Driving All Night
Harold liked the quiet of his drive home. No phones, no colleagues poking their heads over his partition, no computers beeping to announce more emails, and mostly, no demands from a boss who acted as if everyone she dealt with were beneath her. With the windows rolled up and sentimental oldies filling the car, the freeway noise was a gentle whoosh. Lights from oncoming traffic passed with soothing regularity. For the half hour it would take to get home from downtown San Diego, it would be his world, his cocoon where no one, not even his wife Janice, could make him feel small. It was Friday. He thought about dinner. He thought about plans for the weekend. He thought about nothing.
Agua Caliente Boulevard? That wasn’t right. He didn’t recognize the name on the exit sign. Maybe he had forgotten one. He and Janice had moved only two months ago, but he thought he knew the exits between home and work. Agua Caliente wasn’t one of them. He was sure of it. He was pretty sure. But he didn’t recognize the next exit either. Or the next.
“Call home.”
“Calling Rome Café,” the not-quite-human voice of the car’s automated system responded.
“No. Home! Not Rome.”
“Please say or press a line number.”
Harold looked at the display. There were listings for Nostrum’s Homeopathics. Noah’s Drums. And Home Lawn Gnomes.
“Never mind.” Harold pressed the button to end the call. Picking up his cell phone to dial it himself, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw a Highway Patrol car behind him. It gave a short blast of the siren as a warning. The patrol car pulled up next to him. The officer mimed holding a phone then wagged his fingers. Harold sighed and looked for the next exit, so he could pull off to call Janice.
Traffic on Wainwright Boulevard sped by relentlessly. When Harold was finally able to merge from the exit ramp, he realized that pulling over was not an option. Cars sped by, there were barely any shoulders, and the road ran straight into the night with no intersections or side streets visible. He’d have to keep going until he could turn into a residential area.
How was it possible that a highway offered no chance to turn for over five miles? Harold was frustrated. He was about to take a chance on the narrow shoulder even though trucks would be speeding by dangerously close when he saw a stop light ahead. He turned off and stopped in a nearby parking lot.
“I worry about you not paying attention to the road while you’re driving.” Janice sounded concerned.
“I am paying attention,” Harold groused. He tugged at the few remaining strands of hair that dangled over the center of his forehead.
“How can you be paying attention if you keep driving past our exit? This is the third time since we moved.”
“I know. I mean, I’m watching the road. Just not the signs.”
“Be careful, Harold. Where are you this time?”
“Well, I got off on Wainwright, but now, I’m not sure.” He couldn’t see any street names anywhere. “I’m near a Mr. Burger & Bun and a Westerall Gas station.” He was looking at a cluster of businesses that included a strip mall with a Chick-A-Dee Split fried chicken place, a Car-Go convenience store, and an O-Aces Donut shop.
“Harold, I don’t know where Wainwright—what is it, Road? Or Street?—is. Just get home as soon as you can. You want to get off at Summit Heights Way, right? I’ll keep dinner warm.”
Harold sighed as he hung up. He turned on the car’s navigation system. “Home!” he barked at it.
“Home not programmed,” the system replied with disinterest. Harold thought he had asked the intern to program his navigation system. Then he remembered. The intern, as always, was co-opted by one of the other accountants, one who claimed his task was more important than Harold’s.
He started to read out his address but thought better of it. He punched in the street and house number. When he saw the estimated time, he couldn’t believe that he had driven an hour and a half out of his way. How long had he been daydreaming?
The car map led him further north, even though he was sure I-8 was south of him. Oh well, he hadn’t been doing that well on his own. He decided to trust the map for a while. Finally. He saw a sign, “To I-8”. He was pretty sure that’s what it said, but as he passed it, it was blocked by tree branches.
“In one mile, turn left.”
Left? He thought the sign for I-8 pointed right. Sure enough, the route showed a connector road heading back to I-8 and a left turn.
“In 500 feet, turn left onto County Route 75.”
Harold slammed on the brakes as he was making the turn. The black and white barrier blocked the entire road. Black letters on an orange background shouted “Detour” at him. But there was no arrow to tell him which way to go.
“Harold, I thought you’d be home an hour ago. Where are you?”
“I’m not sure.” He tried not to be irritated with Janice. But he was embarrassed trying to explain, even to himself, how he’d gotten so lost.
“Well, what does the map say?”
“It wants me to take some county road back to I-8, but it’s blocked by a detour.”
“So, can’t you follow the detour?”
“It’s not marked and… Never mind. I’ll figure it out.”
“Well, be careful. You know your night vision is getting worse.”
He sighed. “Love you. See you soon as I can.”
Heading back the way he came seemed like the safest option. He turned the navigation system off after the fourth time it told him to make a U-turn. It really wanted him to take the road that was blocked by the detour. The road back seemed only vaguely familiar, but he had been irritated and distracted. It made sense that he hadn’t paid attention to the scenery.
The blue and red light of the Westerall Gas sign glowed comfortingly in the distance. At last, he felt that things were making sense again. Not listening to the stupid map was the right decision. As he pulled into the parking lot, the smell from the Chick-A-Dee Split was making him hungry. He really wanted to get some fried chicken, or a Mr. Burger & Bun, but he knew Janice would be upset if she kept dinner waiting for him and he wasn’t hungry and he knew that he didn’t need to add any more pounds to his already portly body. He opted for O-Aces donuts instead.