Bad Memories

“Hell, would you open your mouth and talk? I’m going nuts and we’re way behind schedule.”

My passenger sighed.

“What do you want me to say?” Erik Ford asked.

“Hell, anything is better than listening to road noise for the last ninety miles,” I smirked. “I’ve been pushing this rig as fast as I can. Now, I can’t stand country music and I don’t know Spanish, so the damn radio is no good. And I can’t get into those audio books since we drop cell signal every time the story is getting good.”

I grinned to myself.

“Partner, since it’s our first route together, give me your life’s story or something.”

Erik looked at me with those sad brown eyes, then his attention went back to the road. While I didn’t know him well, I noticed his changing demeanor as we drove Route 5. It was a long, bumpy stretch of pothole filled highway. Also, few other vehicles traveled the route, especially after night fell. Ford’s normally reserved expression gradually turned gloomier since we left Havre.

We were on the long haul and had one more stop at Scobey, which we needed to get to before midnight when the store closed. Convenience stores always need their soda and other drinks. Because of our long routes, I drove a cab-over semitrailer which carried plenty of plastic bottles loaded with carbonated drinks. The trailer had side doors which allowed us easy access to the crates of two-liter bottles inside.

During the day, I noticed he was a good worker, hauling out the heavy loads on a dolly from the trailer without complaint. And he remained mostly silent even when I changed the order to accommodate our inventory. Yet, his growing agitation started bothering me as the day progressed. The guy sat bolt upright in the passenger seat. His eyes remained fixated on the road while he continued tapping one foot on the floorboard. The man’s expression looked almost as desolate as the open land around us. Still, Erik appeared to be looking for something in the wide-open Montana countryside.

“Well, I’m not a very pleasant person,” he finally stated. “Mr. Smith liked to listen to his music as he drove and always kept his headphones over his ears. I’ve been riding shotgun on these delivery routes for several years. I guess I got used to the quiet.”

Erik hesitated for a moment.

“And other things…”

I grunted my acknowledgement, wondering why the guy used the title of mister for his former partner. After all, they were about the same age, and I heard they were friends. I thought Ford’s disappointment came because his friend no longer did the long hauls.

“Everybody wants to climb the corporate ladder. I heard Smithy wanted to stay home with the wife and kids more, so he took a regional manager’s job. What about you? You should have taken over this route as the driver. Let the company hire a young kid to do most of the grunt work as your partner.”

Ford went quiet at my statement, his eyes now focused on the radio in the dashboard. He stared at the display that showed the time and let out a knowing sigh.

“You seem awfully antsy, like you’re ready to explode. You can listen to the radio if it helps.” I pointed out.

Erik shook his head, brushing his long hair back out of his face. He went quiet again. After a moment, I dug further. I got a vibe he wanted to talk but was unwilling to for some reason.

“Is it something I said to you?” I asked. “You’re not mad at the company, are you?”

The thin man chuckled, then went back to staring out the window.

“Mad as in a Hatter, maybe.” A smile crept to his lips as he seemed to decide.

“Alright, I’ll tell you a bit about myself. This is my twelfth job since dropping out of college. I’m single and I can’t find a girl. No, it’s more like I don’t want the responsibility of having a girlfriend, definitely not now. Oh, yeah, and I’ll be thirty at midnight — the big three-o.”

I glanced over with a bemused grin.

“Well, that’s a start,” I said. “Congratulations on the birthday.”

The passenger nodded, then frowned.

“Oh, it’s not a celebration day. I tried to kill myself last night, so I didn’t have to face my thirtieth birthday.”

Obviously, I turned my head to him at his statement.

“You didn’t! That’s just — well.”

“Say, get your eyes back on the road!” Erik ordered while I stared at him in shock from his statement.