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Jan 11, 2024, 06:24AM

The Flat Tire

Something must go wrong. Always!

Flat tire jack.jpeg?ixlib=rails 2.1

Neve was fuming. Pacing by the side of the road in the middle of the high desert, smoking a cigarette she took from James’ pack. Still about three hours away from her family, waiting to greet her and feast together. They’d left around five a.m., as planned. They got through Phoenix without any trouble. Neve took the wheel at 9:30, after they let Travis Bickle do his business. They passed through mysterious Joshua Tree, where Neve remarked, “I could live there someday.”

She was now fuming because she had no idea how they’d gotten the flat tire. Fortunately, James kept a used spare in the trunk, and was busy boosting the back of the car up with a crank while Travis barked like a maniac, his head out the window.

Neve whisper-screamed to a nearby lizard, “Something must go wrong. Always!” Then she recognized she was spiraling, and focused on the cigarette. She took a few more drags and realized she’d put one of her GABA pills in her jeans pocket. She went back to the car and swallowed one with a gulp of water. James had managed to get three of the four lug nuts loose. His face was all contorted and he shouted “Po-TAY-toe!” as he yanked on the crank.

Neve texted her mom and Becca: “Hi guys! Really sorry—we’re changing a flat. Just past Joshua Tree. Probably three hours away. Hopefully there by 2:30. Love you.”

Becca saw the text first and replied that she’d let Reva and Jules know. Then she texted again, “Can you change a tire?”

Neve didn’t respond. James had the old tire off. Neve took the replacement tire out, and replaced their bags in the trunk. Travis squinted at her and tilted his head through the back window. She poured some water into a little travel bowl. She scratched him behind his old silvery ears.

They were back on the road 10 minutes later. Neve was back behind the wheel. They listened to Modest Mouse, one of James’ favorite bands. Neve was too young to know them, but she liked the lead singer’s oddly melancholic sing-shouting. Neve was relieved to be moving again, the clean black asphalt underneath James’ old Nissan. James was gazing out at the desert while the singer was sing-shouting how the universe is shaped exactly like the Earth, how if you go straight long enough, you’ll end up where you were. As Neve drove, she realized James had saved the day. He’d woken them up on time. He’d walked Travis and made eggs. He’d driven them from Tucson nearly to Joshua Tree. And the big save—he’d just changed the tire. She tapped his leg. “Hey, James.” He was in a daze with the song. She paused it. “Hey, boyfriend.” He turned. She looked into his eyes, noticing the wrinkles around the edges in the sun. “Thank you. You’re a superhero.”

“No problem,” he said, giving her his hand. They held hands for a moment, then he pressed play on the song. 

Back in Santa Barbara, Reva was prepping the turkey with garlic and herbs and determined to stuff a giant lemon inside the carcass. Still on Philadelphia time, Reva had woken at 5:30. She’d already made the stuffing, scalloped the potatoes, and taken a three-mile walk. Jules was dizzy just watching her. Becca wanted to help her mom, but she also recognized today would be a marathon, and vowed to maintain her sanity.

“Mom, what can I do?” Becca asked.

“You can take your grandpa for a nice walk and come back in an hour.” Reva replied.

They drove down to the beach. Reva preferred to have everyone out of her way while she orchestrated the feast. As they left, Reva was instructing Alexa to play “Joni Mitchell” songs. Jules wondered if Reva was thinking of Lisa and the Thanksgivings of her youth, but didn’t ask.

They drove in comfortable silence. When they pulled into the beach lot, Jules spoke, “Let’s go slow today. Your mother is quite occupied with the cooking, isn’t she?”
“She can’t help herself, Grandpa J. Not until we’re all sitting down and she has a glass of Moscato in hand.” Becca responded.

They walked down the sandy steps toward the beach. The chilly wind was steady. “I have hats in the trunk. Let’s go back and get them,” Jules suggested.

“I’ll grab them. Wait right here,” Becca replied.

Jules nodded and watched the modest waves gently crashing and the white foam spreading out in an arc. Becca returned a minute later.

“Walking on the beach in sneakers is kind of strange, isn’t it?” Becca asked as they strolled.

“I felt that way at first, but 50 degrees isn’t warm. That water isn’t welcoming. Nicer in May and June.” Jules added.

“How is your memory, Grandpa?” Becca knew he’d appreciate the direct approach, when it was just the two of them.

“I think it’s mostly fine, but some funny things have happened,” Jules admitted. “I forget about some things. I was driving to Ralph’s the other day and got a little turned around,” Jules said.

“You mean you got lost?” Becca asked.

“Sort of. I just took a wrong turn, and then realized it a couple blocks later.” Jules replied.


“Does that worry you?” Becca lowered her voice and hooked her arm around his as they strolled.

“Hard to say,” Jules began. “I’d say yes and no. I was kind of amazed that I’d forgotten such a simple route to the market, but I realized it was wrong as soon as I’d turned the wrong way. I guess I’d be concerned if I didn’t realize it was wrong.”

“That makes sense to me,” Becca wanted to reassure him. “I think it might be good to have more help,” Becca added. “It’s hard to live alone, isn’t it?”

Jules was quiet for a moment. “It might be time, but I’ve gotten used to living alone now. Will I like the person who’s trying to help me? Will they watch the Sixers without interrupting me? They won’t live with me, right?” Jules elbowed Becca in her ribs, knocking her off balance.

“You trying to box me out, Grandpa?” Becca asked, as they turned and circled back on their beach walk.

Becca felt like a mediator. Her mom asked all the questions. Now her grandpa was asking all the questions. She needed Neve to provide back-up.

When they got back to the house, Reva had the turkey in the oven and was reading on her tablet. She had what looked like flour on her cheek.

“Two hours till turkey, if Neve and James make it,” Reva called out, as they took off their sneakers. Finally, they heard the car pull into the driveway, then a quick series of barks. Neve, James and Travis had arrived just as the timer went off. 

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