The Ice Age Read Free Page B

wouldn’t say I felt the old safety.
    The next few days’ driving was affable and chatty. One thing I probably haven’t stressed about Gunther is that he is very down to earth. For all his cultured-ness, he likes talking my crap with me. He likes hearing my silly stories. He’s got a few of his own. He’s quick with a laugh, or rather, quick with a sharp-toothed grin.
    We didn’t collect as many suspicious looks when we stopped for meals, as we passed through this latest assortment of localities. We were comfortable. Maybe it was also the fact we weren’t in the middle of the country anymore. It’s less scary-weird when you get closer to the edges. People are just more normal. You don’t feel followed by countless pairs of accusing eyes, hovering just out of sight. Walking down Main Street in Averageville Anywhere, Middle-of-the-Country is like walking through a clearing, feeling that all around you, the trees, bushes, hell…sky, are full of things itching to pounce.
    Gunther says that is the folly of a country so large, and so insular. It becomes its own planet. The parts that aren’t visited enough by outside influences repel those influences when they come across them. So they just get more and more stuck in their own strange way of being. I’m from a small town myself, but, being closer to one of the edges, I guess it was a little more idyllic.
    We were coming into the desert now, and the landscape was interesting to look at. There were still a lot of farms dotted about, so it wasn’t moonscape desert. We’d get into that later. It was good to have a change of scenery. All those strip malls and scrubby trees were starting to hurt my eyes. I’d spent half my time just watching Gunther drive: staring out ahead serenely, hypnotizing the road with those cool beams.
    I spent less time typing during the evenings that accompanied these days, and more time studying Gunther. He was so used to me now he didn’t seem to notice, or mind. But then he never seemed to mind anything. That was probably why I felt so safe with him, and why all that safety came like a rush when we first started spending all this time together. There were no sudden moves, no shifts or jolts, he was just smooth, just there. It was like being under water. I’ve made him mad by now a few times, obviously. That burst my bubble a little, but it also made him more human. We had a comfortable closeness now, definitely. But he still kept a dignified distance. Just far enough for me to contemplate him. I know we like each other’s companionship. I sometimes thought it was kind of pointless, having random make-out sessions in nowhere towns with boys I didn’t even know. There was an arbitrariness and lack of taste to these encounters. It seemed dumb to pick them over someone classy like Gunther. I couldn’t tell if it bothered him. He was pretty cool and contained, and had his own occasional encounters, so it was hard to tell. By now I had gotten a taste for the kissing, and was starting to wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

    We seem to be zig-zagging across the country. We certainly aren’t moving in a straight line. Gunther has a few friends scattered around the place. Quite a few really, for a reclusive sort. We’ve been stopping here and there to visit these various characters. You’d have to be a little out there to know Gunther. And then we stopped in other places and I didn’t know why. I get the impression it has been a while since he’s visited these people, these spots, and that’s part of why he is going out of his way. Getting to the far coast where the living is better is simply a bonus now, a minor detail. At this point I’m along for the ride.
    After several days of lazy driving and laid-back stopovers, we’ve kicked back into gear. Gunther high-tailed it all day to get to this town where his friend Murray lives. When we got there it