The road aside

Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations

"Yes!" He said it out loud as he flicked the wheel to the side, forcing the car into a long, tire burning, squealing slide.

"The crap I care about you, Tomias". "I do not care about you or your damn car".

And to emphasize that thought he mashed down on the throttle, straightening the wheel and accelerating out of the corner, burning up even more of the tires.

Jean was sick and tired of all the jeering and gesturing that he'd endured throughout his brief stay at the academy.

Now, he was going home, and Tomias, his chief bully, had supplied him the transport.

Well, supplied without actually permitting anyhow. But that was all part of the righteousness of it. That and the ticket he'd swiped.

A ticket for one at the New Orleans dance factory.

"Nice!" Jean mentally patted himself on the back for the inspiration and presence of mind in grabbing the slip of paper as he'd pocketed the keys to Tomias's prized 'vette.

Jean downshifted a gear, hopping the tacho up a notch and forcing the engine to scream.

"Yeah, burn that oil Bitch!" he pumped a fist into the air, the soft top of the convertible lifting slightly as he punched into it.

The front of the car nosed up slightly as he gave it more gas, the long blue-black hood reflected the sun and just looked cool.

That was when he noticed the giant pothole right in the middle of the road.

And he was already going way too fast.

"Oh sh-" the thought flashed through his head as he tried to maneuver the suddenly fishtailing sport car.

He stomped on the brakes instinctively, twisting the wheel, trying to avoid an early end to the trip. No avail.

It was almost like the pothole wanted him to hit it. Needed it.

Because nothing he was doing was helping. At all.

And hit it he did. The car slammed into the break in the tarmac and launched up the other side, rolling as it did.

Upside down, Jean had time somehow to contemplate the humor of his situation.

Stolen the ride, to get revenge on the asses at the school and both car and road were conspiring to punish him - for the theft?

He could see them now.

Marietta the head mistress in her too tight, don't look at me dresses, ready to threaten him with detention.

Luke his other bully laughing at his inability to do algebra - and drive.

And, of course Elois, Tomias's girlfriend. Teasing him without even looking at him.

Curling up her foot as she smiled vacantly at that dog head Tomias and rubbing her cheerleader flat belly"

"Mom and Dad are gonna totally kill me if I don't die right now". His thoughts zoomed in on his mother, scowling at him from the corner of some room, his father also with pursed lips looking to see what new error he'd made.

"I'm gonna die and they are pissed. this is just - "

The world went black as the car impacted upside down in the stony dirt scrub that ran along the winding cemetery road.

It slid, spinning like a top, balanced somehow on the metal of the roof supports, throwing up a dust cloud.

The carcass of the car slammed into a gravestone, demolishing it and hurling Jean's body out of the vehicle to land flopping into a freshly dug grave.

Disturbed by the arriving body, the mound of dirt beside the grave tumbled slowly into it, partially covering Jean's torso.

"And that was how great grand pappy met his fate".

Little Susie snapped her notebook shut and stood up sharply, bringing to a close her turn at show and tell.

The class facing her was quiet, they had been entirely enraptured by Susie's story telling. Most of the dozen or so students were leaned forward in their seats, elbows propped, the very picture of concentration.

Alika, sitting in the back next to the window raised her hand.

"But if Jean died, how are you here?"

Alika was one of those unreasonably sharp students who always found the crack in logic. Always willing to shine a light on it too.

"I mean, shouldn't you like, not exist... Suse?"

Suse was Susie's informal name. Not an unusual contraction, but it fully irritated Susie.

"I'm here because mom had me anyhow, that's why,"

Susie said sticking her tongue out at the same time.

"You big dummy"

Susie thought, right after her pronouncement.

"Oh, but I thought Jean was just in school."

"Wait, who was your great grandma?"

"Ohhh, was your grandma Elois!?"

"That makes total sense now"

Alika had just connected every single dot and arrived correctly at the conclusion.

"So that's why Jean was so angry right?"

"Cause his girl friend ditched him!!"

Alika was unrelenting in her logic and it struck home exactly like a guided missile.

"That's not a great line of questioning Alika"

"We talked about this with you and your parents last semester"

The classroom was run by Mrs. Sakalov, a delightfully rotund woman.

The glasses perched cheerfully on her face were at odds slightly with her hair, which was pinned back in a severe bun.

She smiled grimly as she knocked Alika down a peg.

"Niceness is as niceness does"

She was fond of little sayings, using them as a reinforcement to whatever commandment she issued.

Susie was pleased of course by the allegiance shown by Mrs. Sakalov and demonstrated it by thumbing her nose at Alika.

"Yeah, so there!"

Susie flounced back to her seat.

"Can I go next please Mrs. Sakalov?"

Alika raised her hand as she asked to tell her story.

"Absolutely Alika, what is your essay about again?"

Mrs. Sakalov narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she spoke. The glasses slid off her nose at the move and she raised one portly hand to push them back into place.

"Oh god, what is Alika going to present this time - probably some damned zombie adventure"

Willa, which was Mrs Sakalov given name couldn't help the sudden sharp spike of acid as the thought wedged itself in her mind.

"It is about that time my family survived the zombie apocalypse Mrs Sakalov".

Alika looked entirely serious as she spoke, beginning to stand from her seat.

Willa pursed her lips as she looked at Alika.

"Just like I thought."

Willa almost said the words out loud, but restrained herself instead gesturing Alika forward to the podium