A Car Ride

Reluctantly, he handed over the key. Jane was whining about it since they launched from the city centre, the only place she was nervous to drive in. Jane didn’t like his driving. Too safe, she said. It was her who screw her driving test twice, though.

Rick didn’t like the situation, but for the sake of mental health (Jane would enjoy getting on his nerves for the rest of their journey otherwise) agreed and stopped by the roadside to change seats. Jane squeaked happily squeezing the wheel, and her eyes shone with the excitement that seemed insane. Rick crossed. Thanks god only sixty miles left from here ‘til the lakeside where they would spend a few calm safe hours, free of mad driving (and the driver), just resting on the silk-like sand of a wild solitary beach and listening to rare joyful children’s screams, birds’ thrills and leaves’ rustle. And the water must be warm, and the wind’s peaceful, and there were just fifty-five miles to it.

That was what Rick thought leaning to the window with his eyes closed. Jane didn’t like his driving – he was afraid of hers. But everything seemed to be quite nice by far. She didn’t even skid when cornering. Like, almost. Maybe she was practicing with Mary? Mary was fearless and selfless, she wouldn’t resist her best friend’s pleads and perfectly mastered ability to look deeply desperate as soon as you dared to say her “no”.

Or maybe that was Jack? He was better not, but if it was him, Rick had to thank him, he did a nice job. They managed to go ten miles and never heard a warning signal from other drivers.

Forty-five miles left when Rick relaxed a bit. Jane still looked crazy but consistent and confident. She spin the wheel methodically, didn’t forget to switch the turn signal on (and off!), she looked into the review mirror to check not herself but the road. Rick was impressed not to say astonished.

Maybe that was not Jane? Maybe some aliens had come and exchanged her for one of their spies? Well, Rick didn’t mind it if that spy could get both of them to the beach not receiving a fine.

Thirty-five miles left. Almost halfway to their destination. Stop, Rick. Don’t associate destination with THAT movie. It won’t do you any good.

Rick breathed out, as they passed the sign of thirty miles. There were no timber carriers on the road, no lorries yet, no bridges waited further, the highway itself was broad and safe, almost no serious fatal accidents happened here, Rick himself had never had any problem driving this way, and he had been using it for ten years already, right since he had just got his license and his brother showed him the root.

Thirty. The half. Well, technically, it was already not the half because they had made around five miles though the city before Jane made Rick stop and change places, but it was half since that, and Rick notices gladly that they were still sound and alive.

“You just hate me,” Jane said keeping her eyes on the road. “If you only could you would never let me drive.”

“Let’s just not sing that stupid country shit!”

“Taylor Swift isn’t shit!”

“But that song is shitty as f…”

“Oh gosh! Rick just turn on the radio and shut up.”

Rick did. And Taylor Swift’s song blasted from his old Volvo’s recorder. Jane laughed victoriously, and Rick facepalmed.

Twenty-five. In twenty miles the road always got a bit busier because of people leaving nearest villages and heading, mostly, to the same lake. It was wild and deserted only in words. In fact, every citizen knew about it, and having no sea within thousands miles, no wonder everyone reached to the same place hoping that THIS TIME that was not as crowded as usually. Sometimes, Rick had his lucky days.

The first real fellow driver met them ten miles away from the beach. Before, they saw some cars flashing on the left and disappearing the same second. The last car overtook them twenty minutes or so ago and then turned somewhere and left the road free and spacious. And it was easy not to worry about Jane’s driving on the empty highway. Now it was getting narrower, exits and entries were spreading like tree branches, and new coming cars appeared on the way surrounding Rick’s small Volvo and thundering their engines form right and left.

Jane still seemed to be calm (as she could be). She didn’t slow down but didn’t risk either.

Rick wiped his sweating hands upon his jeans.

A lorry came up on the road out of the blue, Rick could’ve sworn there was none a second ago, but then the gigantic heavy Swift rushed on the opposite lane. In this part of the road there were no boundaries. Final destination grinned from the back of Rick’s mind, and he clashed the armrest.

The lorry swept past. Jane smirked and gave Rick a shift glance. He pretended to be relaxed.

They reached their exit in fifteen minutes. That narrow two-lane road stretched to a small village and further to the west and to a few resorts grown and flourished near the tranquil lake hidden in a sparse sunlit forest. As usual, many cars stumbled in the line waiting for their turn. Jane was never good at turning especially in narrow places in traffics when everyone waited for and beeped on her for the slightest protraction. That was why she never drove in the city reluctantly handing the lead over to Rick. The same recollection flashed in her eyes, she bit her lip, glanced into mirrors, clung the steering wheel, and, having hesitated for another second, turned.

It came smoothly. Jane herself surprised. “That was cool!” Rick said.

“Of course!” she rolled her eyes as if she had always taken turns successfully. Rick laughed and pated Jane’s thigh.

The car trembled on bumps of a wild tire-riffled forest road. Other cars had already taken the closest exit to the beach. Jane snorted. “Let’s try there…” she said going up the hill on the side. “The view here is nice and it’s easy to park.” Rick didn’t object.

Jane parked smoothly on the slope that got icy in winter, and children used it as a slide flying right to the frozen lake that stretched downhill. A well-trodden path through weak young bushes led straight to the small piece of sandy ground in a distance from everyone else, so there was no need to meet other tourists, breathe fuels of their cars and hear screams of their kids. It was a mystery why no one took that place first.

Rick and Jane left the car. He took their towels and sunbeds, handed Jane a mini-fridge with beer and sandwiches, and closed the trunk with Jane’s jolly chant. “I told ya! You just don’t trust me. But Mary does!”

So, that was Mary.

“She took me with her and let me drive to the country side. She explained what I was doing wrong and how to do it better. That’s what you never do! She’s so patient…”

Of course, she was patient. Hadn’t she been so, she would’ve never survived in a primary school.

“Don’t deny, Rick, I saw you’re scared. You gotta learn to trust me!”

Rick looked at her skeptically. Jane raised her eye brows, nodded and leaned over the trunk. Volvo clang, Jane swayed and caught Rick’s hand not to fall. Young thin twigs cracked.

The car rolled down the hill.