When I got back to the car I sat the food and drinks in the passenger seat and pumped the full tank of gas. Then I got in the car and left.
As I pulled out from the convenience store Libby woke up. She glanced around groggily and asked where we were. I told her we were somewhere about three hours south of Sacramento, a town called Pembroke, I believed. I’d seen that sign a few miles back, but I did not know if it referred to the little town I’d just driven through, or if it was somewhere else entirely.
I handed her a breakfast sandwich.
“Ah, thanks,” Libby said. “I’ll get back on my diet tomorrow.”
I laughed. That was Libby’s favorite line whenever she ate something that was not considered “clean” or “healthy”. It was a fun game she played.
“Duly noted,” I said. “As your trainer, I’m going to hold you to that.”
“You know, I’ve thought about being a personal trainer at times,” Libby said.
“Yeah, you have the physique for it. You could totally do it. So many women would love to look like you.”
Libby blushed. “You are a little biased.”
“Why would I be biased?”
“Because I have sex with you,” Libby laughed.
“Oh, yeah. And you think that would make me biased, somehow? I’m offended. I really am. You think my recommendation can actually be bought. Yeah, I’m hurt.”
Libby took a big bite out of her sandwich. “Wow, that is good. Glorious!”
“Hmm, yeah it smells delicious. Egg product…”
I teased as I started to unwrap my own sandwich. It was proving cumbersome with the wheel in the way and so forth.
“I got you,” Libby said. She grabbed my sandwich, unwrapped it, and handed it back to me.
“Well, thank you,” I said.
I took a bite and it was the most amazing thing. Why was it that fake food always tasted so much better than the real stuff?
“I am so tired,” Libby said. “I just slept for several hours; why am I tired?”
“Well, sleeping in the car is not exactly restful sleep.”
“But it can feel so cozy and comfortable. I don’t know why.”
“Yeah, I agree. Maybe you can drive for a bit after a while and let me try it.”
Libby thought it over. “I’m not sure I see that working well.”
“Oh, ok,” I said. “Well, it never hurts to try.”
“Think we ought to wake Toby up?” Libby asked. “He is probably hungry and I don’t want his sandwich to get cold.”
“I think it will be ok for a while. I heard him tossing around a lot back there; I’m not sure he’s slept too well. The poor little guy.”
“Yeah, all of this has to be so hard on him. Are we like the worst people? Getting him involved in all of this?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not our fault that this is happening, but if we were to take him somewhere, to relatives or loved ones then that would put them and him at risk. These people will stop at nothing, especially now that they know about me. They will not hesitate to use my son to lure me out and to get to you.”
“Right,” Libby said. “It’s just so horrible for him.”
“He’s a tough kid. He’s resilient. Don’t worry; he will bounce back.”
Libby finished her sandwich and grabbed a soda out of the bag. She took a sip and then sat it in the cup holder.
“I wonder if anyone is on social media this morning,” Libby said to herself as she pulled up her Facebook page.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you not to comment or tell people where you are. You have location services off, right?”
Libby looked at me like she wanted to hit me. “Yes; I’m not that dumb.”
“I never said you were,” I said. “But everyone does make mistakes, sometimes. Hell, those things can turn back on without your knowledge easily.”
“They do not change without you changing them,” she said. “That’s crazy.”
I nodded. It was a silly thing to argue about. I hated a lot of the technology, even social media which at this time is considered old technology—I still hate most of it. I utilize it mainly for business, but typically I steered clear of it in my normal, daily life. It was useless to me.
And I was well aware that it often seemed to have a mind of its own. Some people would call me paranoid, but I didn’t care. Let them think me paranoid, but I knew the kind of data that these companies were collecting on people constantly. And I did not want to contribute to it in any way.
I finally pulled through the town and out into the open highway where the speed limit finally resumed to seventy. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was the road, travelling equivalent to stepping out to stretch your own legs. The car was doing the same. I could practically hear the engine purring happier as we cruised along.