Personal Narrative-It's On The Road

As Evan sped away from Buffalo Jack’s, hitting the highway and accelerating to nearly a hundred miles per hour, Liam could be heard peevishly whimpering to himself in his mother’s arms while Angela stared straight ahead, locked in a somnambulistic state. Four miles down the road the Geneva Turnpike turned into Route 20 and the Pontiac cruised west out of Canandaigua. As they passed a Peterbilt, its driver laid on his air horn upset over Evan’s reckless speed, the sound jolting Angela out of her hypnosis. “Evan, who was that guy back there?” she asked, but Evan remained stolid and white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “Where did you come from?” Evan still remained taciturn, intently focused on the road, the highway’s overhang

When the GTO pulled up to the first intersecting street, he saw the bright sign of Flying J’s blazing in the night sky. From the corner, the truck stop looked only sparsely busy—a few semis filling up, a string of them parked in the back, their occupants hidden away in their cab watching television or spending a little quality time with a stranger of the night at the tune of seventy-five dollars a half hour. “Thank you for what you did back there,” Angela said as she gathered up Liam and was about to exit the vehicle. “Goodbye, Evan.” “Wait,” Evan called out. Angela looked back. “You won’t survive the night if I let you walk away from me here.” “I’ve survived, Evan. I’ve survived many nights, almost five years worth when you walked away from me, remember?” “That was different. I was different back then. It was business. I’m sorry.” “Goodbye, Evan.” Angela began walking towards the building with Liam as Evan watched discouraged. He tried then tried to force himself to remain indifferent about letting them go. Fuck it… it’s not my problem, he thought. They were never part of the