Amber by Dan-Dwayne Spencer (e book reader .TXT) 📕

are going to get to it first—you get behind me and Flower.” Stoney’s face in the mirror appeared stern and matter-of-fact. “Did all of you hear? Get behind me and Flower.”

No one answered him. Stoney probably didn’t want the deaths of some half-witted teenagers on his conscience. He would rather take whatever blow came our way than let us take the brunt of it. In a way, it made me feel wanted. To think someone even considered protecting me at the cost of his own life made me feel a kinship—like a family.

Jimmy’s anger subsided and brooding replaced his outbursts. “Imagine, if we hadn’t stopped at the truck stop when we did, then none of this would have happened. We would be on our way to the rock concert and Rose would be safe and sound. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have stopped there. I could have waited to get gas someplace inside Joplin city limits, but no.” His voice took on a melancholy tone as he looked out the window. “I put us in the middle of all this crap.”

His heavy mood felt contagious. For no reason, a depression hung over me like a dark cloud. “No, you didn’t. Fate took over and arranged for us to arrive at the commune when we did.” I glanced out to where he stared. As I spoke, we passed a road sign saying, Leaving Joplin City Limits. I didn’t even remember seeing the city. Stoney must have taken a trucker’s route to loop around the major parts of the urban development.

Jimmy’s words sounded dreamy. “Right now, we would be sitting on a green hillside listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young with a group of hippie chicks braiding flowers in their hair.”

“What a beautiful drive this is,” Flower commented. “The edges of the road are all trimmed and the hillsides are covered with wildflowers.”

I looked for myself; she was right; tiny periwinkle-blue flowers, Texas Bluebonnets—my favorite—covered the sides of the road back as far as the fence line. An alarm went off in my brain. Bluebonnets in Missouri in August. They are native to Texas and only bloom in spring. I looked again. The sight of them was so pleasant. It calmed my fears and the DEFCOM siren went silent.

Jimmy added, “From Joplin, we would have gone up through Chicago and from there on across to New York State.”

I breathed in sharply. The heavy fragrance of lilac filled my senses, and I exhaled a melancholy sigh. “It was a good plan.” I fidgeted with the fringe on the vest. “You’re right, it would have been wonderful.”

Roger also got a dreamy look to his eyes and replied, “Yeah, and we would have joined all those wonderful hippies. I wonder if they had drugs or if they’re hippies like Flower and Stoney.”

We topped a hill and from the elevated vantage point, we could see the winding road ahead leading to a distant cityscape.

“Is that Blue Eye?” I asked.

Stoney scratched his head. “No. Blue Eye has a population of less than two hundred. It’s a metropolis.” He yawned. “There’s absolutely nothing in Blue Eye but a library, a few shops, there’s an old post office, a park, maybe a couple of gas stations, and a cemetery. Nothing to write home about.”

“Don’t mention home.” My dreadful remorse made me shudder. “It’s the last thing I want to think about.”

We flew by a road sign. Stoney must have been driving 120 miles per hour. I barely read it, but from what I could tell it said something like, Plainfield City Limits. Behind that one, another whizzed by. This one had a mile count to cities ahead, but all I could read was Chicago - 55 miles. He exited onto a freeway heading east. Probably to turn around. I couldn’t figure out how he got so far so quickly.

“Flower, we’re lost,” I exclaimed through my overwhelming desire to forget about the quest and return to being plain old Arland—the boy who never grew up.

Chapter Twenty

Woodstock

“We are not lost. Stoney knows the way,” Flower replied, leaning her head against the side window and closing her eyes.

I mumbled, “Yep, we’re lost.” I ducked my head and sat quietly, waiting for us to get back onto the road we came in on. Stoney made several breakneck turns going either east or north. Time didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. My melancholy morphed into apathy. Finally, a sign blurred by, and I could have sworn it said: Welcome to the Great State of New York.

I glanced around, and to my surprise, only Stoney and I were awake. The others were sleeping as if we’d been traveling for hours on end. I leaned forward and started to ask why he was so far off course when the congested traffic brought us to a standstill. He weaved through two lanes of the standstill traffic to pull onto the grassy roadside where dozens of cars were parked. He threw the stick shift into neutral and pulled on the parking brake before loudly calling out, “We’re here. All out.”

Piling out of the van, we stood on the roadside, stretching and breathing in the country air. It felt different from Kansas air and held the slightest tinge of salt. The day was bright and sunny. Just as it had been in Texas the day we left on this journey. We weren’t anywhere near Blue Eye, Missouri, but for the oddest reason, it didn’t matter. I felt we were right where we were supposed to be.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. I jerked my head to see if it was Mr. Dark, but the impression I got was far bigger than I’d ever seen him take before. Perhaps he had grown. The dark form slid off the back of the van and ran through the turf, parting tall