Cole pauses before speaking, letting the question float from the air. It’s another trap. Nothing more than obvious bait, meant to make him fly off the handle.

  “You could have mentioned you were sending me to meet a blind black girl.”

  “I didn’t know I was.” Maxwell shrugs and takes another hit from the bottle, his third heavy swig in as many minutes. “So you screwed up another one. Why am I not surprised?”

  This time, the opening is too much for Cole to pass up.

  “I don’t know. Probably for the same reason I’m not surprised you’ll have that bottle gone by the time we’re done here.”

  Cole shifts his gaze from the sunset to his father, not wanting to miss what happens next.

  For the second time in as many days, the old man doesn’t disappoint.

  A flash of anger rolls across Maxwell’s features, his gaze lingering on Cole, eyes burning bright, before shifting down to the bottle. He moves as if he’s about to take another drink before hurling it at the trunk of an oak tree just off the edge of the deck. A stream of whiskey spills out behind it, splattering against the wooden planks as it travels, its trajectory ending in a violent explosion.

  The bottle smashes flush against the tree, shards of glass and the remaining booze erupting in all directions.

  “Surprised now?” Maxwell challenges, his voice almost a yell.

  Cole is careful not to react in anyway. It’s not like he’s surprised by the outburst. “Nope.”

  Maxwell’s face goes through a half-dozen expressions before he rises in a huff, his shoes stomping against the floor. He stops over Cole and raises a finger, bellowing down at him.

  “I’m not going to tell you again, this was the last time I bail your ass out of a jam. You need to get away from here for awhile.”

  Cole waits for him to finish before rotating his head at the neck and looking up at his father. His face is still impassive, knowing that complete indifference is the best way to get under the old man’s skin.

  “You done?”

  Maxwell’s face grows darker as he stands above him, finger still outstretched. He teeters there for a moment before shaking his head, turning and stomping back through the house.

  “And leave your damn phone on!”

  Cole goes back to watching the sunset, listening as his father’s steps grow quieter, the front door opens and closes. He raises his arm in a faux farewell, his middle finger extended high above the others and leaves it there until he hears the sound of an engine turning over and Maxwell’s SUV driving way, slinging gravel as it goes.

  Once it’s gone, he drops his hand back to his side and refocuses on the sunset. The smell of whiskey hangs in the air, the misshapen pattern of it across the deck fast drying under the late day sun.

  The sun continues to dip in front of him, now just a half-circle on the horizon. Cole has no reason to move, nowhere to go even if he wanted to.

  Beside him, the phone starts to ring.

  A heavy sigh escapes his lips. He picks it up without glancing at the screen, flipping it open and pressing it to his face. “I just showed you the damn thing is on.”

  There is a pause before a female asks, “Um, is this Cole?”

  The voice surprises Cole. He pulls the phone away from his face and looks at it. The number is unknown, though he has a vague idea who it is.

  “Sorry, I thought it was someone else,” he says.

  “Am I interrupting?” Ruby asks.

  Cole pushes himself a little higher in his seat, repositioning the phone against his ear. “No, I just wasn’t expecting to hear back from you.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting to call you back either.”

  Cole can tell from her tone that she still isn’t certain about what she’s doing.

  “So why are you?”

  There is a pause on the other end. Cole thinks he can hear a sigh, but can’t be sure.

  “Be my eyes.”

  The words draw a look of confusion, another glance in surprise at the phone in his hand. “What?”

  “You asked this morning what I want from you. I want you to be my eyes, to drive the car and tell me everything we see.”

  Cole pauses a moment, leans forward and lowers his feet to the ground, straddling the chair. He rests his elbows on his knees and looks down at the ratty cushion beneath him, faded and threadbare.

  “You seriously want to do this? With me?”

  This time there is no mistaking the sigh. “I want to do this. If I have to put up with you to make it happen, so be it.”

  It is the exact sentiment Cole is feeling at the moment. The idea of being in a car for two weeks with her appeals to him only a touch more than having to endure visits from his father every night.

  Still, that’s enough.

  “You realize we might kill each other.”

  Ruby doesn’t acknowledge the statement. “Is that a yes?”

  Cole raises his gaze to see the trail of whiskey across the floor, now a haphazard collection of spots. Just beyond the deck, he can see shiny bits of glass imbedded in the tree. “You won’t believe this, but I have even more reason to get out of here than you do. If I have to put up with you to make it happen, so be it.”

  There is another small pause.

  “When can you be ready?”

  “When do you want to go?”

  “Is the day after tomorrow too soon?” Ruby asks.

  Again Cole stares at the tree, smells the whiskey hanging in the air. “Tomorrow isn’t too soon.”

  “Tomorrow it is then.”

  The words surprise him, his eyebrows rising and his head rocking back a few inches. “Tomorrow it is,” Cole echoes.

  They sign off without a farewell, Cole flipping the phone shut and tossing it onto the chair between his knees. He watches as the last bit of the sun disappears beneath the horizon, orange light warm on his face.

  “Be her eyes.”

  He rises and turns back towards the house, leaving the phone and the remains of the bottle where they lay.

  “Whatever the hell that means.”

  The car has been sitting under a tarp for the better part of eight months. It is more than forty years old, but looks just as pristine as the day it rolled off the assembly line in Michigan. A 1971 Olds Cutlass, it has a convertible body with a hard top, deep burgundy red paint gleaming in the morning sun.

  The back end is propped open, Esther bent at the waist behind it, her entire upper body inside the trunk. Like an oversized game of Tetris, she arranges bags and a mini-cooler, fitting everything together just so.

  Her face is drawn tight as she works, displeasure obvious on her features.

  Ruby exits down the stairs from the kitchen and onto the concrete sidewalk, one last bag in her hands. She passes it off to Esther and waits by the trunk as it is added to the stash already stowed away.

  “Now remember, your personal bag is on the far right,” Esther says. Her voice is far away, the tone relaying that this is a conversation she would rather not have. “Snacks and bottled water are in the cooler beside it. First-aid kit is tucked in along the back wall.”

  Ruby can’t help but smile.

  A grandmother to the end, even when she hates it.

  “I got it, Memaw. Everything’s going to be alright.”

  Esther runs a hand across Ruby’s cheek, pulls it back to her hip and stares at her granddaughter. “You’re sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  The smile on Ruby’s face changes from bemused to bittersweet. “Don’t do this, not now. He’ll be here any minute.”

  Esther’s bottom lip begins to quiver, the slightest hint of a tear forming at the underside of her eyes. “I just...why? Why all this? Why now?”

  Ruby can hear the anguish belying Esther’s voice. For a moment, she is almost glad she can’t see it.

  That doesn’t stop a matching set of tears from lining her own eyes.

  “If not now, when?”

  Ruby reaches out a hand and touches her grandmother’s waist, neither one saying anything as they stand close, both sniffling. They remain there, less than a foot separating them, until the sound of boots scraping rocks pulls their attention towards the driveway.

  The sound grows closer in a persistent pattern, heavy footsteps dragging through the gravel. It is no doubt the gait of a man, a large one based on the sound of his approach.

  Cole approaches on foot from the road, a single duffel bag over his shoulder.

  Esther watches him growing closer and slides over to Ruby, putting an arm around her shoulder. She leans in close and whispers, “I just don’t like the idea of you being out there on the road all by yourself. What if something happens? What if I’m not around to help?”

  Ruby reaches up and squeezes Esther’s hand, her fingers cold despite the morning heat. “Nothing’s going to happen. Besides, I’m not alone. Everything’s going to be alright, you’ll see.”

  Ruby shifts her focus from her grandmother to the approaching sound of Cole. She smiles as the sound of his boots grows closer and says, “Good morning.”

  “Morning,” Cole replies. His voice isn’t near as gruff as their prior encounter, though it isn’t quite friendly either.

  Indifferent, at best.

  “You can put your stuff in the trunk, the left side is for you.”

  Cole offers a mumbled thanks and walks to the trunk, depositing his bag into the enormous hole left free for him. His single parcel looks tiny in the space, even more so compared to the tangle of bags wedged into the opposite side. He pretends not to notice and pushes back from the car, walking towards Esther with a hand outstretched.

  “Ma’am, Cole Dixon,” he says, jerking his head towards the trunk. “I tend to travel light.”

  There is no attempt by Esther to hide her appraising gaze. “Esther Sewell, nice to meet you.”

  Cole nods in reply.

  “Did the judge bring you out here this morning?”

  “No ma’am,” Cole responds, twisting his head to the side. “I took a bus. He had court first thing today.”

  He doesn’t wait for the conversation to continue, taking a step back and shifting his attention to Ruby. “You ready?”

  “I am.”

  Ruby turns and extends both her arms towards Esther, waiting as her grandmother slides between them. The familiar clutch envelopes her, the two embracing in a strong-armed hug.

  “You be careful,” Esther whispers into her ear, holding her close. “Don’t you hesitate to call if you have trouble, and that includes any from him.”

  There is a tight squeeze between them before Ruby pulls back, a close-lipped smile for her grandmother. “I will, I promise. And I’ll call every night too, just to check in.”

  “You’d better,” Esther says, pulling Ruby in tight for one last embrace. “Go see whatever it is you need to see, then get your butt back here to me.”

  Again Ruby releases the hug and pulls back, her eyes bloodshot with tears. She clasps Esther’s arms in her hands before stepping away, nodding as she goes.

  In unison she and Cole slide around to their respective sides of the car and climb inside. Ruby buckles herself in and waves out the window as Cole turns the engine over and slides the gear shift into drive, pulling away from the house.

  The first two miles are spent in complete silence. The air is not quite charged, but there is a certain standoffishness that is undeniable.

  Ruby is the first one to speak.

  “Thank you for being respectful to my grandmother.”

  Cole’s reply takes several moments, little more than a grunt.

  “Your father has no idea you’re here, does he?”

  Cole keeps his eyes aimed on the road, his jaw working back and forth as he pushes back the animosity already present on his face.

  “Nope.”

  The interior of the car is silent, more being said in body language than could ever be conveyed by words.

  On the driver’s side, Cole sits with his right hand draped over the steering wheel, his left shoulder planted against the door. His left hand rests alongside his mouth, his focus aimed straight ahead.

  Across from him Ruby sits with her arms folded across her chest, her right shoulder threatening to push through the door and send her careening off into the tall grass lining the freeway.

  Three hours into their journey, not a single word has been uttered since leaving Petersburg, both making it abundantly clear that conversation is not high on their list of priorities.

  Just past noon Cole glances down to see the orange arrow of the gas tank nudging its way below a quarter of a tank. He lets out a low sigh and signals to the right, pushing the car over at the next exit and into the lot of a dilapidated gas station far past its prime.

  “Is everything okay?” Ruby asks, her surprise at the loss of movement trumping any preference for silence.

  “Gas,” Cole replies, sidling up along a manual pump and putting the car into park.

  “Oh, let me give you some money,” Ruby says, reaching towards the floorboard for her purse.

  “That’s generally how it works,” Cole deadpans, extending his arms out over the steering wheel and stretching.

  Beside him Ruby shakes her head, but says nothing. She rifles through her bag until she finds an unmarked white envelope and extracts it. She opens it to reveal a large amount of cash, all in various denominations, each with its own corresponding fold.

  Fives go length-ways. Tens are in half. Twenties left whole.

  She withdraws two twenties and extends them to Cole. “Will this be enough?”

  Cole snaps the bills away without so much as glancing at her. “How the hell would I know?”

  The door makes a lurching sound as he pushes it open and heads inside to pay, not bothering to ask if she needs anything or has to use the restroom.

  While he is gone Ruby reaches across the driver’s seat, finds the trunk release and pops it open. She climbs out and walks to the rear of the car, using her hands to locate the cooler and rummage inside.

  A moment later, Cole emerges from the station and begins pumping gas beside her.

  “You need anything?” Ruby asks, pulling herself back from the depths of the Olds.

  “What?” Cole asks, jerking his head towards her voice, not expecting the question.

  Ruby motions towards the trunk. “From the cooler, would you like something?”

  A look somewhere between nausea and contempt crosses Cole’s face. “No.”

  A single nod is Ruby’s only response as she extracts an apple and a bottle of water, slamming the trunk closed and returning to her seat. Outside, Cole finishes pumping gas and climbs in, the 442 engine rumbling as he fires it up and heads back towards the freeway.

  Once more the sound of asphalt passing under tires fills the car, this time punctuated by the occasional crunch of an apple in the passenger seat. Cole lets the first couple bites pass without comment, the next two with just a sour expression.

  By the time Ruby is halfway through her snack, he is openly glaring at her.

  “Do you have to do that?”

  The apple stops an inch from Ruby’s mouth. “Do what?”

  “Crunch on that damn thing so loud.”

  Ruby makes a face and begins eating again. “It’s an apple. How would you like me to eat it?”

  “I wouldn’t,” Cole says, for the first time rolling his gaze towards her, letting it linger a moment. “I’d like it to be silent.”

  An exaggerated bite of the apple is his response, the sound much louder than even the previous ones. “Yeah, and I would like for the driver I hired to narrate to do his job, but we don’t always get what we want do we?”

  Ruby pauses, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come.

  “Where are we, anyway?”

  Cole glances over again, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Route 64, same damn road we’ll be on all day. Most of tomorrow too.”

  “I know that, I gave you the directions, remember? I mean, where on the map are we?”

  Cole rolls his eyes, pushing himself even further into the driver’s door. He debates whether or not to answer her, hoping his silence might put her at bay, but figures it will only spawn more questions.

  The last thing he wants is to draw the conversation out any more than necessary.

  “Just crossed over into West Virginia.”

  For several moments, the silence he seeks falls within the car.

  It doesn’t last long.

  “Feel free to do your job without me having to prompt you. I’m trying to eat here.”

  “Alright,” Cole says, pushing out a heavy sigh. He puts on his best mocking tone, a mix of boredom and television talk show host. “Alright passengers, here in the great state of West Virginia we’ve got all kinds of good shit to see. On our left is a cornfield. Whole damn thing is brown because it’s August and that’s what happens when it never rains.”

  He continues without looking over at Ruby’s frown, but he can sense it. It’s all he can do not to smile.

  “On the right is a cabin that looks more like a bunch of termites holding hands than actual wood. Sitting out on the porch this afternoon are Bubba, Butch, and Billy Bob, all looking dirty and obese. Lifestyles of the inbred and corn fed here today ladies and gentlemen.”

  “Alright, enough,” Ruby says, holding up a hand between them. She wraps the core of her apple in a napkin and stows it on the ground by her feet. “You’ve made your point. Even silence is better than that.”

  A small smirk tugs at the corner of Cole’s mouth. “That was the idea.”

  Fifteen minutes after stopping for gas they find themselves back in the same exact positions they were before. Cole on one side, leaning against the door, face twisted into a scowl. Ruby on the other, arms folded across her chest, face turned out towards the world passing by.

  Not a sound to be heard between them.

  West Virginia has come and gone, Kentucky now providing the backdrop for the journey. The dense forests and steep mountainsides have given way to lush meadows and rolling hills. The countryside is every bit as green as it was just a few hours before, though the shades are of a much lighter hue.