The Road Trip

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None of them knew how long they had been on the road. Their eyes glanced level and were fastened upon the road that swept toward them. The road was of the hue of slate, save for the centerline, which was intermittent white. All of them knew the colors of the road. The horizon narrowed and widened and dipped and rose, and at all times, its edge was jagged with hills that seemed thrust up in points like spires.

A person ought to have a tub larger than the van which here traveled along the road. The lanes of the road were most wrongfully and barbarously abrupt and narrow. Each turn was a problem in the navigation of the van.

The lieutenant slouched in the front passenger seat and looked with both eyes at the thin glass which separated him from the traffic. Often he said, “Man! That was a close call.” As he remarked it, he invariably gazed eastward over the horizon.

The soldiers, packed into the van, were buried in that profound dejection and indifference which comes, temporarily at least, to even the most enduring when deprived of the freedom of independent movement.

The sergeant was in the driver’s seat steering the van between the lanes of traffic. The mind of the master of a vessel is rooted deep in the inner workings of her, though he commands for a day or a decade. This sergeant had on him the stern impression of a scene in the sporadic light of the highway halkalı escort of eleven turned faces.

A seat in this van was not unlike a seat on a rollercoaster, and by the same token, a rollercoaster is not much smaller. The van plummeted, jerked, and plunged like an E-ticket ride. As each wall of traffic came, and the van began to maneuver, it seemed as if there were rails affixed to the wheels, scornfully bumping and grinding to the front of the wall, then racing headlong into the slate black darkness of the road ahead.

A singular disadvantage of the road lies in the fact that after successfully surmounting one wall of traffic you discover there is another not too distant that will create the same discordant anxiety that the previous one did. There is a terrible grace in the movement of the traffic as it comes in silence, except for the growl of the tires against the road.

In the sporadic light, the faces of the men appeared gray, their eyes glinting in strange ways as they gazed forward. Viewed from above, it would have appeared weirdly picturesque. But the men in the van had no time to see it their minds were occupied by other things.

In disjointed sentences, the lieutenant and the sergeant argued over the difference between Holiday Inn and Day’s Inn.

The color lieutenant said, “There’s a Holiday Inn at the next ikitelli escort exit we can stop at.”

“It won’t have any vacancies.” said the sergeant.

“We aren’t there yet,” said one of the soldiers.

As the van bounced along the road, the wind tore through the hair of the men. From the top of each hill, the men surveyed the horizon to the front for signs of a place to stop. For a moment, a broad tumultuous expanse, shining and bright, appeared on the horizon. The men fell silent, except for the hemming and hawing of exhausted anticipation. To express any optimism at this point would be childish, but they all had possessed the sense of the situation. A man thinks doggedly at such times. On the other hand, the ethics of the situation was decidedly against any open suggestion of hopelessness.

Cresting the next hill, the men saw the brightly lit service station abutting the exit. Watchful eyes followed as the garish light intensified, then passed, somehow becoming gruesome in its close proximity. The sergeant, shifting in his seat, wanted to look back, but continued to press on down the road.

“Think we will find a place to stop sergeant?” asked the lieutenant.

“If we keep up this pace we should,” said the sergeant.

The van shifted slightly by the passing traffic, hurled into the darkness by the unseen wind. istanbul escort The ominous silence provoked mental aberrations of a diabolical punishment being inflicted for amusement. It was not an amusement. Who would so exclude the roadside of such a fundamental requirement as a motel room purely for jest?

It took an anxious eye to find a sign so tiny, but there on the horizon, just to the right of the road was a small yellow sign shape of a setting sun. No, it was far to the right, away from the road. Never had a thing appeared so marvelous to the men in the van, spirits lifted, and eyes wide in anticipation, as they turned onto the exit.

No one knew who had first suggested that they pick up the young female hitch hiker. But as they drove the idea to share her became something of a topic of conversation that is until she accepted the proposal on one condition. She insisted that a room be provided for the event. Now with the room available the tension was as thick as the darkness that surrounded them. Waiting had never been so agonizing, as one then another made their way to the room. Later, it would seem too swift as each recalled with fondness the tender pleasures experienced that night.

It would be difficult to describe the subtle brotherhood of men that was here established on the road. No one said it was so. No one mentioned it. But it had occurred in the van, and each man felt it warm him. They were a sergeant, a lieutenant, and nine soldiers, and they were friends. Friends in a more curiously iron bound degree than may be common. It was more than a mere recognition of the common experience. There was surely in it a quality that was personal and heartfelt.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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