Straight to Steemit Novel: Sojourn - Chapter 2: The Evening Road

Preamble

This is the second chapter in my straight to Steemit Novel Project.

Past Entries
Chapter 1 - The Road.

A new chapter will be added in six days time. The cover image may change from week to week. All images used in this project will be captured by myself as original photographs.

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2 - The Evening Road

The door handle was cold in my hand, and it seemed as though the water on the outside of the vehicle was much more intimidating that what it was. I couldn't swim, so most bodies of water tended to terrify me. Violet had already managed to push her door open and I could hear her trudging through the water on the other side of the vehicle. She didn't bother to close the door, and the body of water started to fill the driver's side of the vehicle submersing the pedals.

I pushed against the resistance of the water, as I opened the door. My camera bag was now slung around my chest in an attempt to keep the equipment dry. Water sloshed into the car as I exited, covering the seat. The water was just below my knees, and was just enough to cause trouble to the vehicle's engine. At least it seemed like all four tyres were back on solid ground, which was a big positive. The car wouldn't be floating away.

The water was cold. I breathed sharply. This made me acutely aware that my pockets were empty. Luckily, my wallet and phone remained on the dashboard, where it was dry. I leant back in, and grabbed them, holding them as tightly as possible.

Sparks and the acrid smell of smoke emerged from the stereo. The car's electronic systems were short circuiting. They played a tune of whines, pops and hisses. There was no rhythm in the song that the water wove through the electrical system. The cabriolet would never move again, unless pushed or towed, or rebuilt completely at considerable expense. I trudged away from the vehicle to take in my surroundings.

Violet looked miserable. Her jeans were soaked through, and clung to her calves. The water was starting to drain from the road at a fairly rapid pace. "I'm sorry about your car." I thought about splashing her with some of the water, as it rushed toward a stormwater drain. A vortex spun over the top of the drain, and it reminded me of water emptying from a bathtub. It made me think for a moment, how many litres of water does it take to destroy a car? Exactly as many as are going down that drain.

I trudged to the dry land by the curb side. Here, the water was only ankle deep. Violet spoke in reply. "If it is a write off, I'll be okay. I'll miss the hunk of metal, but I'll be okay." She seemed resigned. Reality was starting to sink in. "Well, Walter; if this is what you meant about stopping to jump in puddles... I'm happy that I could oblige." She seemed calmer, a stark contrast from the outburst of emotion she had shown when the vehicle stopped functioning, where the palm of her hand slammed into the steering wheel.

"I guess we won't be jumping in puddles at the lighthouse then?" I asked. Her bottom lip trembled, and I thought she was about to break down, or worse, burst out in anger. Before she could make a decision about how to react, I let my judgement slip, and kicked a few hundred thousand molecules of water in her direction. She gasped in shock as the coldness of the water soaked into her clothing. Then she retaliated, spraying the back of my jeans with some water as revenge.

Dry land. A suburban street. Cars were avoiding the rapidly draining water, which had almost entirely receded from the vehicle, only a third of the tyres were underwater now. Homes stretched out along the road, thinning to an industrial area; and then; there was the highway, a road we wouldn't see for quite some time.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked Violet. She shivered in response, clouds still lingered menacingly overhead, but the majority of the sun's rays were hidden behind the mountains from which we'd came. It was getting a bit cold. "Tow truck." It sounded almost like a child asking for her favourite toy. A police car passed, its sirens wailing. Someone was probably having a worse day, somewhere.

Brakes screeched. The sirens stopped. The police car stopped about thirty metres away from where I was standing. Two more police vehicles joined it. Well, that can't be good. "Maybe one of those guys would be able to help?" I started to walk toward the vehicles as officers spewed out of the cars, and approached the residence where they had stopped.

I felt Violet's hand clasp onto my wrist. Her hands were softer than I'd expected. "No," she stammered. "Let's just call a tow." I nodded. She extracted her phone from her pocket, and wandered a few metres away as cars cautiously passed the unfolding police operation several doors down. I wonder what happened there?

This is a great way to start a road trip, I suppose. Violet and I had set out from her shared accommodation earlier that morning just after lunch, and my heart was full of adventure, and planning. I had plotted out rest breaks, fuel stops, and attractions to stop at along the way to give us both the opportunity to have some time outside of the car.

We'd have plenty of time outside of the car now, by the looks of things. Six hours into a two-week road trip; and the most important part, the car; was no longer a part of the journey. What would I suggest to her this evening to try and salvage the situation? Had this blown out the opportunity of a romance, that I thought once may have been possible with the pharmacist lady I met on the Internet?

The police men were shouting further down the street. If there was someone home, they weren't opening the door. If there wasn't, the police men were wasting their breath. Violet returned with an update. "It's Saturday," she said, "That means that there's only two tow truck operators working in this city." That sounded like I would get to hear more police men shouting down the street, and get to see what was about to unfold. She sighed. "It'll be about an hour before he gets here."

When you don't know exactly where you are, and you need to get to somewhere else, an hour feels like forever. At least I wasn't stranded on an alien planet, with limited reserves of oxygen. "I'll call the hotel we had booked," I didn't know how to feel, or even, what to say. I got out my phone, found the booking confirmation email, and dialled. I was surprised when a computerised voice didn't answer.

"Thank you for calling the Athena lodge, how can I help?" It was a woman's voice. She sounded like she'd been drinking coffee since the moment she first opened her eyes. There was so much energy and enthusiasm in her voice. I almost didn't want to give her the bad news that we wouldn't be staying the night. I didn't really know what I was going to say until I said it. "I have a booking for tonight, and it doesn't look like we will be able to make it."

"Walter?" It sounded as though my reservation was the only one that was booked. That, or the other reservations had already arrived, avoiding floodwaters, unlike me. "How did you-"
"You're the only booked guest." Great. "Also, caller id is a great thing; I tell people that I'm psychic, but really, it just takes a close attention to detail." She paused. "Will you be making it tomorrow? The booking notes said road trip, trouble on the highway?" She sounded like this was a commonplace issue with bookings to the lodge, and if there was rain like this all the time, then there would likely be a few cars stranded in water.

"I don't think so," I sighed. "I imagine that due to the late notice we won't be able to get a refund?"
"Our policy indicates that would not be possible, sir, I am sorry; you can rebook, for 15% of your original booking fee."
"Sorry, but I don't think so, we're broken down in -" Where were we? "Just off the highway, near uh," Violet had to know. She'd called the tow truck. "One moment."

"Where are we?" I asked, looking over to Violet.
"The outskirts of Norfolk." She replied quickly.
"Norfolk," I repeated into the phone.
"Well, I might have some good news for you." I could use some, but I'm not really sure what you're meant to do with good news.
"Oh?" I asked.
"You might be lucky if it is my brother who picks you up in the tow Truck. If you get Vinnie, that's my brother!" She sounded terribly excited about this prospect.
"It's a small world," I wondered why I'd be considered lucky if the man, Vinnie rocked up.
"Yes, it is. He does night shift here. If you're lucky, you might be able to get a lift with him here to the lodge." I considered the idea. It seemed really odd. A tow truck driver by day, a night manager at a hotel? When does this man sleep?

"Definitely something to consider," I stated, not knowing if this was good luck, or just a coincidence. I wouldn't even know if it was Vinnie coming to pick up the car or not. I felt that something like this would wrench me entirely out of my comfort zone. I was already pretty close to the boundary. I wasn't so sure that Violet would like the suggestion. "I'll call back if we do end up on our way."

The lodge was only seventeen miles away, and the lighthouse was two and a half miles further down the coast. With two tow drivers, a fifty percent chance seemed like it was a flip of the coin. Time to update Violet.

"So, we might make it there," I said, tapping the reservation email on my phone as though she could see what I was referencing. "The tow truck driver might be the brother of the girl who works the desk at the hotel, apparently, he also does a night shift there,"

"Fifty percent." Violet's eyes lit up. Those were good odds, the same as a coin toss. It seemed like a reasonable chance. You either go, or you stay. The sound of a diesel engine idling caught my attention.

Surely it hadn't been an hour already? It hadn't been. A van had joined the row of parked police cars down the road. It had a satellite dish mounted on the roof, and seemed to be from the local news channel. It was about ten metres away. The satellite on its roof slowly started to ascend. A broadcast was about to happen. Breaking down right in front of a police raid with a media crew present. Great.

They were making a lot of noise. Enough to distract Violet, and to cut the conversation short. Another vehicle had joined the parade. This one was armoured, and it looked like every single SWAT vehicle I'd seen in the movies. It roared up the street, and stopped, with the hiss of its brakes. Flashing lights were casting shadows in every direction. The back of the vehicle burst open, and a group of officers spilled out.

One of them was carrying a battering ram. It looked like they were going to make it into the house, no matter what happened. "This is fucking crazy," stammered Violet. "Walter, when you asked to come along on this road trip, this is definitely not what I had planned. I'm sorry."

"This isn't your fault," I replied. "I hadn't planned on seeing your car destroyed." The scene continued to unfold before my eyes. The officers from the original patrol cars moved back, to allow the newest, more armed squad do their work. Two of the officers worked the battering ram. There was a heavy thud that seemed to echo through the pavement, almost from below.

"I knew it!" An unidentified, gruff voice. I turned, and there was a man. He was wearing a plaid shirt, and had a brow creased with wrinkles. The stubble on his face suggested he hadn't shaved in a few days. The man spoke with an enthusiasm that seemed to defy his stature. "I knew they were up to no good! I've lived here twenty years, and from the moment they moved in I knew they trouble!"

The broken-down car had become part of the scenery. There was a much more dramatic event unfolding. "What sort of trouble?" I was curious, even if it was curiosity about to be filled by the ramblings of a complete stranger. "Drugs." That's when Violet perked up.

"Surely this town doesn't need a SWAT squad to deal with a chemist manufacturing some drugs?" I looked closer at the police vehicles. They were from a few jurisdictions, with only one being labelled Norfolk. It seemed like a big police operation. Sightseeing, at its best. The man spoke again, eyes darting around the area, especially at the approach of a man in a poor-quality suit. The journalist coming to get an interview from the local wildlife.

"Not weed, crack or that shit." He paused, eyes darting again, hands drawing circles in the air before him. "Really serious stuff. Cutting edge. For disease treatment. The elixir of youth!" The guy sounded like he was insane. If he knew they were trouble, then what was he? About to be interviewed, it seemed, as the man in the suit approached.

"Malcom Bennet, Reporter for Channel 43." The reporter pushed his way between me and the man in the plaid shirt. He seemed like the type that was used to interrupting conversations. He extended his hand. “I’d like to interview you, Mr…?” The man’s eyes darted again, and it was clear he was not comfortable with having a conversation with the media. He affirmed this with the next statement that he made. "I don't want to speak with you!" He angrily spat the words out, combative.

The reporter didn't bat an eyelid. He swivelled, and turned to Violet. "Would you care to make a statement, ma'am?" She shook her head. The reporter didn't give up, I guess I was next. Before he could ask me the same question, another thud was heard down the street. I wondered what the door was made of for it to withstand a squad of men hammering at it with a piece of equipment designed to break it.

"I'm just a tourist," I said, anticipating his question. "I don't wish to be interviewed." I wasn't going to give him a story. It took me a moment to realise that with the very statement I had just made, I’d given the man a story. I jumped. Loud crackling erupted from the other end of the street. It appeared that the real story was unfolding there, with gunpowder and flashes of light.

The reporter wasn’t about to give up. For a moment, I wished I could go home, and forget everything that had happened. This wasn’t going to be an ordinary trip. “Please, sir, just a moment of your time?”

I sighed. I had nothing better to do while waiting for the tow truck, anyway. It was probably going to make him an interesting story anyway. More sirens, an ambulance had joined the scene.