So how did he end up there, wherever there is…

Lonely roads and lost towns. Quiet places where you can think.
Not that that necessarily gets you anywhere.
Space is what it is, as are people.

This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright : KLS 2007

Escape to Yourself - Before

By Kristina.L.S.

He sat arms on knees and watched as the road train pulled away, slowly gathering speed and gradually disappearing into the heat haze. Pulled himself to his feet and looked toward where his hat had sailed after being tossed Frisbee like from the drivers window. His small leather duffle sat only a few metres away, covered in soft red brown dust. He patted himself down a little raising clouds of dust. Crossed the road and after a minute or so found his hat snagged on a piece of brush, slapped it twice on his thigh to clear dust and maybe a bug or two and jammed it back on his head.

Re-crossed the road to his bag and searched for a patch of shade, to sit and gather his thoughts. A few dusty eucalypts offered some small respite from the heat so grabbing the shoulder strap of his bag he wandered the few hundred metres along the road and sat on the sparse grass against the trunk.

The view was slightly uninspiring, a few scattered farm buildings away to his right across the road. He briefly considered heading there and asking for… what? He had two one and half litre water bottles tucked in his bag, he'd eaten only a few hours before and unfortunately had drunk coffee. Expecting to be riding in the truck cabin for a few hours the diuretic properties had taken a back seat to warm pleasure after the post dawn chill. He shrugged slightly, he'd walk and see where the road went.

Slipped a little more upright and into a cross-legged position, absently pulling the hat from his head and the elastic tie with it, shook out his hair. Running his fingers quickly through it a few times to shake loose a bit of dust and grit. His gaze wandered the other way spotting a big wedge tail sitting on a fence post some hundred metres or so up into a paddock, slowly and deliberately pulling pieces from what appeared to be the carcass of a small roo. As he watched he almost unconsciously finger combed and slowly plaited his hair twisting the tie to hold its end between his shoulder blades.

Every so often the Eagle would hop slightly, stretching its wings for balance, to resettle itself and adjust the position of dinner. He tried to judge its size and guessed the wingspan would be wider than he was tall. That brought a small wry smile to his lips, 'outclassed by a bloody bird'… impressive though it was. He sat there for a while just daydreaming and half watching the bird feed. Eventually it launched itself lazily into the air, the remainder of its food clutched in the talons and trailing out behind and below. As it slowly gained height and drifted almost effortlessly off toward the distant hills, his thoughts returned to the immediate past.

He'd been dropped at a crossroads, the taciturn, fortyish driver of the old Landcruiser seemed troubled by his near silent passenger.

The quiet, semi question, "I can take you as far as Taylors Rd, if that's any good…"

He had no idea where Taylors Rd was so just nodded and climbed in. The ride had been completely silent after that until, the Toyota pulled over, "Well this is far as I go this way. You take care ok. Not everyone's as easygoing as you might hope."

"Thanks, I'll be careful." He'd climbed out as the guy watched silently sucking his teeth as though trying to decide something. Then blowing out softly he nodded through the open window and with a languid wave, headed on to wherever he was going.

He stood for a minute watching the Toyota kick up the dust on the dirt side road and then turned to head along the edge of the tar strip heading vaguely north. Walked for an hour or two waving off a couple of cars that slowed as if to ask…'lift?' Finally as dusk approached he had come across one of those semi official truck stop lay-bys. Seven rigs pulled off the road forming a makeshift camp. The drivers, all men were either sitting on small folding camp chairs waiting for the water suspended over the fire to boil, or doing end of day checks before settling down for the evening.

As each became aware of the lone figure they had stopped talking or doing and silently watched, making those automatic assumptions we all make and asking silent questions.

As he got close the question was called, "What the hell are you doin' walkin' around out here on yer own girl? Come in and have a cuppa."

Another small folding chair was produced and he sat with a silent nod as they all gathered closer and watched silently. The conversation slowly resumed as they quietly watched from the corners of their eyes. As the water came to the boil each poured their preferred poison, a cup was produced as both tins were waved in question, 'tea or coffee?'

"Coffee, please." A Long life milk carton and a small container of sugar were nudged with a boot toe to indicate, 'help yourself '. He fixed his cup and sat, leaning forward elbows on knees, sipping… silently aware of the unasked questions.

The conversation rambled on around him as he half listened and half daydreamed. Memories of old battles, scars both emotional and physical for some reason seemed closer than normal tonight. He was peripherally aware of the quiet scrutiny of those around the fire, but it was distant as he gazed into the flames, sipped his coffee and remembered.

His thoughts flashed back and forth following no logical pattern as dreams often did. Did that apply while you were still awake he mused to himself… seemed so.

People and places he'd been and met, names he could remember and many he could not. Confrontations and an occasional pleasant scene.

His Father, slapping him hard enough across the face to drop him to the ground because he had dared to argue. His Mother shaking him violently back and forth and screaming at him… enough with the questions just do as you're told. The spittle sticking to his face and the feeling of it drying… still vivid, as was the memory of her tears.

School days; being chased, over under and around by those deputised to bring him to the teacher, until he had finally stopped and given himself up. Later being beaten and teased until he had reacted violently when confronted by five of his main tormentors. The taunts and images still rang clear years later; that day when one of his adversaries had stopped him on the way to class. Surrounded by his peers he had held out his clenched fist as the mob slowly surrounded…'kiss it'… and when defiantly he had, then licking the knuckles and spitting on the ground, that fist had smashed into his face bringing stars and a small trickle of blood. And so it went until his retaliation had gotten so frenzied and violent that no one was willing to deliberately chance his wrath.

From then on the taunts were lessened and the abuse almost stopped. The odd 'freak' loudly whispered as he passed, an occasional slap to the back of the head when it was impossible to determine who out of a dozen. But, generally he was left alone… and that was how he liked it.

Jobs and relationships, none lasted and all were left either puzzled or saddened or angry. For him it was another question, 'what did they want that he could not give?' And so it went.

He had gradually developed a system to take menial jobs as and when to fill his account as much as possible, before heading off again in search of… what?

His thoughts were shaken back to the present by the stamping of feet and the general busy-ness of bedtime preparations. It seemed he had been dreaming for hours. His quiet request to be allowed to bed down near the fire had been laughed at, his blush and obvious anger even more.

A hand on his shoulder had caused a jump to a fight stance that had startled them all.

"Hey come on there. Easy lass. No offence was meant by the laughter, we are all bedding down here in the open, but take the cabin"… he waved to a nearby truck with a sleeping alcove behind the seats. " No one will bother ya, you have our word. Sleep easy and we'll see where ya headin' and what may be done in the mornin' eh."

He had after a few minutes accepted the invitation as genuine and after a dark behind bushes toilet break, climbed into the cabin and slept till near dawn.

The first noises of the new day had roused him and he had crept out intending to start the fire and get water boiling. It seemed though that the owner of the truck had beaten him to it. A softly spoken, "Never you mind lassie, go have a pee and coffee will be up in a minute. Then we'll see about where ya's goin'."

And so he had washed his face in the night chilled water from a small tank, re-plaited his hair and relieved himself behind a bush. Feeling slightly revived he returned to hot cup and an unspoken question.

It was perhaps another hour before all were up and about and ready to depart. After failing to get any definite destination they had all decided he would ride with the owner of the truck he'd slept in, getting out when and where it suited.

That had been fine until the questions started not long after they had set out. At first he had refused to answer. The questions became more pointed and more personal. Until finally the driver had stopped in the middle of the back country road.

"Listen you stupid little bitch. I don't care about who you are or where you are not going to. I just don't want to hear about you raped and dead in a ditch somewhere. I don't want that image in my head, do you understand. So just give me an answer to a question, why is everyone your enemy? Most people are kind and good given the chance. But you don't let anyone get even close do you."

He had sat glaring and slowly getting angrier as his passenger just sat glaring back looking to be ready for a fight.

Eventually he had grabbed the hat from the dash and flung it out his window with a yell of rage and frustration. He jumped down and stormed across the front of the truck, grabbed open the passenger door and pulled the still silent passenger out and dumped her on her arse in the dust beside the road. When she still made no sound but simply glared at him, he reached in grabbed her bag strap and flung it backwards over his shoulder.

"You stupid little cow. I hope you get your head on straight before some lowlife kicks it in. But what little I've seen of you I doubt it. Grow up before you lose the chance."

With that his anger seemed to fade and he simply stood looking at her sitting where she been dropped. When after a few minutes there was no response save a sullen glare he yelled again in an inarticulate mixture of frustration and muted anger. Raising both arms above his head fists clenched he had stared into the sky for a moment before his arms lowered slowly and he stood again, just looking. Still there was nothing but a stubborn stare. With a soft guttural grunt he had turned and rounded his truck, climbed up and slamming the door hard, headed away with a slight crunch of gears.

It was he guessed mid morning and the heat was well up. He had been walking for a few hours he supposed and had almost emptied one of his water bottles. Another car had just driven past with no hint of stopping…

This took slightly longer than the first bit. I don't think there will be any more.

Any thoughts, comments or questions
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