//creative//
Fall 2020
Fall 2020
Up the Road and Down in Virginia
Sara Rosin
“I’m so fucking bored here, Anne.”
“I know you are Jack, you’ve said it already around forty times. What do you want me to do?”
It was just past 9am and they had been on the road for an hour before their car broke down on a two-lane highway in Lexington, Virginia.
“Can’t you call Triple-A?”
“We don’t have Triple-A, Jack.”
“Why wouldn’t we get Triple-A? Isn’t that like the most basic thing to get?”
“I don’t even know how to answer that.”
“I didn’t ask you anything.”
“Yes you did, you just said—I mean, asked, ‘what idiots don’t get Triple-A, isn’t it the most important thing ever to have? Blah blah blah.’” Anne imitated Jack’s voice as if he were dumb or a child with a very deep voice. The sun was everywhere and they sat in the small shadow the car provided, their shirts matted against the sweat of their backs, the jagged surface of the gravel imprinting the backs of their thighs. They’d been married for a year.
“It was obviously a statement I wasn’t asking you to answer. I was saying we should fucking have Triple-A because now we’re stuck in fucking Virginia and I fucking hate Virginia.”
“That wasn’t obviously a statement and you’ve never even been to Virginia. I love Virginia”
“Are you kidding? You’ve never been to Virginia either.”
“I was born here, Jack.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, not bullshit. My parents were on their way to Florida and I was born early in a hospital here.”
“Why would they go to Florida when she was about to have a baby? That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know, they wanted to have me in Florida.”
“Your parents are fucking crazy.”
“No, they’re not, my mom wanted to recover by the beach, it makes perfect sense.”
“Her doctor let her road trip at nine months pregnant? I don’t think so, doesn’t make sense. And that also doesn’t count as you having been to Virginia, we’re obviously not speaking about technicalities that you have been in Virginia in your life. That’s like me flying over Virginia and saying I have enough experience to decide if I love or hate Virginia.”
“Okay, first of all, stop saying obviously, and, second, no it’s not. Maybe I haven’t been to Virginia, but I definitely have more of a right to love it or hate it than you do. I feel like anyone would agree with me on that. And stop saying my mom’s a liar, it’s weird that you think she’d lie about that.”
“I did not call your mom a liar, that’s crazy to put words in my mouth like that.”
“You’re basically implying that you think she lied to me about being born in Virginia.”
“No, I said your parents are crazy. They would do weird shit like that.”
“Maybe we should go to Florida to have our baby.”
“What baby?”
“When we have kids.” Anne said. She grabbed Jack’s hand. It was a very hot day, but his hand was much hotter than she expected. “Jack, you’re boiling. And why are you hesitating about the kids thing? Do you not want kids anymore?”
“I feel kind of shitty.” Jack groaned.
“Oh my god, you don’t want kids.”
“Anne, I want kids.”
Anne touched his forehead with the back of her hand.
“You’re warm. Do you feel sick?”
“I just said I feel shitty.”
“Okay, lie down on my lap.”
He rested on her lap for the next twenty minutes. The daylight grew in power and range, and beads of sweat trickled down his face and onto her shorts. She stared ahead, but let her fingers drift back and forth over his hair. Three cars passed and their heads turned to look at them, but only the fourth car, a blue Honda, stopped.
“Are you folks alright?” Anne watched an overweight man step out of the car.
“Oh, he just started feeling sick, but our car’s actually broken.”
“Broken?” The man said.
“Yeah, and he’s running a high fever.”
“I have some wires in my car, I can help you guys out.”
Anne thanked the man, likely for longer than she needed to, and they jump started the car. Jack had moved over to the grass for this event, lying down on his side with his head resting against the soft side of his arm. He flinched when passing cars sent a wind over him.
“He doesn’t look too good. Are you guys gonna be okay?”
Anne felt Jack’s forehead. His temperature had risen.
“I think I’ll call someone. Thank you so much for your help, Scott.” The man’s name was Scott.
Scott helped Anne get Jack into the car. Jack’s body was almost limp. Anne began to drive.
“It’s okay honey, I know you want to have kids. And you’re gonna get to see where I was born. I mean, I think I was born here.”
He didn’t answer her.
Jack stayed there three nights, in the hospital where Anne thought she was born. Afterwards, they turned around and went back to their home in Maine, instead of down to Miami like they had planned. Jack didn’t drive any part of the trip back and wouldn’t be driving anytime soon. Anne’s mom told her later that year that, actually, Anne wasn’t really born in Virginia and claimed that she had never told Anne such a thing.
//SARA ROSIN is a sophomore in Barnard College and Creative Editor at The Current. She can be reached at [email protected].
“I know you are Jack, you’ve said it already around forty times. What do you want me to do?”
It was just past 9am and they had been on the road for an hour before their car broke down on a two-lane highway in Lexington, Virginia.
“Can’t you call Triple-A?”
“We don’t have Triple-A, Jack.”
“Why wouldn’t we get Triple-A? Isn’t that like the most basic thing to get?”
“I don’t even know how to answer that.”
“I didn’t ask you anything.”
“Yes you did, you just said—I mean, asked, ‘what idiots don’t get Triple-A, isn’t it the most important thing ever to have? Blah blah blah.’” Anne imitated Jack’s voice as if he were dumb or a child with a very deep voice. The sun was everywhere and they sat in the small shadow the car provided, their shirts matted against the sweat of their backs, the jagged surface of the gravel imprinting the backs of their thighs. They’d been married for a year.
“It was obviously a statement I wasn’t asking you to answer. I was saying we should fucking have Triple-A because now we’re stuck in fucking Virginia and I fucking hate Virginia.”
“That wasn’t obviously a statement and you’ve never even been to Virginia. I love Virginia”
“Are you kidding? You’ve never been to Virginia either.”
“I was born here, Jack.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, not bullshit. My parents were on their way to Florida and I was born early in a hospital here.”
“Why would they go to Florida when she was about to have a baby? That makes no sense.”
“I don’t know, they wanted to have me in Florida.”
“Your parents are fucking crazy.”
“No, they’re not, my mom wanted to recover by the beach, it makes perfect sense.”
“Her doctor let her road trip at nine months pregnant? I don’t think so, doesn’t make sense. And that also doesn’t count as you having been to Virginia, we’re obviously not speaking about technicalities that you have been in Virginia in your life. That’s like me flying over Virginia and saying I have enough experience to decide if I love or hate Virginia.”
“Okay, first of all, stop saying obviously, and, second, no it’s not. Maybe I haven’t been to Virginia, but I definitely have more of a right to love it or hate it than you do. I feel like anyone would agree with me on that. And stop saying my mom’s a liar, it’s weird that you think she’d lie about that.”
“I did not call your mom a liar, that’s crazy to put words in my mouth like that.”
“You’re basically implying that you think she lied to me about being born in Virginia.”
“No, I said your parents are crazy. They would do weird shit like that.”
“Maybe we should go to Florida to have our baby.”
“What baby?”
“When we have kids.” Anne said. She grabbed Jack’s hand. It was a very hot day, but his hand was much hotter than she expected. “Jack, you’re boiling. And why are you hesitating about the kids thing? Do you not want kids anymore?”
“I feel kind of shitty.” Jack groaned.
“Oh my god, you don’t want kids.”
“Anne, I want kids.”
Anne touched his forehead with the back of her hand.
“You’re warm. Do you feel sick?”
“I just said I feel shitty.”
“Okay, lie down on my lap.”
He rested on her lap for the next twenty minutes. The daylight grew in power and range, and beads of sweat trickled down his face and onto her shorts. She stared ahead, but let her fingers drift back and forth over his hair. Three cars passed and their heads turned to look at them, but only the fourth car, a blue Honda, stopped.
“Are you folks alright?” Anne watched an overweight man step out of the car.
“Oh, he just started feeling sick, but our car’s actually broken.”
“Broken?” The man said.
“Yeah, and he’s running a high fever.”
“I have some wires in my car, I can help you guys out.”
Anne thanked the man, likely for longer than she needed to, and they jump started the car. Jack had moved over to the grass for this event, lying down on his side with his head resting against the soft side of his arm. He flinched when passing cars sent a wind over him.
“He doesn’t look too good. Are you guys gonna be okay?”
Anne felt Jack’s forehead. His temperature had risen.
“I think I’ll call someone. Thank you so much for your help, Scott.” The man’s name was Scott.
Scott helped Anne get Jack into the car. Jack’s body was almost limp. Anne began to drive.
“It’s okay honey, I know you want to have kids. And you’re gonna get to see where I was born. I mean, I think I was born here.”
He didn’t answer her.
Jack stayed there three nights, in the hospital where Anne thought she was born. Afterwards, they turned around and went back to their home in Maine, instead of down to Miami like they had planned. Jack didn’t drive any part of the trip back and wouldn’t be driving anytime soon. Anne’s mom told her later that year that, actually, Anne wasn’t really born in Virginia and claimed that she had never told Anne such a thing.
//SARA ROSIN is a sophomore in Barnard College and Creative Editor at The Current. She can be reached at [email protected].