cecil clears his throat and exhales. “I quit now and that means you have to quit too.”
“What? Why’d you change your mind?”
“I think that extra year or two just might be worth it.” Cecil shrugs. There’s a sense of timidity in his voice, especially with how slowly he spoke.
Gigi takes a long drag, letting too much smoke and ash fill his lungs and chokes on it. He laughs it off, beating his chest with a fist and flicks the half used cigarette into the ravine. The trail of smoke dissipates into nothingness.
“Deal!” He smiles as wide as he can and Cecil laughs with him.
The wind picks up and snow begins to drift down. It makes the world feel more muted and the quiet of the night pervades over the canyon.
“Let’s go back inside. I’m tired. And cold.” Even in exhaustion, there’s a quiet hope brimming in Cecil’s voice.
“Yeah. Same.” They turn away from the fence and slowly make their way in the snow, following the lamp of the RV as a guide.
“Hey, why’d you stick with me anyway? All I wanted from you was to teach me how to drive stick. You didn’t have to come with me to the middle of nowhere.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I got a thing for miserable, pitiful men.” Gigi says it jokingly but maybe there’s a bit of truth hidden in there.
It’s not lost to Cecil, who silently smirks. Gigi responds with his own self-satisfied smirk.
The snow crunches underneath their boots and neither of them look back, resolving to leave what’s no longer needed to the chasm below.