Highway 4

995 words
Written for "The Writer's Cramp" 
Prompt: Write a short story or poem about a dark and lonely stretch of highway.

Highway 4 was well known as a long stretch of road that spanned the entire distance from one tiny town to another in the farmlands of Osakawa. You might not know the area, but you've surely traversed one just like it. It was the type of road that had but two lanes and a long span of white dashes in the middle that were pale and cracked. To each side green rolling hills slipped by hypnotically so that the driver had better be listening to music, or drinking coffee lest they forget they are driving entirely and roll right off the road.

It was late when Nik's little Prius glided past the third or fifth pasture from his grandmother's house, he wasn't sure which. The sun had set long before and most sane drivers were just stopping for the night rather than starting out. Of coffee and music Nik had both in large quantities. The music set several notches higher than usual and the coffee in a tall travel mug. Behind his seat a thermos held a couple more cups full if he needed it.

Nik sighed. It should have been a lonely ride but the distracting presence in the seat next to him made it anything but.

"What sort of music is this?" the opaque form wavered in and out of full vision. That familiar, gruff tone brought Nik both happiness and sorrow.

"Rap," he replied shortly. He supposed he'd have to change the station.

"Sounds more like talking than singing." Nik glanced at his grandfather, surprised by the mild tone. It was hard to think what to reply. "You should watch the road," his grandfather was right of course. Nik returned his eyes to the endless stretch of highway.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Nik asked the question tentatively, as it was not the first time he'd asked.

"I'll let you know." It was the same answer he'd been getting all night. Grandmother had asked him to give his grandfather a ride. Not many families would ask people to drive ghosts around. Nik still couldn't fathom why his grandfather couldn't just float or something. Better yet, couldn't he just retire to heaven or wherever "normal" spirits went?

"It would help if you'd be more specific."

"Specific is for the living. Could you turn that radio down for a bit?" Nik nodded, though he was reluctant to follow through. Highway 4 was a bad place to be without music, and he wasn't sure Grandfather could keep him from falling under its hypnotic powers.

Nik reached forward and lowered the volume. "I don't see what's wrong with being specific when you're dead, besides I'm still living."

"I know. Here, pull over here," his grandfather's tone was urgent. Nik pulled off to the side of the road. "You'll come with me."

"I've already come with you," Nik parked and looked over at the form in his passenger seat. His grandfather's hair seemed to gleem in the moonlight.

"Turn off the headlights, and the car, Nik." Grandfather's soft tones made Nik's hair stand on end at the back of his neck. Nik followed the instructions and then took a nervous sip of coffee.

"Okay, now it's dark. What are we doing?"

"Walking," Grandfather got out of the car and Nik joined him. The two of them began walking down the side of the road. Nik remembered walking with his grandfather in just this way many years before when Grandfather had been alive and healthy.

"I miss this," Nik's voice caught as he said it. He didn't really have time for walks these days. A part of him wanted to end this, get back to the car and on the road. He had a thousand things to do.

"You aren't really here yet," his grandfather replied and they continued walking. The night air was cool and moist, the air smelled of farmland. Nik was supposed to work the next day. His wife would be upset if he didn't get home soon.

"How long are we walking Grandfather?"

"Until you're really here."

"What do you mean?" Nik paused and stared through his grandfather. Stars twinkled down from the sky far off in the distance.

"I mean what I say." They resumed their walk. Nik felt the firm ground under his feet and heard a motor far off in the distance. Many people thought that farmland just smelled like manure, but that was only on hot summer days. To the practiced nose it smelled like hay, manure and live plants. Especially at night. It was a pleasant smell to Nik who'd been born and raised around those scents.

"I really miss this," Nik said when he spoke again.

"You have to make it happen for yourself now," Grandfather replied. "You have to give this to your children and their children."

"But you're dead, I can't give them..." Nik protested. It seemed his grandfather was dimmer now. It was odd, a trick of the eye perhaps.

"No, Nik, not me, this," his grandfather gestured at the dark, lonely stretch of highway in front of them. "Give them the peace and the possibilities that your grandmother and I have given you. Show them that life is more than one emergency after another and remember it. Remember it yourself."

Nik nodded, walking forward silently. He suddenly felt very alone. Stopping, he looked back, but there was no shadowy form to push him onward anymore. Far behind he could see his Prius waiting on the side of the road inviting him back. He looked forward at dark rolling farmlands. The two lane highway stretched into the darkness. He was alone. Minutes before he'd have rushed back to his car and hurried home. Now he walked forward into the lonely night.

There was something peaceful about the loneliness. He couldn't have this everyday, this emptiness that was so full. What filled it? He couldn't grasp it, but he would do his best to pass it on.