He Started It(62)

* * *



–––––

Breakfast in Idaho isn’t much different from breakfast in Wyoming except there are more potatoes. Actually, everything revolves around the potato, including the name of the place: Spuds.

Felix and I do not speak during the meal.

Portia notices. She talks the whole time about a dream she had, and it sounds like a convenient story. She also keeps looking over at Eddie, who alternates between nodding at what she’s saying and staring at his phone. If he notices Felix and I aren’t talking, he doesn’t say anything.

Even when we’re in the car, driving out of Idaho and into Washington, he doesn’t pay any attention to us. That’s no fun.

“Felix, where did you put the phone charger?” I ask.

He doesn’t even look at me. “You had it last.”

“No. You did.”

“Well, I don’t have it now.”

Felix’s tone is sharp enough to get Eddie’s attention. He glances away from the road and at me. “Plenty of chargers around. You can use mine.” Eddie nods toward the center console.

I reach over to get it, glaring at Felix in the process.

“Asshole.” I say this under my breath. Felix doesn’t respond.

I lean back in my seat, plug in the portable charger, and put on my headphones. The first text I get is from Portia.


You guys okay?



I say:


Yeah, just cabin fever.


We all have it. Not much longer now.


No, not much longer.



Thank God.

My mind has already started to drift to the end, to the desert.

Knowing where the trip ends is the biggest difference between the first trip and this one. Last time, we thought we were going all the way to the edge of California. This time we know we never made it that far, and I’ve still never been in that state. I’ve also never been back to Nevada.

Felix starts to eat a bag of chips, which normally wouldn’t bother me. Today I decide it does. “Do you have to be so loud?” I say.

He rattles the bag, making even more noise.

“Really?” I say.

“Yep. Really.” He puts a whole chip in his mouth and bites down hard, crunching unnecessarily with his mouth open. If we weren’t pretending to be in a fight, that would piss me off.

“Nice,” I say.

“All right,” Eddie says, putting up a hand like a referee. “I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but you sound like children.”

I admit we’re trying to provoke a response, I just didn’t realize how patronizing Eddie would be. Now I do want to argue.

“No worse than you and Krista,” I say.

“Ouch,” Portia says, leaning forward like she wants a better view. “She got you there.”

“She didn’t ‘get’ me.” Eddie throws her a dirty look in the rearview mirror. “She’s wrong. Krista and I argue but we don’t sound like five-year-olds.”

“Yeah, your arguments were really mature,” I say.

Eddie slams on the brakes and pulls off the road. He turns around, his blue eyes lit up like meteorites. “Look,” he says. “I’ve tried my best with you. I’ve tried to be as accommodating as I know how, as laid-back as . . .” Portia opens her mouth to speak but Eddie silences her. “Other than one night in jail, I’ve done everything I can to make this trip easy, including paying more than my fair share.” He looks at Portia.

She shrugs. Doesn’t argue.

“Maybe you don’t like me,” he says. “Maybe all of you hate me. Fine. I don’t care. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to talk. What we have to do is get through this.” He stops, takes a breath. “That’s it. Let’s just get through this.”





What do you see when you look in the mirror?

Someone who is screwed.

Someone who was too stupid to realize her own brother would align with the enemy. Of course he would. Of course. It’s Beth’s fault and it’s my fault and neither one of us should have forgotten how easy it is for someone to sneak up on you when you aren’t looking.

Like sperm. Those little things just sneak right up into you and bam, you’re pregnant.

Or like that guy following us. I’m still the only one who knows about him.





WASHINGTON


State Motto: Bye and bye

For the rest of the drive, Felix and I speak only in essential terms.

I’m hungry.

I have to go to the bathroom.

Roll up/down the window.

Felix and I don’t even text.

We do, however, keep an eye out for the truck. No one has seen it for a long time, and maybe it’s gone forever, but looking for it gives us something to do.

I also keep an eye out for the van.

It’s like this all the way to Colfax, Washington, home of the Codger Pole, and this is where Grandpa brought us instead of the amusement park. The pole is sixty-five feet high, made of wood, and it was carved with a chainsaw. I see the pole long before we get there, but I don’t point it out to Felix. I wait until we park and walk up to it, so he can see it up close. He stares at it, up it, around it.