country sketches

That was all I needed to hear and I was gone. The small light illuminated on the porch and all the moths collected there. I got in the truck and there was his gun leaning on the passenger seat. I guess he went hunting this morning but he didn't say anything about that. The truck stunk like cigar smoke and other chemicals that changed his opinions about things. And I imagined I was driving a sailboat and the smoothness of sails against the sky were tires against pavement. My hands were guiding my direction and I could easily leave and never be seen again. Its not the first time I thought about that. When I was a kid, innocent and confused, I'd draw out elaborate maps, planning my escape options. Then I'd use bigger maps of the Pacific in the geography books we had at the bottom of the stairs. Who would have expected it to all burn? The steps, the books, the house. I didn't, but I wasn't surprised when suddenly my childhood home became ashes over night. and actually its more comforting, but I didn't say that to anyone who asked about it.

I'm driving my sails across the dark road, like one stretch of desert that connects all America to its heart,

wherever that is. I guess its just where we want it to be. I can smell the night settling as I come up to the gas station. Margaret asks about my family and I tll her we're all fine while I buy the pack of cigars and a Coke.

'These for you daddy?'
'Yeah, they are. I tell him he needs to stop. He doesn't listen to me.'
'Well, your daddy is a good man but I swear he's the most stubborn I've ever known.'
I don't care about these things anymore. My responsibilty isn't for my father. I won't and can't carry that weight.

'Thank you Margaret.'
'You're welcome. Tell your family I said hello. I heard about the house? Sure is strange, isn't it?'
'Really strange.'
'Sure is... I heard about that. Sure is a shame. Stop in every once and a while, okay?'
'Yes, ma'am. I will.'