[Dawn]
With Aldo having stayed late into the night with Reggie to work on the van, we’re back on the road early the next morning. I can see how tired he is from the bags under his eyes, but he still insists on driving.
I turn the radio up because it’s a bouncy tune, hoping it’ll cheer him up as we get under way. He smiles, but still yawns.
“Why did you sleep on the floor?” I ask, patting his arm and yawning myself.
Aldo shrugs, not giving anything away with another small smile. I try to shrug it off, but a part of me wonders is it something I did? Is it something between us? Was this all another fling?
I know I’m being crazy. Or I hope…
We’re way out of South Carolina by the time Aldo fully wakes up. We’ve had two coffee breaks and a second breakfast. The food has helped me calm my paranoia somewhat, but now I’m on edge because Aldo is on edge. He’s been watching our mirrors like a hawk.
“So you didn’t notice the car?” he asks again.
“No,” I implore. “I didn’t see it. Surely you’re just imagining things. You slept on the floor, may I remind you.”
Aldo rolls his eyes and smiles. “I just didn’t want to wake you.” He cracks his shoulders, and it sounds like a pork roast.
“Well, you should have,” I wink after. “We could’ve had fun.”
He grins, but he doesn’t follow my jokes along. Instead, he’s back to the windows , and I feel like we’ve gone a step backwards, even if we inched forwards. “It’s just the car this morning, looked like, in fact I know was the car that pulled out in front of us.” He brings it up again.
“How do you know?” I ask. “You keep saying that.”
Aldo grits his teeth and seethes between them. “I just know. The number plates… “It’s something with them…” He shakes his head. “They were interstate plates. Not South Carolina.”
“So?” I throw my hands up. Are we ever gonna talk about us? About our apparent slipping into a relationship?
“Cause it was also the car at the first motel, now that I think about it. Remember those two guys smoking across parks?”
I do remember them. But I don’t admit it to Aldo. The shape of the car pulling out seems similar, but maybe I’m convincing myself to be convinced. It’s like when you think you have lice because you’ve heard someone else did. I’m just confused…
“And the little insignia on them. It’s a-” Aldo is pointing at the windshield as he talks.
“You sure saw a lot for a car pulling out in front of us.” I fold my arms.
“I know I’m going on about it,” Aldo says, noticing my arm folding. “I just, I’m sorry. It’s just on my mind, and there’s a lot of pressure on me for this drop.”
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing his arm. Oh god, I’m all over the place. “Really. Don’t worry. The drop’s going to go fine. We’re back on the road. We’ll get to New York. Luca called this morning, remember? We’ve got twenty four hours added.”
“I know, I know,” Aldo says, going quiet and ending the conversation.
We drive in silence for a few moments, and then Aldo swears. He’s been eyeing the mirrors even more over the last mile. “Fuck it, I’m pulling over.” He yanks the wheel to the side.
“What are you doing?” I say, bracing against the dash as he pulls onto the shoulder. My stomach lurches, like we’re going to continue over.
“I’m doing an experiment,” is all Aldo replies. Hitting the hazard lights button as he does.
A part of me wonders if it’s the radiator. Of course it’s been fine since Reggie worked on the car, the front didn’t even look damaged. Even with a new radiator, he’d managed to repair the body and found a grill to replace our broken one. So, of course, it isn’t the radiator.
I go to talk and Aldo quietens me. He holds a finger up and points out his window. He points at the highway. “I’ve been looking in our mirror all morning. I’ve been convinced we’re being followed since the garage. But even then,” he shakes a fist. “They have been trailing us. That,” he says, looking at me like he’s not crazy. “It’s how I’ve known about the interstate plates and insignia.”
He says it like he’s proving a point without being condescending to me. As odd as it sounds, I find it somewhat comforting. Having grown up with a brother who needed to win arguments, it’s a change of pace.
“I knew it!” Aldo says.
A car that looks very much like the one that pulled out in front of us rolls by with two men in it, their heads swivel and they watch us. Two Eastern European looking guys with shaved heads, square jaws, and sunken cheeks trace us as they pass. A part of me wants to brush it off as coincidence. But the vague shape of the car in my memories is the same. “Shit,” I utter.
It also matches the car we saw at the first motel.
My heart begins to race, and we sit there in silence for a minute. “What’re we gonna do then?” My voice doesn’t shake, despite my body practically humming.
Aldo’s success in proving his theory right has brought him to a stop. It takes him a few moments to process my question. “We’ll keep driving.”
“Following them?” I ask, my hands turning numb from the adrenaline. I need to calm down. Or not. Someone is following us and trying to ram us off the road! What happened to the easy drop off?
“No,” Aldo says. “We’ll try to keep them in our sights. But I’m hoping that them knowing that I know has spooked them to stay away Stronzo!(assholes).”