Friday, December 20, 2013
sped, Neal bare-chested, I with my feet on the dashboard, and the
college boys sleeping in the back. We stopped to eat breakfast at a
diner run by a white haired lady of the land who gave us extra large
portions of potatoes as churchbells rang in the nearby town. Then off
again. “Neal don’t drive so fast in the daytime.” “Don’t worry man I
know what I’m doing.” I began to flinch. Neal came up on lines of cars
like the Angel of Terror. He almost rammed them along as he looked for
an opening. He teased their bumpers, he eased and pushed and craned
around to see the curve, then the huge car leaped to his touch and
passed and always by a hair we made it back to our side as other lines
filed by in the opposite direction and I shuddered. I couldn’t take it
any more. It is only seldom that you find a long Nebraskan straightaway
in Iowa and when we finally hit one Neal made his usual 110 and I saw
flashing by outside several scenes that I remembered from 1947---a long
stretch where Eddy and I had been stranded two hours. All that old road
of my past unreeling dizzily as if the cup of life had been overturned
and everything gone mad. My eyes ached in nightmare day. “Ah shit Neal,
I’m going in the backseat, I can’t stand it any more, I can’t look.”
“Hee hee hee!” tittered Neal and he passed a car on a narrow bridge and
swerved in dust and roared on. I jumped in the backseat and curled up to
sleep. One of the boys jumped in front for the fun. Great paranoiac
horrors that we were going to crash this very morning took hold of me
and I got down on the floor and closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep.
As a seaman I used to think of the waves rushing beneath the shell of
the ship and the bottomless deeps thereunder---now I could feel the road
some twenty inches beneath me unfurling and flying and hissing at
incredible speeds and on and on across the groaning continent. When I
closed my eyes all I could see was the road unwinding into me. When I
opened them I saw flashing shadows of trees vibrating on the floor of
the car. There was no escaping it. I resigned myself to all. And still
Neal drove, he had no thought of sleeping till we got to Chicago. In the
afternoon we crossed old Des Moines again. Here of course we got
snarled in traffic and had to go slow and I got back in the front
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