Chapter 14
Thunder… thunder… thunder… thunder…
I was caught, in the middle of a railroad track, I looked round, and knew there was no turning back.
My mind raced, and I though what could I do, and I knew, there was no help, no help from you.
We sang along at the top of our lungs, letting the warm air whip around our hair as it filtered through the open windows. I played air guitar in the passenger seat passionately while Ben furiously drummed on the steering wheel. We passed semi-trucks and slow cars as we went dangerously fast down the left lane.
Sound of the drums, beating in my heart, the thunder of guns, tore me apart.
You’ve been, thunderstruck!
Ben sang in an octave lower than the lead singer’s breathy voice, while I tried to hit the high notes. I danced around in my seat and shredded my imaginary electric guitar, singing the guitar solos as if they were the lyrics. When the end of the song came, I smashed my guitar on the dashboard, then leaned out the window and yelled at the top of my lungs.
“Thank you, middle-of-nowhere Kansas! You’ve been a great audience! Have a good night and drive safe! I love you all,” I ducked back into the car and Ben was in hysterics.
“What’s next?”
I looked at the CD case we had just purchased, “Hey Jude by The Beatles.”
“The Beatles are classified as classic rock?”
“I guess so.”
We sang along to John Lennon’s smooth voice without a second of consideration. It was the kind of song that you had to sing along to, even if you didn’t know the lyrics well enough.
When we’d stopped for gas earlier, we found this CD for sale on the rack and decided it was crucial for our one way trip. ‘Classic Rock’s Greatest Hits Compilation Disc’ it read across the cover with a picture of an old guitar behind it. It featured artists like AC/DC, Bon Jovi, David Bowie, Jimi Hendrix, and Journey.
We had only been driving for about four hours, but boredom came in waves as we passed unchanging scenery. The rock music kept our minds busy for now, but it only had twenty songs on it. All in all, the trip would take about seven and a half hours.
The opening notes for Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones played over the speakers and we looked at each other with a growing smirk and turned it up. We chorused in with the oohs and swayed side to side.
Oh, a storm is threat’ning, my very life today, if I don’t get some shelter, oh yeah I’m gonna fade away.
War, children, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away, war, children, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away.
To mix it up, Ben sang along with the female vocals and I took the much lower male vocals. He was nowhere near the same pitch, but he sang with his usual unbelievable confidence. Ben drummed his fingers lightly and I tapped my foot on the floor. The mellow tune spilled through the slightly-distorted speakers.
Ooh, see the fire is sweepin’, our very street today, burns like a red coal carpet, mad bull lost your way.
War, children, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away, war, children, it’s just a shot away, it’s just a shot away.
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The Catch
General Fiction(Previously known as Sympathetic Indifference) At six years old, Hallie comes home to find her dad hanging from a necktie noose, and after that, her life goes downhill. Her mother’s abusive and alcoholic boyfriend moves in and Hallie spends four l...
