Highway Part 11

Highway Chapter 11

 

            This was going to be a learning experience, for both of us. Veronica clearly wasn’t very well versed in the art of wilderness survival. We were walking alongside the road, the sun’s fiery rays increasing the temperature by several degrees in the already hot climate.

I had a full water bottle, and I knew it would last me until we got to a resting point outside of the town. Veronica had told me she had a water bottle as well, but I thought it strange, for she wasn’t drinking any of the liquid inside. Did she really not know that she needed to stay hydrated? Judging from her slow decrease in speed and look of exhaustion, I could easily answer that. Apparently not.

Sighing inwardly, I reminded myself how much this was going to benefit her. I am who I am today because of this journey. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened to me without it. I might not even still be alive. She needed this, and there were just things she needed to learn on the way. Nobody is perfect.

I cleared my throat just loud enough to catch her attention, and then took an exaggerated drink from my bottle. Her face flushed with color, and she immediately retrieved her bottle from her pack. Purposely ignoring me, she proceeded to gulp down about half of her water bottle. Another mistake, but she was a novice after all. The map showed there was a stream a little ways away, so if she ran out of water she could refill her bottle there.

She had caught up to me now, and we walked in silence. It was comfortable to me, for a majority of the time I spent on the road was by myself, accompanied only by my shadow and the nature around me. My conversations were limited to listening to the chatter of the animals, the babbling of the brook, the whispers of the wind. But for her, I knew that she was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. She kept fidgeting, and looked back and forth between me and the ground below us. Just as I had begun to think I should engage in some kind of conversation, opened her mouth.

“So,” she said, awkward and quiet.

“So,” I replied, not quite sure what she wanted me to say.

She paused, and then said, “I didn’t quite catch your name back there. I’m Veronica, as you know, and you are?”

Caught off guard, I looked at her surprised. Then, I shrugged. I suppose I should have seen this coming. I didn’t remember much before my awakening, and that included my name. I never found a use for a new one, so I just left it alone. I didn’t need a name when I was a part of something so big. Bugs didn’t have names, plants and animals were not called John, or Nancy, or Dave. We were all a part of nature. I didn’t blame anyone for wanting a name, I just didn’t feel as if it was important to me.

“What am I supposed to call you then? Hey, you? You there? Hey guy that I’m traveling with?”

I shrugged again, not sure what to respond with. It didn’t really matter what she called me, and I thought it a bit odd that my name was such a pressing issue to her. But better to be worried over a name than a past. I would prefer not to talk about my past if the need not arise.

“You can call me whatever you want I guess.” I said in non committal tones.

She told me that if I didn’t care, she would give me a name. Giving up on reasonable conversation, I resigned my fate. She pondered the name for a long time, making me awkwardly uncomfortable due to her intense scrutiny and continuous looks. She murmured something about having the wrong hair. How does a name describe someone’s hair? She suddenly proclaimed that my new name was Matthew, but that she was shortening it to Matt. It was an odd choice of name, I thought.

“Matt? Why Matt? I mean, it’s a fine name, but I never thought of myself as a Matt.”

She gave me the trademark glare that I was becoming accustomed to, and said tartly,

“Because I think of you as a matt and you ‘didn’t care’ as you said so I gave it to you and now it’s your name.”

She seemed offended at my lack of glee for my name, and crossed her arms, looking stern. I laughed inwardly, but kept it inside for I feared she would punch me if I laughed at her out loud. I didn’t know something so trivial would be important. But I thought I would give her a chance.

“Matt huh?”

I rolled the name off of my tongue several times, trying to get a feel for it. I guess Matt was as good a name as any other. I should be thankful she didn’t go down a spiteful path and start calling my Kelly. Or something worse.

“I kind of like it,” I announced to her.

She still looked cross, and turned her head away, mumbling a harsh whatever, but I could tell she wasn’t really truly mad at me. After a minute or two, she turned to me. She asked me if I really liked it, or if I was lying. I replied, honest yet polite.

“Yeah, I do. It’s as good a name as any other. I think I could be a Matt in real life. I have the Matt hair too.”

I added this last comment to make her smile. She hid it from me, but not before I could see the corners of her lips tilt up in the beginnings of a smirk.

We began to have a steady stream of conversation, most of the talking coming from her end. I didn’t mind this, for even though I was quiet, I enjoyed the company. It was lonely, and at least for now, I had a companion. We started talking about common things, and I repeated back her questions. Her favorite color, blue. Cats or dogs? Dogs. Right handed or left handed? Right. If you were stranded on a deserted island, what would you want with you? Large branches and fire. Why? So she could signal for help.

We walked amongst the nature, often slowing down so Veronica could watch the world go on around her. I would explain things to her, why that turtle was going there, what that structure was. This species of flower bloom at night, this lake is home to 25 kinds of fish. She was enamored and awed by everything here, as were all drifters including myself. It was good she already had such a connection to it, for that connection would make the awakening much easier.

After a pause to fill up her bottle with water from the stream, we resumed our journey. As we passed a large anthill, home to a colony of millions, Veronica purposely passed to the other side of me, avoiding it. I laughed, but quieted when she gave me that look. She was a very interesting girl. As we reached our camp site, a few miles out from the next town, Veronica collapsed onto the ground.

She murmured about never leaving the grass again. I snickered and then told her there was an anthill by her head. She jolted away, and then gave me a nasty look as she scolded me for scaring her, saying she would one day not believe me and then get eaten by ants. She said something about being okay with that as long as she didn’t have to move. I rolled my eyes, mumbling about her being so melodramatic.

Later, she walked up to the fire I had made, and rolled out her sleeping bag. It seemed she had the most basic supplies she needed, and I was impressed she had remembered to bring most of it. She then promptly began to complain about her feet.

“You said five miles” she commented accusingly, “we walked, like 25!”

Although it must have seemed long to her, it was not the longest I had ever walked.

“Please,” I scoffed at her, “Try 10.”

It had been longer than 5, but I wasn’t letting that melodrama go unaddressed.

“It was still more than 5” I heard her mumble.

I threw her a meal ready to eat from my pack and we ate hungrily, for it had been a while since our last meal. Understanding it had been a long day, I suggested she dip her feet in the cool river and few meters away. I used to do this before my feet had toughened enough, or just when I needed relief.

When she was gone, I reflected on just how different she was from anyone I had ever met before. The other person I had helped find the truth had been a young girl, around Veronica’s age, a year older. But she had been nothing like her, small with black hair and brown eyes. She was quiet and reserved, her voice barely every rising above a murmur. She had also been a girl who had been adopted but then had reached the age of majority and had moved out. The whole journey I received no conversations aside from about The Way. She wasn’t cruel or spiteful, she just was a very quiet girl.

Veronica was spunky down to her every molecule, and she was tough as well. She was loud and not afraid to say what was on her mind. Although harder to understand, I found Veronica to be special, a one of a kind among the drifters and ones that will be.

I heard her returning and asked, “Did you have fun?”

She snarkily replied that she had, with no thanks to me. She walked over to me and punched me in the arm without warning, catching me by surprise.

“What was that for?” I asked, feeling like I was being “abused.”

She told me it was for scaring her earlier, but it think it was also for making her walk 10 miles. We settled in, and I took up my usual evenings stargazing route. I traced the shapes with my eyes, silently telling the stories.

I heard Veronica softly call, “Hey.”

I twisted my torso so that I was leaning on my arm and facing her.

“What’s up?” I had asked her.

With a great deal of hesitation, she started apologizing to me. I sat up even further, to get a clearer view of her face. Mine must have been completely bewildered, for I did not know why she was apologizing until she spoke of the bar today. Finally understanding why she had been acting weird a majority of the day, I set out to calm her.

I explained to her that I appreciated her gesture, but that it was unnecessary. Everyone had a hard time at first, and rejected the idea. But she had come, and that was all that mattered. I’m pretty sure I cursed out the first person to tell me about the way. She looked at me, fiercely searching my face for signs of dishonesty. This was when I could tell just how vulnerable she really was.

Although she knew how to take care of herself, it mattered to her that I wasn’t lying. She was so unused to truth, it had to be checked over and over again for any signs of false elements.

“Do you want a hug?” I asked playfully, trying to make her laugh.

She gave me a no in the form of a grumble. I threatened to hug her again before she replied that she was going to punch me again if I hit her. I laughed, for this seemed exactly like something she would say. The laughter became contagious, and she too was soon laughing. We settled in again, and I began to feel sleepy. Just as my eyes became heavy, I heard Veronica’s voice.

Hushed and muted, she called my name, asking if I was awake. I could barely hear her when I was awake, and was only capable of doing so through years of fine tuning my listening skills to hear creatures far away. I replied with an affirmative noise, to let her know I was listening. She was silent, so I turned in the bag to face her if everything was okay. I was concerned by her lack of response.

She took me by surprise again, asking me if it was worth it. After a moment of confusion, I realized she meant the voyage. I told her, beaming, that it was worth every second, and that was the truth. It was the best thing to have ever happened to my life.

She turned away, giving the allusion of sleep. Softly, but loud enough she could hear, I bid her goodnight. She paused, and then with that quiet voice answered my goodnight with her own.