Hopeful Undertone

Chapter 7: Questions

We turned off the interstate and found ourselves driving down a two-lane road that alternated between scenic forests and hilly farmland. Gusts of wind buffeted the van and sent ripples through the fields so that they almost shimmered. The boys were still asleep in back, the radio station was going fuzzy in the background, and Tyler had called me pretty.

My brain, momentarily scrambled by his comment, decided to shove away all thoughts of its sincerity or ramifications. What else could he possibly have said to 'my mom died of cancer, and I can't remember her at all'? Of all the arbitrary ways to end that conversation, he had chosen to say something kind; it didn't have to be deeper than that. 

"So... What's your favorite color?" he asked out of the blue, raking his hair through his very short hair almost compulsively. Was he nervous?

"Green," I said. 

"Nice," he replied. 

We sat in awkward silence for a few seconds, then both of us burst out laughing.

"What's your favorite color?" I tried, imagining myself kicking a flat ball back to him.

"Blue. Next question!" 

"Shh," I said, looking behind us. "You'll wake the babies." 

"Nah, these guys were up past two in the morning playing video games," Tyler said. "Plus, Josh could literally sleep through an earthquake."

"Literally?" 

"No joke," he said. "Last summer we played a show in L.A. and he literally slept through a five-point-something magnitude earthquake. It wasn't even nighttime. He was just napping." He chuckled at the memory.

"That's impressive," I said.

"Yeah, so next question," Tyler said. "Let's go, I'm bored." 

"Favorite dessert?" I asked.

"Chocolate chip cookies, but they have to be homemade by my mom," he said. "What's your deepest fear?" 

"Whoa, okay," I said. "My favorite dessert is tiramisu, by the way. Deepest fear... probably a tie between flying on an airplane and demons."

"Flying on an airplane and demons?" he repeated. "Demons, like from Hell?"

"Yes. Stop laughing!" I said, but his laugh was contagious. "I watched this thing about a Catholic priest who's an exorcist. This guy says he's met the devil twice, and—what is so funny?"

Tyler was bent over with silent laughter, smacking his leg. 

"I just love how your first fear is something totally commonplace, normal—"

By now, I was cracking up too. 

"And your second fear is just—" he could barely get the words out, "demons from Hell."

I laughed so much that I snorted, which just made both of us laugh harder, until finally I caught my breath again, wiping my eyes. 

"Demons are nothing to joke about," I said. "Clearly I need to send you that documentary. Anyway... What's your deepest fear?"

"Oh gosh," he sighed, still recovering. "Uhh probably losing my mind?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I think that's it," he said, with a lighter-hearted tone than he probably could've managed if we hadn't just finished laughing ourselves to tears. "Losing control of my mind."

"In what way?" I pressed softly. "Are we talking about dementia or just insanity in general?"

"Yeah, just..." he said, glancing at me as if to decide whether to elaborate. He scratched his fingers through his hair again compulsively.