The Great North
by W. Bledsoe
Cramped inside his four-by-four, gray-paneled office, Dieter casually squatted behind his two-by-two, gray-metal desk, snugly dreaming about the good times ahead. While the soft buzzing sound of the fluorescent light above him put his mind in a slightly sedated state, the bright sunlight, beaming through a tiny window behind him, kept him from dozing off completely.
Struggling to read his 2002 calendar from his comfortable position, he decided to shift his rear from cheek to cheek, to get a closer look. Still squinting, he added silently, Four months and twenty-two days to go, and I’ll be sitting in my sweet ride again, getting slightly teary-eyed just imagining the fun he would have. By then, winter should definitely be by-gone, he figured. Well, if not by then, shortly after the geese will have returned, he quickly reconsidered.
Surrogating his stubby fingers for a comb, he absently stroke back his shortly trimmed, curly, blond hair while casually shifting his gaze to a gray colored, narrow, plastic shelf, hung slightly above his desk, on one of the panel walls making up his meager office. And his blue eyes lid up, again, beaming with pride and delight. Several Chevy-Pinto models occupied the entire shelf. One of them an exact miniature copy of the grown-up one, he regarded so highly, and pampered as much as he could afford. Five more years and my sweet ride will qualify for collector plates, Dieter remembered being told. He also had been told that a car displaying collector plates could only be driven to and from car shows, unless, of course, one was willing to break the law and receive a fine. That risk Dieter wasn’t sure he would be willing to take when the time would come, at which he would finally have to decide.
Several models of pick-up trucks, in a variety of shades and sizes, occupied another, similar looking shelf, hung slightly below the other. Dieter slowly dragged himself up from his medium sized, gray-textured chair, lifted up his heels and tip-toed, reached for one shiny, forest-green pick-up truck.
“These dog-on rascals, why can’t they leave them alone?” he grumbled lowly, just imagining a certain "someone" touching his priced possessions. Carefully repositioning the displaced truck, he stubbornly refused to acknowledge his trucks had already lost their purchase value, the minute he'd stepped out of the stores, from which they were bought.
Having successfully completed his small feat, he proudly leaned back in his chair again, admiring his, now perfectly aligned, models of Pintos and trucks, when by mere chance, Dieter caught a climbs of the window beside him.
“By golly!” he burst out loud from share terror.
Shockingly enough, the bright blue sky with its
fluffy white clouds had suddenly turned gray while the clouds within had become
dark and heavy. Obvious signs of stormy
and possibly icy weather to come.
Damn, it’s going to take forever before I get home today; Dieter frowned, thinking about the sure possibility. Traffic slows down tremendously even if just a few rain drops will fall -- Dieter would have bet money on that. Well, it’ll be worse when it snows; he reminded himself, and his thoughts, again, wandered to his favorite destination.
Never having been there, Dieter couldn't give anyone the exact location, but little did it matter. Anyone who cared to listen, would often hear him talk about a place, located “way ”up North, where he would finally feel like he belonged, and that soon he would be calling it his home.
Although Dieter’s imagination normally could carry him away from his workplace quiet some time, this time he quickly came back to reality, as his surroundings had become much darker, and he felt it was high time, Jenny, his favorite co-worker, was alerted of the upcoming danger. Something they both would have to face, when their work-day would finally come to an end.
“Its’ going to be a long ride home for you today,” Dieter raised his voice and neck slightly, so he could be heard by his co-worker, Jenny, sitting behind him, inside her own four panel-walls.
Jenny snickered softly, careful not to let Dieter take notice. Using her long, slender fingers, she gently brushed back her shiny-black, straight hair, flipped up her heels, and wiggled her toes with delight, before replying ever so sweetly.
“What makes you say that?” darn well knowing what the answer would be.
First, Dieter would forecast dreadful weather -- thus the long ride home. Then he would give her advice or lectures on which roads to take on account of his forecast, and most certainly, he would end his lecture with telling her to use extreme caution.
Lucky for Jenny, Dieter and her had one thing in common -- they both lived up North. Though Jenny had one thing above him in that department. Jenny lived where Dieter really wanted to reside. Jenny lived “way” up North, while Dieter only lived a few miles North of the big city, where they both had to make a living.
Only Dieter really could know how much he envied
Jenny for living way up North, but Jenny imagined it was quite often. It was quite obvious to her, that Dieter
hated this big awful city, as much as his fragile heart would allow him.
“This highly educated, overly populated,
highly cultured, fast-paced city offers me nothing more than just a half-way
decent paying job,” Jenny remembered Dieter declaring, shortly after they had
met. Most certainly, Dieter’s disgust for the dreadful city was to blame for
his never-ending stories about the "good" life, "way" up North.
It was a mere educated guess of Jenny, but it was quite possible, Dieter had learned all about the best roads in-or-out of the big dreadful city, shortly after being hired to work there. “Highly dependent on the weather, one will either have to endure or enjoy the ride.” Dieter had declared shortly thereafter. And in no time flat, Dieter had selected a special route for stormy rainy days, another for those snowy slippery days, and yet another for beautiful sunny days, when Dieter could drive as fast as the speed limit allowed him.
Shortly after learning of Jenny’s home location,
Dieter had made sure Jenny also was well informed about the best ways to
travel in or out the city, and in any type of weather situation. “Driving from work,” Dieter had exclaimed,
“you’re better off taking I-96 during stormy or icy days.” Had the clouds stayed white and fluffy, Jenny
would have been able to use Highway 305, as according to Dieter, “Highway 305
was considerably faster during sunny days!”
There had been days, when Jenny had cursed herself for giving Dieter’s
forecasts too much consideration. One
day, she had ended up in a ditch on one of those alternate roads Dieter had so
highly recommended for snowy, early morning drives. One other time, she had found herself
trapped by rising water, after she had decided to forgo the free-way, since Dieter had
always lectured, “free-ways should definitely be avoided during stormy rain
falling days!”
Regardless, Jenny often followed Dieter’s “best roads” advice, and today she would be using I-96 to get home in a fast way. After all, she’d reassured herself, half the time Dieter’s predictions had been correct....(please contact the editor for the complete story).
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