As "The Tito Beltrán Massacre" by Fucking Werewolf Asso screamed from the speakers, the car crept along, inching toward our next destination: Midnight Sun, in Tombstone, east on Route 95. The street was jammed at 5:50 p.m., but the heavy traffic wasn't the only thing on my mind. I'd noticed a couple of cars riding our tail for a while.
Marvin: "Hey, someone's following us."
My gut twisted. "Damn it, please don't be the bikers." I glanced in the rearview. They were there, right on my bumper.
Marvin: "Oh, they look like the guys I took this plushie from."
"You idiot!" The bikers slammed into the back of the car. My hands tightened on the wheel as the car jolted forward.
"Marvin, give them the plushie!"
"No! It's mine. Feel this, it's so soft," he said, rubbing the plushie against his cheek. "It's got a great texture."
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled.
A voice cut through the sound of grinding metal. "Don't let them escape! They've got my sister's plushie!"
I wrestled with the steering wheel, swerving to avoid another hit, all while trying to grab the plushie from Marvin.
"Give it back!"
"No!"
"Hand it over!"
"It's mine!"
Suddenly, sirens blared in the distance. I saw the flashing lights ahead: roadwork.
"No, no, no... turn, TURN!"
I veered between cars, but one biker clipped my door and grabbed the window frame. Another reached Marvin's side.
Biker: "Give it up, dumbass!"
Marvin: "Earn it, you punks!" Marvin threw a wild punch, knocking the biker out cold and causing a chain collision behind us.
"IDIOT! What are you doing?!"
He held the biker's gun now, a small pistol in his hand, and leaned out the window.
"Drop it, Marvin!"
"I'm not gonna shoot!"
Another biker forced his way through my window. The wheel slipped from my grasp. The car skidded.
"Marvin, drop the damn gun!"
BANG! BANG! Two shots ripped through the roof. The car stalled, surrounded.
Thinking fast, I elbowed the biker, grabbed the wheel, and floored the gas. The car screeched, fishtailing onto the nearest exit. A battered sign read: "Death Valley – West Interstate 4."
We lost them. The door hung by a thread, rattling with every bump. I pulled over miles later, my lungs burning.
"What is your deal?! First, you rob bandits, now you're shooting at people? This is United Tree, not a war zone! You need to get it together!"
Marvin didn't answer. He just got out of the car, clutching the plushie. "Asleep" by Makthaverskan started playing on my headphones.
"Hey! What's your deal?" I shouted.
His voice was a near whisper. "My mom's in Motorville… she told me, 'When you come back, bring a plushie for Mama.'"
And then the memory came to me: a small Marvin, maybe five years old, sitting beside his mom in a hospital bed.
In the present, Marvin whispered, "She loves teddy bears. I didn't have money to buy one, so I just… took this one."
I froze. He's from Motorville? How did he end up in Borronia—over 1500 miles away—without money or a ride?
"Marvin… how old are you?"
"I turned… 16? Or 17? Or maybe 18... no, wait, 15. Yeah, 16."
"Idiot! How old are you right now?!"
"Uh... okay, 17. Yeah, 17."
"When did you last see your mom?"
"Um… 1, 2, 3, 4… 8 months ago?"
"How did you even get to Borronia with no money?"
"Well… I walked."
"What about school?"
"School? …Don't remember that."
It hit me with the force of a punch. He had been walking for eight years? From Motorville to Borronia?
My stomach churned. "Do you have a phone? Call your mom."
Marvin just grinned and raised his hand to his ear. "Beep beep beep!"
My heart ached. "You want something to eat?" I asked softly.
"YES! Coffee! And cookies!" he shouted with a huge smile.
I glanced at the clock: 8:54 p.m. "Marvin, aren't you sleepy?"
When I turned to him, he was already passed out on the couch, mouth wide open.
"Great," I muttered.
I nudged him awake and we made it to a nearby motel. Once inside, I spread my map on the table.
"Okay… I was on I-95, then I took an exit… but which one?"
Half-asleep, Marvin lifted his head. "I don't know… but… is there pizza?" Then he passed out again.
I locked the door (just in case), put on my headphones, and "There Comes a Time" by The Honeydrips started playing. I double-checked the Volvo, and then walked into a bar down the street.
A moment later, a small boy slid onto the stool next to me.
"Hello, sir. How are you?"
"This is a bar, kid. Where are your parents?"
"At home," he replied simply.
I sighed. "Then why are you here?"
"Someone said someone here might help me."
"Help you with what?"
He looked down at his hands. "I can't remember. We went to the mall, and then… I was just here."
I felt a pang of sympathy. "Alright, I'll take you home. Do you know where your parents are?"
His face brightened. "Ville of Brock. That's where they are."
"Perfect," I said. But my good intentions crashed when I checked my wallet. $23. "Damn it. Not even enough for gas."
I went back inside. "Hey, I need to make some cash. Are you hiring for a shift?"
She leaned on the bar, a smirk on her face. "You have a car?"
"Yeah."
"Take a look at the board. The rewards are listed."
The board had two listings:
"Someone bring me a box of beer to Rockstyle!" — Reward: $60. Waiting time: 3 days.
"Lost cat, please, if you find it bring it back home, Springfield" — Reward: $100. Waiting time: 7 days.
"I'll take both of these," I said.
She laughed softly. "Do you already have the cat?"
"No. I just need to find it, right?"
"There's a penalty if you fail."
"I know. I'm a man of my word." I was trying to sound confident.
"Alright. Name and bank account number for the transfer."
"Uh… I don't have a phone on me for a bank transfer, but I have a credit card."
She slid her phone across the bar. "I was going to get a new one anyway."
"Seriously? Thank you so much." I quickly filled out the information.
She smiled. "Hope to see you again," she said with a lingering gaze. A sudden commotion broke out at the other end of the bar, and she moved to handle it.
The kid tugged on my sleeve. "Are you two dating?"
"Of course not!" I snapped, running a hand through my hair. "It's just that… some people are just naturally charming."
It was almost 11 p.m. when we pulled into the motel lot. The kid hadn't stopped talking the whole ride.
"So, what's your friend's name?" he asked, with that endless curiosity only kids have.
"Which one?" I said, distracted, turning the key in the Volvo's ignition.
"The one who was asleep on the couch when you picked me up."
"Oh, Marvin," I sighed. "He's... my partner in this road trip."
The kid's eyes widened. "Partner? Like... cowboys?"
"Something like that," I said. "But without the horses. We've got a car that burns more gas than I can afford."
He burst out laughing. I held back a smile. We got out of the car in silence. Well, I was silent. He kept firing questions every two seconds. I pushed open the motel room door. Of course, Marvin was still sprawled on the couch, snoring like a bear. The kid walked up slowly, studying him like a rare specimen.
"And who's this guy?" he whispered.
"Your uncle Marvin," I said, the words slipping out to avoid a long explanation.
"For real?" he asked, eyes wide with excitement.
"Of course not, idiot," I laughed. "He's just Marvin. Trust me, you wouldn't want him as your uncle."
Marvin mumbled in his sleep, "Pizza... with mushrooms?"
The kid and I locked eyes and burst into laughter. I used the distraction to lock the door and wedge a chair under the window. I wasn't in the mood for any surprises tonight.
I flopped onto the bed, pulled out my earbuds, and hit play on "There Comes a Time" again. The soft melody filled the room. The kid curled up in the bed next to mine, acting like this was all perfectly normal.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Do you think tomorrow we can look for my parents?"
I looked at him, trying to sound calm and reassuring. "Yeah, tomorrow. I promise. But first, let's get some sleep, okay?"
"Okay. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Kid."
Marvin snored louder than ever, like a final punctuation mark on the day. I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "A trip with a useless partner, a lost kid, and 23 bucks in my pocket," I thought. "What could possibly go wrong?"