Unknown Road Too Late Taken
By Gilda A. Herrera
Peter Hagman had always been cautious. As a boy he’d avoided fisticuffs with bullies; he’d turned in his homework assignments promptly; he’d prepared adequately for exams. He’d graduated from a state college, now worked at a job that made him financially secure,. Not wealthy. True success or failure seemed to arrive equally to the foolhardy. He eventually married a dependable, careful woman. They had no children. Children invited risks.
He kept his focus cautiously on the road. On impulse he reached with his right hand and gently patted his wife’s knee. Patty slid her leg away from his reach. Peter felt surprise at his impulse, not at her response.
“Eyes on the road, Peter,” Patty admonished. His cell phone rang out but he ignored it. Patty would expect him to ignore the call. Besides, he knew the ring was merely a signal.
Patty stifled the impulse to chide her husband for forgetting to turn the cell off before taking the wheel. She knew Peter could get petulant at her reminders. Nagging Peter was rarely necessary. She let this one slip go by.
“Pretty scenery. Such a wonderfully sunny, cheerful day,” Peter said.
Patty didn’t react. She had no interest in nature’s beauty. Patty focused on the credit card statement in her hand. She busily checked off each charged item, comparing the figures with the receipts.
Her brow wrinkled at some charges. $500? $800? For what? Some jewelry store items. She ran through the receipts. Had Peter forgotten to give these to her? Certainly he wasn’t planning to surprise her with some needlessly expensive bracelet or ring. So unlike him. She always chose her gifts from him.
Patty glanced at Peter. Now wasn’t the time to bring this up. No point in annoying him when she knew he’d been up all night with an upset stomach. Funny to think of riling Peter. Calm, cautious, steady Peter. She couldn’t recall him ever getting upset, angry nor the other extremes of being funny or joyful. She couldn’t remember what his laugh sounded like. Peter rarely laughed.
Then as if the cosmos had eavesdropped, Peter laughed.
He chuckled twice. Patty nearly dropped the paperwork in her hand. She looked quickly out the car windows. Something humourous outside?
Peter glanced at her. “I missed the turnoff the GPS indicated. Ah, well, might be interesting to see where this unknown road leads.”
Unnerved at his lackadaisical attitude, Patty pointed out that they might arrive late for their restaurant reservation.
Peter said. “I’ll turn back at the next opportunity.”
Patty returned to her perusal of the credit card statement. But her mind lingered on the sound of Peter’s laughter. It had sounded so sweet.
Several minutes later Patty noticed they had continued down the same road. She looked out the windows. Tall pine trees, lush greenery, an occasional bird in flight. Peter had been right. It was lovely.
She almost laughed aloud as she found herself wishing they had planned a picnic instead of their usual restaurant dining. But picnics meant bugs, heat, possibly rain. So what? What had they been so fearful would happen if they became adventurous? A great need to search out other unknown roads overtook her.
Patty leaned her head against the comfortable headrest. She felt a longing for this road to never end. She felt feelings, desires she’d not felt for years. When they got to the restaurant she’d share these thoughts with Peter. Maybe it was time they changed the way they lived their lives, find shared happiness instead of this humdrum existence. She felt as if she could suddenly soar as carefree as a bird in flight. She’d overlook Peter’s unusual, extravagant spending splurge. Her recent inheritance could easily cover much more than those charges.
Peter’s phone rang out again. Peter pulled over to the side of the road, made a complete stop then slightly twisted the steering wheel, as if he were heading back, which he had no intention of doing.
He felt Patty’s hand on his upper thigh. She gave him a small smile. Warmly, she said, “we should have taken an unknown road sooner.”
Her touch, her words caused confusion to overtake Peter. It had been so long since they’d shared any intimacy.
The shot rang out smashing the passenger-side window, burning into Patty’s neck. She fell into his arms, died instantly.
***
“So you’d taken a wrong turn?” the officer asked Peter.
Peter sweated profusely. “Yes, I’m not familiar with this area. I’d pulled over to head back.”
“Rifle shot,” another officer said. “Hunting season started last week. Probably some careless hunter aimed in the direction of the road. Accidents happen.”
He shook his head sadly at Peter. “You were just on the wrong road, at the wrong time. Your wife probably felt no pain.”
Peter sat by the side of the road as they waited for the other emergency vehicles to arrive.
His cell phone rang out. This time he answered. “Yes,” he said, still shaken. “Yes, sweetheart, it went as planned. I’m all right. What?”
“I know I promised to call you as soon as it was over,” Peter said impatiently. “Later, Maddie.” He hung up abruptly.
Peter stood. He walked to his damaged vehicle. In spite of the violence done to her, Patty looked peaceful. He felt a stirring of regret.
A bird flew overhead and landed on the car roof. Startled by it’s fluttering, Peter stepped away from the car and straight into the path of an oncoming vehicle.
The impact threw him into the air. Peter landed on his head, died instantly.
The motorist stopped as the officers rushed to him.
“He walked right into my path,” the man said, shock in his voice.
“We saw what happened. Not your fault. He was distraught, didn’t pay attention to the traffic.”
The motorist shook his head. “I never come this way. This roadway is unfamiliar. It seemed such a lovely, scenic route.”
Gilda A. Herrera, a former journalist, writes fiction for all ages. A graduate of the School of Communications she earned her Bachelors in Journalism from the University of Texas (Austin). Her work has appeared in Twilight Times, Beyond Centauri, Stories that Lift, Stories for Children Magazine, Orion’s Child.
