The Road Trip (a short story)
by Ken Hiebert
Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny, though slightly cool. Tim had managed to be up by 7:00 that morning to prepare for his road trip. He’d already had his shower and made a pot of coffee and by 8:00 he was pretty much ready to leave. He had planned to head into the city for the day, and it was a good two hour drive so he wanted to get a bit of a head start. He filled his travel mug, put on his jacket, and headed out the door. He was actually looking forward to a nice leisurely drive, knowing he had the whole day as he got into the car. He left the yard and was about five minutes out when he suddenly put his hand to his chest to feel for his wallet.
“Shit!”, he said as he realized he had left his wallet in his other jacket. This time of year it seemed you never knew which jacket to wear and his wallet more often than not resided in the jacket still hanging in the closet. Thankful that he caught his mistake early, he turned around on the gravel road and headed back home.
He parked the car and shut it off, in case he ended up being inside longer than he planned. The car was almost warm, and it wasn’t really that cold outside anyway.
Once inside, he noticed his answering machine was blinking so he listened to the first half of the message before deleting it - another telemarketer. He located his wallet, topped up his coffee and went for a quick pee. He felt good about remembering to feed the cat on the way out, even though he hadn’t seen him yet that morning. By the time he got back to the car, a full twenty minutes had elapsed and he was starting to feel like he should be in a hurry. He started the car and headed out again, this time with the music on about half volume.
About ten minutes into his drive he began to feel a bit of warm air from the vents. He had a sip of his coffee and thought he caught the faintest aroma of food cooking. He realized he hadn’t had breakfast. He took another sip and turned his attention back to the road.
Twenty minutes later he reached out and turned up the fan to get some air moving in the cab since it was a little too cold outside to open the window. There was that smell again, a fair bit stronger now. Now it didn’t smell so much like lunch cooking, but more like something was burning.
“Shit!” he said. He pulled the car over, killed the engine, and popped the hood. As soon as he did, he could see a bit of smoke curling out from the driver’s side of the engine compartment. When he came around to the front of the car, he was a little confused at first. The source of the smoke was what at first appeared to be a large, oily looking rag lying beside the engine. Within about five seconds, Tim realized that it was not in fact a rag at all, but was the remains of the cat that he had so diligently fed not more than 45 minutes ago. The poor creature must have gotten out of the house unnoticed as Tim was going in to retrieve his wallet and then, feeling the chill morning air had taken refuge in the slightly warm engine compartment.
“Shit!”, said Tim again, putting his hand over his mouth. The cat was barely recognizable as it must have gotten caught in a belt as it was trying to escape and now a good portion of it was baked on to the side of the engine block.
A little unsure of what to do, Tim opened the back door to find some tool that might help him out of his predicament. He came up with an ice scraper and a screw driver. He didn’t really know what he was going to do with the screw driver but it was the green Robertson that he’d been missing for over a week so he figured he’d better at least take it out of the back seat.
The majority of the cat was extricated without much fanfare, but it was the left overs that were really causing Tim some grief. It didn’t take long to realize that simply scraping the smoking meat off one surface just allowed it to fall onto another surface that was much harder to get at. Tim went back into the rear seat to find more tools. This time he came out with a crumpled up McDonald’s bag. There was a Big Mac container inside and after tearing the top off, he was able to wedge that down into the engine compartment underneath the portions of stir-fried cat and then just scrape the remains into the container. Reaching down to remove the container from the bottom of the engine, Tim brushed his arm against the still hot manifold.
“Shit!”, he yelled, ripping his arm away from the heat source. Tim wasn’t normally all that good at performing more than one task at a time, although in this instance he did manage to remove his arm from danger at lightning speed while at the same moment slamming his head up against the hood of the car. He blinked back tears, cursed a few more times, and waited for his eyes to focus again. That was going to leave a mark.
Knowing that he couldn’t leave the container there, he reached down and carefully picked it up. It looked disgusting and the contents were all stuck to the inside. Wait, was that an ear?! Not wanting to leave his litter by the side of the road, Tim gingerly dropped the container back into the McDonald’s bag, rolled the top, and set it on the passenger seat.
Throwing the ice scraper and the screw driver into the back seat, Tim started the car and pulled back onto the road. By now it was almost 10:30 and he was really beginning to wish he’d had breakfast. There was a town about 10 minutes from where he was so he decided to stop there for something to eat.
Just a little ways into town there was a McDonald’s on the right so Tim pulled into the parking lot and got out. He was getting a little tired of being in the car right now. He also wanted to find a garbage for the cat. He got out with the bag of cat and started towards the restaurant. Almost immediately he whirled around and went back to get his travel mug. He thought he should at least get a refill while he was here. He put the bag on the roof of the car and leaned in to get his mug. Then he noticed a few other items of trash that had been accumulating for longer than he could remember. He grabbed the offending items and walked into the restaurant. He found the nearest garbage can and dumped his load. Only then did he realized he’d forgotten to take the cat bag off the roof.
“Shit!”, said Tim under his breath. Well, there was no way he was going back to get that stupid bag now - at least not until he’d had something to eat. There were several people waiting in line so he got in too and quickly scanned the menu. As he was waiting in line, he looked out the window and could see his car with the bag sitting on the roof. It looked kind of suspicious, but he didn’t really care. As he was staring out the window and waiting for his turn to order, he saw an older gentleman shuffle up to the car, furtively look in each direction, and then quickly snatch the bag off the roof. Tim almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing - this was definitely getting to be the weirdest day on record for him. He ran his hand through his hair and was instantly reminded of the car hood incident. Yup, there was indeed a good sized egg there.
Shaking his head slowly, Tim finally stepped up to the counter to make his order. Just before he started to speak he noticed the old man out of the corner of his eye. He was coming up right behind him holding the bag. Tim began to wonder if the guy had seen him leave it on the roof and was now coming to return it to him. He decided he’d try ignoring the guy. The man got into the next line over. Tim didn’t look at him and tried to concentrate on making his order. Eventually, he managed to tell the cashier what he wanted and now was waiting for his order to be filled. He took a sidelong glance at the man, who was now standing to his left and a little behind him. Right at that moment, Tim saw the man open the bag and peer down inside.
The old man gasped and his hands went up to his face, dropping the bag. He then collapsed and fell over backwards. Thankfully the customer behind him was able to catch him and ease him onto the floor.
There weren’t that many people in the restaurant but one of them seemed to have had some medical training and called 911. Sensing the man was likely in good hands, and not wanting to call unnecessary attention to himself, Tim retreated to a table beside the door determined to eat his breakfast before heading back out on the road. Also, he couldn’t help feeling at least partially responsible for the unfolding drama.
It didn’t take long for the ambulance to arrive and when it did, the medics came in with a stretcher and began talking with the customers who were there. By now, the man was conscious, although feeble and the medics helped him onto the stretcher and then wheeled him out the door.
From his seat by the window, Tim had a clear view of the ambulance and could see the gentleman on the stretcher inside. He was feeling rather badly for the old gent and as he was watching the scene, he saw a woman run out the door and hand the medic a rumpled McDonald’s bag. The medic waved a thank you and reached into the back of the vehicle. Tim was quite sure he caught a glimpse of the old man’s eyes opening wide as the medic gently placed the bag on the man’s chest and shut the door.