A Moonlight Drive

By Kathy Luder

The parking lot of Lacey’s Bar and Grill had only one car in the parking lot. The orange Camaro was sitting perfectly between the lines, just outside the circle of light that shone down from the halogen lamp. Its driver’s side door was open and the dome light on. A man was leaning back against the open door and a quiet splashing sound filled the air. Then, the man grunted, flinched, and spun around, falling into the car behind the steering wheel, his feet still on the gravel. He sat there for a moment without a sound or movement. Then, he slowly leaned forward until his head was between his knees. Sounds of coughing and gagging could be heard. It was followed by more splashing noises then by silence. Finally, he swung his feet inside and slammed the door. The car roared to life, and the windows shook with the heavy bass of rap music blaring inside. The car’s headlights showed a parking lot covered with loose fast food wrappers and beer bottles. The car tore out of the lot and headed toward the interstate.

Kathy bounced to the music, and her hands slapped the steering wheel heavily. Her face was flushed as she sang along with the lyrics and sped down the highway.

Molly reached over from the passenger side and turned the music down. She said, “I don’t know how you can stand this music.”

“You have to give it a chance,” Kathy said. “Eminem grows on you.”

“He’s gross. Do you hear what he’s saying?” Molly asked.

“Yeah,” Kathy said in a sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes. “Do you? He’s a genius. I know. He’s vulgar. But he’s also poetic. You can’t deny it.” She reached over to turn the music up again.

“You need to slow down.We’re going almost 80 miles an hour!” Molly squealed, reaching over again to turn down the music.

“Oops,” said Kathy, taking her foot off the pedal. “I can’t help it. This music moves me. I can’t keep still. I love driving to it.” Traffic was light, but one car was coming up behind her. “Is that a cop back there?” Kathy asked.

“Just slow down, and it won’t matter,” Molly shrugged. “Anyway, I think you’ve lost your mind. There is a certain power in speaking unspeakable things, but that is mainly just sensationalism. Just because it rhymes doesn’t make it poetry.”

“Have you ever got off the highway in Gary, Molly? It’s dirty there. Dangerous. Sad. Eminem didn’t come from Middleville like us. You should have a little compassion. The amazing thing is that in the midst of that criminal existence, forsaken by the police, he falls in love, he gets hurt, he has hopes and aspirations,” Kathy said. She looked at the speedometer and tapped the brake. For a brief moment, the needle had gone over the number 80. “That car behind us is getting close. The lights look too low to be a cop.”

Molly twisted in her seat. “You’re safe. It’s orange. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen an orange cop car.”

“I really like the music, Molly. It speaks to me. It takes me places I’ve never been before. It runs through an incredible emotional gamut, righteous anger over the inequities and injustices of the world, sadnesses and hope, and even love,” Kathy went on.

Molly folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window. “Whatever. But you need to slow down. You’re freaking me out.”

“Sorry,” said Kathy. She took her foot off the gas.

Molly said softly, “I really think you like it just because Brad gave it to you.”

“No! That is not it. I like the music. Okay? Why can’t you just let it go?” Kathy asked through clenched teeth.

“Let it go?” Molly asked, putting her hands on the side of her head. “It’s not even legal. He didn’t buy you a CD. He gave you an illegal copy.”

“Oh, come on. It didn’t hurt anybody. What was I supposed to say to him? Something like, ‘Sorry, Brad, but Christian girls don’t listen to illegal music,’” Kathy said in a sing-song voice.

“Why not?” Molly said. “You could also add, ‘Stop trying to corrupt me.’ Or maybe even, ‘Quit looking at my chest and ogling me behind my back.’”

Kathy sighed, her teeth clenched again. “He’s not trying to corrupt me. It’s just flirting. It’s a game. I don’t know what is wrong with you.”

Molly went on,“Or how about, ‘Christian girls don’t listen to songs about adultery, prostitution, drug use, killing cops, and...’”

“Oh, just shut up already!” Kathy said, her face bright red, as she clenched the steering wheel. “I’m so sick of this. It’s no big deal. They’re just songs, and I happen to like them!” She reached over and turned the music up as loud as it would go.

Molly wiped the corner of her eyes and whispered, “Please just slow down.”

The needle was now past 90. The orange Camaro had stayed right with her in her increase, too close for comfort. Kathy took her foot off the gas and tapped the brake just as Molly reached over to turn the music down. Instead of slowing down, the Camaro swerved violently into the passing lane, missing their back bumper by only a few inches. His music was so loud the bass notes shook their windows and the air blast forced them into the gravel on the side of the road. Kathy tried to pull back into her lane but pulled too far and bumped the speeding Camaro. Kathy and Molly spun around while Kathy pumped the brake. Suddenly, they were traveling backwards down the highway, but they were going straight and the Camaro was past them. Then, the Camaro, a few seconds too late, slammed on his brakes. Kathy’s car hit his back end, and then Kathy and Molly were in the air, upside down, when the air bags went off.

Kathy awoke in the hospital to find Molly, her mom, and her dad, standing over her. Her mom and Molly started crying. Her dad was busy rubbing her arm and saying that she wasn’t really hurt other than a mild concussion and some bruises and cuts. Then, her dad started crying and went to the bathroom to get some tissues.

Kathy asked,“What happened to the other driver?”

“He puked on himself and wet himself,” said Molly. “But he was fine. Not a scratch on him. He is in jail.”

“Good,” Kathy sighed. “The cops said that your skid marks showed you were going 70 when you slammed the brakes, just inside the speed limit,” Molly said, smiling, as she wiped her eyes.

“What were you thinking when you were crashing?” Kathy’s mom asked.

“I wasn’t thinking, Mom. I was praying,” Kathy said.

“Me too,” said Molly.

“What were you praying?” she asked.

Both girls grinned and said in unison, “Lord, have mercy!”

Molly leaned down to hug Kathy. When she got close, Kathy whispered, “Get that CD out of my car, and throw it away before anybody sees it.”

Molly sighed through her tears and nodded. “I’d love to,” she said.

Kathy Luder finds more genius in M&Ms than she does in Eminem. She can be reached at kathyluder@hotmail.com.