Night Driver (Continued again)

I pulled off the Interstate just before the State Border. Needed smaller and slower things. Back roads slow me down. More about driving, less about thinking. So I headed North and eased through soft countryside and occasional hamlets. Small places known to those in them and but a few more. Places we blow by or pass through. We forget them either way. Needed to see them. Notice them. Let them know I was here.

My body felt the setting sun. Still visible, its shift would be over soon. The waitress was less than two hours behind me. Kids likely doing whatever it is she has them do between dinner and get to bed time. She had them to distract her. I had a few traffics lights and stretches of narrow roads. Distractions are a good thing sometimes.

Then there were fewer traffic lights. My own doing. A country road here. State road there. A country side, small time maze of who the fuck cares if this really goes anywhere. I just drove and turned without noticing, caring, or remembering. Dove into the process of driving. Let it own me. Consume me. Focused on the act. Danced the dance of the drifter. Turned down a road with limits and followed it to the end. Smithville. Not that it mattered. Roads like Paradise in name and solitude. Not that it mattered. Pulled off at a park. Clay County Park. Not that it mattered. None of it really mattered. Parked the faithful steed. Walked.

Everyone was home. All was quiet in Smithville. No pressure to keep up with the Jones. Folks were tucked into their after dinner routine. Twilight was almost here and the locals knew it. So did their park. Clay Country Park eased to night. When the only visitors ain’t there for the sights. It was too late for those that used the park as a park and too early for those that just came here to be in the dark. It was between. I walked a bit.

Walking normally soothes me. Calms me. Not tonight. Not even almost this almost tonight. Not by a long shot. Tried to sit. It didn’t work. Skipped some rocks. That didn’t work for long. Parks are places for the connected. Trimmed and kept and ready to comfort places for trimmed and kept and ready for comfort people. I was an outsider tonight. On the edge of wild abandon. Uncivilized. This was not my park. Not my place. Not my time. I did not belong here and the park helped me realize it. My joy was not in Smithville tonight.

Skipped one last stone and headed back to roads that went somewhere. Turned left when right was back to where I came from. Purposefully. Four lane roads with junk food and repetitive scenery were out there and I needed one of them. Headed West to get back on course. Kansas City was too big and this place was too small. Needed a place in plain site that nobody noticed. I needed a hot meal and a good night’s sleep at night time like real people with real lives. Another night in Kansas wouldn’t be that bad. Sometimes traveling means stopping at places longer than you expected.