From: Lost To: The Universe

124.6863

I LOVE YOU TRACKSTAR

The words are bold, violet and gold against the streaked white background of an overturned semi trailer on the south side of the interstate, a souvenir of someone's very bad day in bygone years.

"That thing's been there since before you were born," Dad remarks, following my gaze. "The graffiti is new, though. Watch your following distance, Elliot."

"Yeah, sorry." I grip the steering wheel a little more tightly and tear my eyes from the graffiti and back to the road. We are cruising east toward Phoenix in Dad's SUV, going a little slower than everyone else because I still don't feel quite comfortable being in charge of a three-thousand pound missile.

"No worries. Just keep scanning, assume everyone else is three times dumber than average and they all want to kill you." He grins at me reassuringly. I like Dad when Mom isn't around, which is weird to say but it's true. He's kind of goofy and relaxed, which is a welcome change. I love Mom, but she can be wound a little tight sometimes, which is why I asked Dad to drive me to my group therapy session this evening.

Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.

The perils of traffic are not what has my heart pumping incessantly in my ears. I wonder what Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin felt like as they descended in their lunar module toward the untouched surface of the moon. Was it this? Terror of the unknown environment swirling below the haze of the landing thrusters? Or was it hope for the future, excitement and thrill at the prospect of adventure?

Group therapy doesn't feel like much of an adventure. So, I'm left with the terror, and the rythmic thumping continues without pause.

"So, are you excited for school to start next week? Senior year!" Dad drums his fingers rhythmically on his armrest in a way that I find very annoying. Between that and his constant fiddling with the air controls, he makes for a very distracting passenger and I can see why Mom refuses to drive with him.

"It's school," I say, offering the most excitement I can muster on the topic. "I'll be more excited when it's over."

"You say that, but that's because you've never had the privilege of attending one of my classes before," he says with a wry smile. "Enlightenment-era European history is both fascinating and, frankly, absolutely thrilling."

"If you say so," I offer unenthusiastically. My lack of zeal doesn't seem to deter him.

"Revolutions, Elliot. They shaped the world we live in today." He is gnarly giddy, the way he always gets when he talks about anything that happened over a hundred years ago. "Peletier. Garibaldi. Bismarck. Arguably, some of the greatest human minds walked the earth during that time."

" Galle. Laplace. Herschel. Well, all four of them, I guess."

"Astronomers, I'm guessing?"

"Yeah. Eighteenth and nineteenth centuries." I can tell Dad is somewhat impressed with this knowledge. "There's a bunch more, but they were pretty big. Especially the Herschels. Dad, Mom, and son daughter, all astronomers. Sir William Herschel discovered Uranus."

"I thought that was Galileo?"

I can barely suppress a snort. "No way, telescopes had just been invented. Until Herschel, everyone thought Saturn was the last planet in the solar system for, like, almost three thousand years."

"Wow," Dad chuckles, scratching his head. "You'd think I'd know that. I had no clue."

"Yeah, well, you've got to worry about sixty kids remembering how many wives King Geroge the Tenth had."

"King Henry the Eighth," He corrects me, a little sternly. "Divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived."

"Is that something I'm going to need to know this year?" A yellow sports car blasts by us on the right and I grip the steering wheel tighter; I know Dad can sense my nervousness.