Being in the car, Ruby’s trailer bumping along behind us, was such a familiar feeling that I almost felt like things were normal. But Morv sat with hunched shoulders like a huge shriveled bird, and I was in the driver’s seat without Mom quietly correcting me even when I knew my driving was not quite right. Even when I knew that probably, my eyes weren’t even good enough to drive, anyway. Realizing this, and also remembering that Morv’s eyes were superhumanly good, I asked as nonchalantly as I could: “Would you mind letting me know—if it looks like—by any chance—that I’m about to hit something?”
“Hm,” Morv said.
“Including from behind?” I added quickly.
“Hm.”
“And the sides?”
Morv reached over and pulled off my glasses.
“WOAH!” I shouted. I swerved on instinct, or out of terror, and thank God I knew there was no one on the road, because I couldn’t see anything and my hands trembled just to keep the wheel still.
“What are you doing?” Morv snapped. “Keep driving.”
“I can’t see!” I said, my voice shrill. “Give me back my glasses!” I released one hand from the wheel, holding it out.
“I don’t believe you can’t really see.”
“Well, this isnotthe time to test me!” I said, my voice somehow even higher and squeakier.
“Just look ahead,” Morv said, seemingly unconcerned that the car was being driven by an essentially blind driver who was just trying to keep straight without any clue as to whether we were even still on the road beyond the fact that the road’s textureseemedunchanged.
“Please!” I said again, hoping the desperation in my voice was as obvious to Morv as it was to me. “We can play this game some other time! I’m going to get pulled over for drunk driving!” I squinted, trying to make out the shapes ahead of me. Was one of them a car? It could definitely be a car.
Worst of all, though, no matter what it was, I couldn’t quite tell exactlywhereit was. It moved slowly left-to-right like the profile of a child on a swing, sadly and sleepily pushing themself back and forth, back and forth…
“Just unfocus your eyes,” Morv said. “Stopsquinting.”
I was desperate enough that I tried. I let my gaze relax even as my hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. Still the shapes in front of me swayed. Still the distinction between the road and its border were completely unclear, even the lines—
The large something zipped past, far too close to us, but it gave me a sense of where the double yellow line must be. I pulled off to the right, slowing down, and felt the texture of the road change beneath us. I parked the car.
I turned to Morv, who, being so close to me, looked quite clear, even though I saw their face as two, my eyes working independently. But it was just like when we’d talked in the dark in the bathroom at Lowe’s: I didn’t need to see them to glare at them.
“I’m going to kill you,” I said.
“I’d just like to see you try.”
“It would be easy,” I spat. “All I’d have to do is get back on the road. I’d get us into a crash in no time. I thoughtyouwere supposed to keepmesafe! Instead you’re setting me up to die!”
Morv didn’t look even a little bit abashed. “I thought the energy of the moment might get you to start thinking differently.”
“What does that evenmean? What if I’d had a panic attack? What if I’d passed out from fear?” I knew I was getting a little dramatic, but Morv’s completely unconcerned expression was beginning to make me mad.
“I would’ve driven the car. It would’ve been fine.”
“I thought you can’t drive.”
“I’m not stupid. I could figure it out.”
“You’re not stupid, you’re just arrogant. Driving isnoteasy.”
“I have other skills you don’t know about.”
I crossed my arms. “Care to share, before you get me into another life-threatening situation? Or care to give me my glasses back?”
Morv slowly handed over my glasses, and then reached under their seat, pulling out the jar of rubies. “Have one.”
“Why?”
“It’ll help.”
“With what?”
“Your eyes. And your fear.”
“Myfear?”
“And when you’re not driving, I want you to keep your glasses off. Understand? Your eyes need to start working for themselves.”
I took the ruby and swallowed it. Even though every fiber of my body wanted to slap Morv and not listen to another word they said, I also, on some level I didn’t want to admit, trusted them. I actually trusted them a lot. I was embarrassed to admit it, even to myself, but it was true. Even after what had just happened.
Maybe it was because I had no else left to trust.
And then I remembered why I’d picked Disney World as our populated destination—after all, Coney Island was way closer and still had plenty of people. And wasn’t there a Six Flags in New Jersey?
But I had another reason for wanting to go to Florida—to gobackto Florida. To drive over a thousand miles.
Lola. I had no one left but Lola.
I felt the ruby sliding down my throat. I felt warm inside, like a small spark had been lit, flashed, and then died within me.
Morv handed me my glasses. With as much contempt as I could communicate, I cleaned them with the hem of my hoodie and placed them on my face.
Then I reached into the glovebox and pulled out my east coast map—Mom and I had one map per region of the US, plus maps for each state. Sometimes they were out of date and we ended up on roads that were no longer roads, but they usually got the job done. And anyway, we weren’t ever really going to such specific places, at least not on our long drives. We were always just gettingaway. From what exactly, I had never really wondered.
Now I wondered.
I felt Morv’s eyes on my neck as I searched the map, finally locating the US 1, and figuring out how I could get there from Schenectady. I’d have to get to northern New Jersey to merge onto it; then I could follow it all the way down and not need to check a map again until we were a few miles off from the town Lola—I hoped—still lived in.
And then maybe we could park at her house for the night. And her parents would cook us dinner. And we could go to Disney World the next day but come back every night to her house.
I wondered if that was really possible. I had to believe it was.
Once again I felt as though I either had nothing or everything to lose.
Morv said nothing as I folded up the maps, tucked them back in the glove-box, and pulled back out onto the road. I found my hands still shaking on the wheel, but at least I could now see.
For the next half hour we were completely silent. And then I said, “Are you testing me? Is this a test?”
I saw Morv frowning in the rearview mirror. “No. Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to think ofsome reasonwhy you’d—do that.”
“It’s just as I told you. I thought it would—snap your vision to normal. You know. The life-or-death motivation. I have no reason to lie to you.”
“Yeah. And I have no reason to trust you.”
“But you do.”
I didn’t reply.
“The life-or-death motivation is a proven theory. I learned it from one of my parents.”
“Who learned it from… a psychology journal?”
“No. Oral literature. Like everything else.”
“Just a story someone told?”
“You know that’s not what oral literature is.”
“I don’t know about that. Doesn’t sound… peer-reviewed.”
“Of course it is. You say it aloud and everyone debates it real-time. And it’s so easy to update with a retelling, once you’ve gotten new information.”
“And how do you know someone doesn’t update it falsely?”
“Same goes for written literature. There’s no difference.”
“Of course there is. You could mess it up by accident. Mistake of memory.”
“We’re dragons.”
“I know we’re dragons, thank you very much.”
“Tell me. Have you ever forgotten a single story your mother has ever told you?”
“How did you know my mother tells me stories?”
“All dragons tell their children stories.”
“Well, the answer is yes. Of course I’ve forgotten things.”
“What have you forgotten?”
“Well, sometimes I wasn’t even paying attention when she told me stories.”
“That’s a different problem. Let’s say you were paying attention. Is there anything you could’ve possibly forgotten?”
“Yes,” I said. “There’s a story my mother told me where I think there must be an ending but I can’t recall it.”
“Tell me the story.”
I took a deep breath.
“In a city without a name, there was a dragon without a face. He wasn’t liked by the other dragons, but only because he didn’t have a face. It was like—”
Morv interrupted me. “—his nose and his mouth were one.”
I glanced at them in surprise, before quickly turning my eyes back on the road. “How did you know that?”
“It’s a classic. My parents told me it too.”
“Butthe exact words my mother said—”
“It’s not justherstory. It’sourstory.”
I couldn’t think how else to prove that statement other than continue, even though I didn’t want to. “He didn’t have eyes. He navigated via smell—he had a really good sense of smell. But for a dragon, he was still clumsy. Dragons are graceful. This dragon was not.” I paused, waiting for Morv to continue.
“But for what he lacked in grace, he made up for in kindness. He was the kind of dragon who did things for other dragons. He found flying easier than walking, like most dragons, but for him walking was such a struggle that flying seemed glorious. He would fly around and find things for other dragons, like things they had lost, or things which had been stolen from them. He would return these things to their rightful owners.” Morv paused. “Do you believe me now?”
I continued in a rush; once having begun, I knew we couldn’t stop. “For this he was well-liked—no, he wasessentialto the dragon community. He was willing—”
Morv cut me off. “—to go places other dragons would not dare. He had a sense of justice. Other dragons thought smilingly of him. They relied on him. They called upon him when they needed him, whether it was his grace in the sky or the grace in his heart.”
Feeling numb, I continued. “But this dragon was not loved. And it was because he was hard to look at. It is hard to love someone whom it is hard to look at. Dragons would see him and want to look away. His voice was also hard to listen to, because it sounded strange to the dragons, closer to a human voice than a dragon voice. There was nothing the dragon could do about his voice.” I stopped, taking a breath. “That’s it. That’s all I remember. After that it’s just a blank.”
“It’s not.”
“It’s not ended?”
“No, it’s not a blank. That’s the end of the story. There’s nothing else to it.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“There’s no moral?”
Sometimes it’s just life.”
That last comment annoyed me; wasn’t I alive? Didn’t I live a life strange enough, and at times hard enough, to constitutereal life? Especially for a fifteen-year-old, Morv acted like they wereoldold. And it had only taken five days for this to annoy me.
“So, do you believe me now?” Morv asked. “That dragon memory, and oral literature, are real and essential andprofoundly important to our culture and its historical resonance?”
“Yeah, you didn’t make that up.”
Morv frowned. “I didn’t say I did.”
“Parrot.” I stuck my tongue out at them.
Morv turned away from me.
Five days and I wanted to kill them.
And now we were driving to Florida.
I had to keep Lola front and center in my mind; otherwise I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do it.
“What are you thinking about now?” Morv asked sharply. “You started smiling. It makes me nervous.”
“None of your business.” I reached out and turned on the radio. “We need music.”