Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Resistance

24) Of Mice and Men

We are traveling as quickly towards Mount Airy as we can on a moped with two people and two stuffed backpacks. So, in other words, not too fast. It is a good thing too because we are having to avoid a few broken down vehicles and wrecks and crazy amounts of miscellaneous junk. I swear, we just almost sideswiped a refrigerator. Who in their right mind deserted town for something they thought was safer and decided to pack the fridge? Unbelievable. The power hasn't been on in weeks, months.

After our almost head on collision with the fridge, we pick up a little speed when I advise Steven, who is driving, to go onto the shoulder. This seems like a good idea, and soon we are gaining ground. Why didn't I think of this before?

We go along at a good clip until we hit the fallen road sign.

There is a reason that road signs don't blow over in a good wind. They are anchored by concrete, and this is why Steven's left foot is now almost surely broken. We both flew over the handle bars like we were one person when we hit the sign. His foot took his weight and mine when we finally came to a stop in the road, and now it is all purple and swollen and road rashed.

Steven does not cry, but that's ok because I am doing enough whimpering and tearing up for us both. I scraped my elbow pretty bad, but that is only my excuse for tears that refuse to remain hidden. I screwed up this rescue mission before we got started good. I could take Steven back to camp, but the moped is in worse shape than Steven. There is no way I can carry him, and I know Steven can't hop back to the farm, though I estimate we have not gone more than a couple of miles.

Two miles into our journey to find my parents, and I am on the verge of violating the no crying rule again. I bite my lip.

As night falls, it is Steven who breaks our silence after I finally quit sniffling.

"There's no crying in baseball."

I blow my nose and then say, "I know Steven. I'm a big 'ol crybaby. Sorry."

"You're frustrated, Elie. I understand."

"You're right, I am. Nothing I ever plan seems to work out these days."

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray."

Of Mice and Men. The last book we read in English class before the world stopped caring about great literature and authors who can make you ache with the beauty of their words.

"That book didn't end well for Lenny and... who was his friend? I forget."

Steven thinks before he answers, "Umm? Fred? George? His good friend George."

"A sad story for sure. Two friends. Like us." I swallow some water and offer Steven some.

"Yeah, like us," says Steven. He shifts his weight a little to swallow some Advil and drink from the water bottle, and his grimace tells me he is the one who should be crying.

"What are we going to do, got any ideas? Any plans?" I ask.

"We could pray," suggests Steven. "We haven't done that since we left home."

"Seems like it has been a waste of time, so far."

"Except, we've made it so far."

I almost laugh. "Yeah, it looks like we're doing great. You can't walk, and you only have a cry baby, who is impulsive and makes terrible plans, to help you out of this mess. Let's face it, Steven, we need more than prayer. Praying is just making us weak."

"Well, I'm gonna say at least a silent prayer. You should too."

Steven closes his eyes, and I can see his lips moving in prayer.

There is a moment of silence like we had in school after all the school shootings. I am not going to lie, I don't pray. I silently curse our circumstances and God who has obviously turned His back on His people.

I don't feel like His people anymore.

Only because of our moment of silence do we hear something approaching. I look at Steven as if to ask - what the hell is that noise? Steven doesn't answer back immediately and puts his finger on his mouth like shh. We listen. There is something headed our way. Not a car or someone on foot. It is a putt, putt sound approaching. Not an engine sound, more like a rumble with a whine. We are still on the shoulder in tall grass, but we flatten ourselves to hide. Steven moans a little with the move.

We see two small headlights bobbing up and down, and we hear her. We hear singing. Turns out, it is ok for your plans to go astray when you have friends who got your back.

The cavalry has arrived. It would be a funny sight, except we are so damn glad to see them.

It is Cindy Lou driving a golf cart and singing to her baby.