Take It With Me

The next day passed by very, very slowly for Tom. He had somewhat of a love-hate relationship with the road. On one hand, it was incredible, seeing all the new sights and meeting new people and feeling the road passing underneath the rubber of his tires. But on the other hand, he had to sit still. For hours and hours and hours on end.

With nothing to entertain him but slimy Anthony.

“… and then she said to go to hell, and I said ‘honey, as long as you’re here, I’m already there!’” he guffawed, slapping his leg.

“That’s hysterical, Anthony. Really and truly,” Tom murmured, reading a particularly interesting article about car stereos in last month’s Playboy.

Okay, so he wasn’t reading the articles. He was looking at the centerfold.

Who really bought a Playboy to read the articles anyway?

“So, Tom. You been thinking anymore ‘bout that little girl?” Anthony asked, sucking on the end of his Marlboro.

Tom looked up.

“Nah, not really,” he lied. He had tried not to think too much about Kitty. But he hadn’t succeeded.

“That’s my boy! Just think of all the tail that awaits you in San Diego. Mmm!” Anthony exclaimed.

“Uh-huh,” Tom mumbled, turning his magazine sideways to get a better look at the preview of next month’s girl.

Next month was this month.

December .

“Hey, Anthony, what day is it?” he asked. Anthony paused for a moment, then answered him.

“December 8th, I think. Yeah, that’s right. Hey, your birthday was yesterday, wasn’t it? Happy birthday, Tom! How old are you now, 26?”

Tom nodded.

“Yeah, I’m 26. Thanks, Anthony.”

Tom turned back to his magazines. After a while, birthdays weren’t a big deal anymore. He needed to find a payphone soon and call his mother, though. He hated to think of his poor mom, all alone. She was a good mother, but Tom always felt slightly guilty for who he was when he was around her. He knew that she was proud of him, but she was an old fashioned woman. Schoolteacher. She wanted a pretty little daughter in law and some fat grandbabies to bounce on her knee.

Tom shook his head, knowing it’d be a while before she got her wish. He sighed and scratched his head and willed himself not to think about it, getting lost in his magazine again. This time he read the articles.

For some reason, looking at pictures of pretty girls just didn’t cut it after you’d been with a real one the night before.

Tom sighed, putting down the old rag of a magazine. The articles in Playboy weren’t exactly the most enthralling or well written pieces.

Laying his head on his shoulder, he studied his new tattoo, admiring the detail of it from this close up. After a minute, he got bored with the tattoo and looked out the window, counting the Burma Shave signs on the side of the road. Railroad tracks crisscrossed across the countryside and trees grew wild and tall and then small and shoddy and finally dissolved completely into wide open cornfields and acres of grass, dotted with cows here and there. He closed his eyes, the noise of the road and conversations in the front of the van blending into one big din as he fell asleep. Right before he fell completely asleep, he laughed at the half formed thoughts coursing through his mind.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten his own birthday.