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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/844735-A-weekend-Trip
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Death · #844735
This is a story of friendship and the need to belong, told with a twist.
After climbling the stairs, hot and tired from his journey, Jay opened the door to his one bedroom apartment and saw the light of the answering machine flashing. He stood there unmoving, recalling the events of the weekend in his mind.
The five friends had been inseparable that summer. Endless parties had occupied the balmy nights, sprawling out over the weeks. They were carefree and young. It seemed only fitting that they should end the summer with a bang. Jay couldn’t remember whose idea it was to drive to Las Vegas for the weekend, but the notion had been heartily agreed upon by all of them. Kim, Travis, David, Tiffany, and Jay had all piled into Kim’s father’s sports caravan on Friday afternoon, beginning the journey gleefully. Travis had swiped a few bottles of liquor for the trip, and sat in the back, mixing drinks for everyone. The hours passed by easily, the car filled with the carefree laughter of the girls, the drinks numbing Jay into a sense of oblivion. It wasn’t long until they reached the desert. The vast stretch of sand lay before them, speeding by, mile by mile of nothingness. Jay remembered relishing in the cool of the air conditioning and being thankful that he wasn’t out there, in that desolate heat. He looked around at the smiling faces of his friends and felt a warm sense of belonging. David socked Jay playfully, knocking him out of his daze.
“Snap out of it, buddy. We’re here to party!” David looked around at the others expectantly, then smiled and nodded contentedly as he received shouts of agreement from the girls. Jay shook off his reverie and suggested that they put on a movie. Kim’s father’s car was built with luxury in mind. The seats were soft leather, the finest of quality, and every seat had it’s own television monitor and headset. It reminded Jay of being in first class on an airplane. Kim had brushed off his remark, claiming that it was only right to travel in style. The group continued on their journey, the drinks flowing, the laughter rising, and everyone’s spirits high. The day slowly turned to dusk, the pink clouds radiating with vibrance. The five friends drove away from the rapidly setting sun, dark falling slowly, a blanket of stars descending over them. The darkness of the desert was like none Jay had ever seen. The bright lights of the city had always blurred the stars at home, and the sky had never been black like this. David, who had been at the wheel, suggested that they stop at the next gas station and switch drivers. Jay offered to drive next, and the group found a stop a few miles down the road. It seemed like an oasis in the middle of the vast, unforgiving desert. The girls ran into the store, drunk and silly, grabbing as many snacks as their hands could carry. Jay stood out by the car, pumping the gas and looking out into the darkness. The light of the interior glowed from within, and Jay could hear his friends cutting up and shouting. As they continued their journey, Jay could see the lights of Las Vegas, only a few hundred miles away now, reflecting off the few wispy clouds clinging in the night air. It wasn’t right away that Jay saw the man standing in the road. From far away, he could have been a cactus, or a road sign, Jay was sober now, but the alcohol had made him a bit sleepy. The man might have just been his imagination even, he thought to himself, but as they neared, Jay saw a hitchhiker walking up ahead of them, on the opposite side of the road. Jay sympathized with him silently, wondering what it must have felt like to be out there all alone. He looked back at his friends, who had all been lulled to sleep by now. As he turned back around, he saw a flash of lights coming toward him, and then heard a loud, unnatural sounding thud. He swerved, frightened, and then realized to his horror what he had just witnessed. He slowed the car, checking his rearview mirror, and there in the road lay the hitchhiker. The sound of tires screeching echoed in the distance as the oncoming car sped away. Jay stopped the car and lept out, running to the man’s aid. The oncoming car had thrown the man at least 100 yards, and the position of his body reflected the impact. Jay knelt down, attempting to retrieve a pulse from the man. There was something there. The man gasped and gurgled, trying to speak, his eyes darting around like a frightened animal. Blood covered the hitchhiker’s chest, spilling from what looked like a gash in his stomach. Jay gagged with disbelief and horror as he lifted the man’s shirt and found a gaping wound. Jay scrambled back into the caravan to wake the others.
The five friends hovered over the man, lying in a growing pool of blood.
“There’s nothing WE can do. Let’s get out of here.” Tiffany said as she looked around nervously, gripping herself tightly.
“Are you out of your mind? We have to get this man help!” Jay said indignantly.
The other four looked around, their eyes empty and confused.
“Jay...it’s not your fault...you didn’t do this...this guy’s a goner...we can’t do anything about it, okay, buddy? We’ll just call 9-1-1, and let them do what they can.”
“We can’t just leave him out here alone, it’s not right.” Jay looked at the man, and back at his friends in desperation.
“Jay”, Tiffany began, “this is seriously tripping me out. I cannot stand here with a dead body waiting on an ambulance. We’ll just call the police and tell them what we saw. End of story.”
“He’s not dead! He needs help!”
“Well, just look at him. He’s gonna be. I don’t believe this. This is not my problem. I can’t believe some idiot hit a guy and bailed, and now WE have to deal with it.” Tiffany stormed back to the car, retrieving her cell phone. Jay looked around in disbelief as the rest of his friends returned to the car. The eyes of the hitchhiker stared up at him, desperate and pleading. Jay swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. He stood in the road, staring down at the man, laying there helpless, for what seemed like hours. Tiffany finally emerged, pleading with Jay to come along, assuring him that the police had been called. Jay fought back tears, embarrassed, and finally succumbed to the wishes of his friends, climbing feebly into the back seat, where he remained for the rest of the drive. The morale of the group rose again as they entered the city and checked into the hotel, but Jay couldn’t shake the dark feeling that had encompassed him, isolating him into the gruesome recollection of the night’s events. Weary, he lay on the stiff hotel mattress while the others ventured off to explore the Casinos. Sickened by the falsity of the city, Jay longed again for the quiet simplicity of the desert. By morning, Jay was gone. He left a note for his friends on his bed, making the excuse that he was feeling sick, and caught the first bus he could find back to L. A. The image of those helpless eyes had burned themselves into the hollows of Jay’s imagination, making laughter seem inhuman.
Curiosity finally got the better of him, and Jay pressed “play” on the answering machine. A familiar voice chimed, “Well I hope you’re feeling better, pal! Great weekend, we missed you lots and lots. And Ohmigod, we got sooo drunk! I have so much to tell you! Call me!” Jay’s stomach turned at the sugary tone of Tiffany’s voice. Without a second thought, Jay pressed another button on the machine. Click.
“ Deleted.”
© Copyright 2004 Anne Marie Jackson (annemarie919 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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