Driving

Janet: So..what's your name?
Rebecca: Rebecca.
Janet: That's a nice name.
Rebecca: Yeah.. I guess so. Thanks. What's yours?
Janet: Janet.
Rebecca: That's a nice name too.
Janet: Thanks.
Rebecca: I always did like Janet Jackson.
Janet: Yeah..I like her too. Michael Jackson's good too.
Rebecca: Yeah. He's good. Except for that whole child molesting thing,
of course.
Janet: Yeah..right..of course.
Rebecca: Yeah..
Janet: So..what do you do?
Rebecca: Not much of anything, but I think it'd be cool to be a fashion
designer.
Janet: Oh, really&;#8230;a fashion designer?
Rebecca: For like..Calvin Klein or something.
Janet: Oh..yeah..right.
(Rebecca turns on the radio. Country Rock music. Janet snaps off the
radio.)
Rebecca: I love swinging on a hammock on a summer evening. The air
sidles up my ankles all the way up to the hair on my head. The
lightning bugs twitter about, blinking their fluorescent ends about.
The air smells like freshly moved earth, as when particles of grass,
dirt, pollen, and leaves have been launched free-style into the air by
a new gust of smiling wind. The moon sticks out like a sore thumb, a
huge scoop of vanilla floating on a pool of melted blue sherbet.
(Janet begins to cough a loud dry hacking cough.)
Janet: It must have sucked hitchhiking in this rain.
Rebecca: Yeah. But, when you don't have anything else but your feet to
take you places, you have to.
Janet: Yeah. I used to walk around a lot when I was a kid.
Rebecca: What was that?
Janet: Accident.
Rebecca: Boy.
Janet: Yeah.
Janet: I love walking outside on a warm summer day. The air blows
across my face, knocking my hair out of my eyes and sends it sailing
backwards. The smell of car exhaust, flowers, earth, and cooking meat
hit my nostrils in a chaotic congo lines. The backpack flung across my
shoulder feels heavy yet not uncomfortably. It weighs down my shoulder,
slowing the quickness of my walk just a tad. I can hear cars honking,
braking, the wind blowing through the trees and knocking their branches
together, birds chirping and then the sudden flutter of wings taking
off once I approach.
Rebecca: Another one?
Janet: Yeah.
Rebecca: Really raining, huh?
Janet: Yeah.
Rebecca: Do you think it'll stop before long?
Janet: I heard earlier that it was supposed to rain all night.
Rebecca: That sucks.
Janet: Yeah&;#8230;So..where are you going to go after I drop you
off?
Rebecca: Some place where I can get noticed.
Janet: Noticed?
Rebecca: Like..for my fashion designing..skills.
Janet: Oh, yeah, right. I hope you make it.
Rebecca: What do you do?
Janet: I'm putting myself through school so I can become a
doctor.
Rebecca: Wow. That's pretty big.
Janet: I guess so. I've always wanted to be one.
(Janet turns on the radio. "Somewhere over the rainbow" is on.)
Rebecca: The branches and leaves shake gently as if they're giggling
above me as the hammock attached to their large scaly trunks swings
back and forth. The netting held tightly against my palms feels rough
and comforting at the same time. It's the only thing between me and the
ground. The hammock pushes against my head differently after each swing
as the netting stretches and clenches in order to compensate for my
weight. The air tastes like summertime. Dirt and dust mingle with the
sharp twinge of grass and sweat. Cicadas and birds chirp about in an
unmelodious chorus of noise. Mosquitoes fly around, nuisances until
they're quickly stamped out.
(Janet coughs.)
Rebecca: Bad cough?
Janet: Yeah.
Rebecca: Get it from this cold weather?
Janet: I don't know. Maybe.
Rebecca: You gonna get it checked out?
Janet: I might once I hit town. I'm hoping that I'll get my paycheck
this week.
Rebecca: Oh, where do you work?
Janet: I'm a waitress at the Peabody Grill. Ever heard of it?
Rebecca: No.
Janet: Great ribs.
(Janet turns the wheel violently.)
Rebecca: Wow. Another one?
Janet: The branches and leaves as they carelessly knock together make a
whooshing sound that catches my attention simply because it sounds so
beautiful. My mouth tastes bitter from the rank broccoli and cheese
soup I had for lunch. I am enthralled by everything I pass. I am in
love with the way the sunlight glints off metal objects, like the spot
of light shooting off that red corolla over there. The sun rains down
on my skin and warms it wonderfully. The bugs don't bother me much. At
least there doesn't seem to be mosquitoes in the daytime.
Rebecca: Hey!
(Sounds of brakes screeching. Vehicle swerves. Lights out. Sound of
loud crash.)