Notes from the Road 7

Madison finished her drink with a contented sigh and, drawing her knees up under her chin, a delicate burp. We were sitting on the roadside with our backs against the wooden shack we'd bought the sodas from. The day was hot as ever and we'd taken the opportunity to get a little shelter and drink whilst Bran took care of refilling and restocking the truck which had conked out on us just as we were pulling into the town.  He was buried under the hood checking switches and levels trying to trace the source of the thick black smoke that had accompanied our unexpected stop. Not being of a mechanical mind he could have been casting eldritch spells over the parts for all I knew. Refilling the virgins blood tank and checking the chickens feet where angled perfectly about the distributor, trying to exorcise the engine of its unclean spirits like some kind of voodoo mechanic .

 

The place we were stopped was so small it didn't even have a name, just a gas station cum garage cum general store which was surrounded on all sides by the ubiquitous orange brown sand.  There were a collection of houses scattered around as if they had been dropped from a giant child's play set and randomly distributed according to some pattern indiscernible by mere mortal man.

 

We were heading North again but it would be many days and several hundred miles before we hit the mountains and lush forests of the midlands which Madison had expressed a deep desire to see and as it didn't clash with our 'wanky' aims we were quite happy to accede, in my case if only to keep travelling and talking with her.

 

Not that I was growing tired of Bran, it would take a lot of effort for his calm taciturn demeanour to annoy me. But it was a nice change to have someone to verbally spar with who could keep up with wild improvisations and bizarre trains of thought that for some would be totally off track. Also she was proving more inspiration than I could ever imagine. I'd filled up a whole hardback notepad since meeting her in that diner purely with thoughts and observations about her.

 

I put down my finished bottle looked up and saw her smiling at me and I started to smile back before I realised she was actually grinning at something just over my left shoulder. As I started to turn to see what had caused her grin I felt this horrible wet licking sensation about my ear and leapt up with a shout.

 

There at my feet not a bit offended by my loud oblivious revulsion was a brown and white dog of indeterminate breed and questionable parentage looking up at me, tongue lolling, like I was the canine Messiah. Madison found all this hilarious of course and even Bran had turned from his oily surgery to see what the fuss was about.

 

Looking up from the dog I was confronted by a small boy no more than 8 or 9 staring at us in the unselfconscious way that children have. He had strong black hair and was dressed in sneakers and jeans with a patina of the red dirt hard-scuffed into them.

 

"I think he likes you mister." Called out the boy. "He doesn't normally take to strangers."
"He's obviously got good taste," replied Madison "What's he called?"
"He doesn't have one, we mostly just call him dog." He said pronouncing it like a cowboy would with an A and W where the O should be. "He's for sale if you want to buy him, he's a great house dog."

 

Madison and I shared a look.

 

"None of us actually have a house," I replied "Although I'm sure he's a really good dog"

 

On hearing the words 'Good Dog', Dog, who had been sniffling around my ankles, looked up and started to wag his tail. He looked like he couldn't have hurt a fly even if he wanted to.

 

"You don't have a house?" He looked incredulous and it suddenly hit me how it must be to live here with so few people. Growing up never seeing beyond the boundaries of this little valley not experiencing anything outside of this small hamlet. It was too claustrophobic for words. This little guy had always lived here I imagined and wouldn't miss the wider world as he'd never really experienced it.

 

There was a bang from behind us and as I turned the truck belched its way into black smoked life. Dog jumped back and ran around the building in fright.

 

"Great guard dog," I thought as Bran leant out from behind the wheel.

 

"Trucks ready. Lets go." he shouted over the rasping resurrected engine.

 

"Thanks kid. See you around!" Madison said as she and I piled into the front cab next to Bran and he pulled away through the dust. The last we saw of the kid he was still waving to us through a big plume of dust.

 

We didn't discover our furry stowaway until we stopped for the night.