A Drink for Alaska

          "Wish I was. Trust me, this is as insane to me as it is to you."

          Peter doubted that. He looked at the clock—9:25. This could distract him for a while. "What time?"

          "Departure's at midnight. Should give us plenty of time I think."

          "Yeah, well, we better hurry. Never know what the traffic's gonna be like."

          Dan smiled. "Thanks man. You a saint." Both hopped in Peter's Subaru Outback and buckled up. "Mind if we stop by my car first? I have my luggage to pick up."

          "Sure, no problem."

# # #

          "There it is. The piece of crap Toyota. To think, they're supposed to be reliable," Dan said.

          Peter pulled up next to Dan's car. "Usually are."

          Dan got out to get his luggage and Peter went around to open his trunk. Peter saw Dan bend over into the backseat of the Toyota and heard him shout. "Well, as soon as I get settled in Alaska, I'm gettin' a BMW."

          "Alaska? Don't think that's a place for one of those."

          "They got SUVs, don't they? I'll get me one of them." Dan handed the last bag to Peter. Peter took it, stuffed it in, and slammed the trunk shut. They both got into the car and continued toward the airport.

          Silence filled the car. Peter glanced over at Dan. "So, Alaska? Pretty lonely out there isn't it?"

          "For some I imagine, but this girl I tell ya," Dan said.

          "Pretty special huh?"

          "Don't know where I would be without her."

          "Nice," Peter sighed. "All I can say, is cherish it while you can. It may not last."

          Out of the corner of his eye, He saw Dan turn toward him. "Dude, a little pessimistic don't you think?"

          "I guess so, it's just—my wife left me, man."

          "Ouch. What'd you do?"

          The question startled Peter. What did he do? "Never mind," he said. "I shouldn't have even brought it up."

          "Seriously, there has to be some reason."

          Peter looked straight ahead, didn't answer.

          "Bro, women don't leave you for no reason. I'm just saying."

          Peter slowly turned his head toward Dan, angry and oblivious to safety. "'Dude,' I told you—" easy does it. Serenity, acceptance, courage, and wisdom. Peter couldn't let himself lose it. He wanted to pull the car over, yank Dan out of his seat, and smash the man's glasses into his face. But, by the grace of God, he wouldn't. If Dan sat in this exact place seven years ago, before Peter joined Alcoholics Anonymous, Peter would have knocked him out and left him on the side of the road to freeze his ass off. And, for what? Because the guy was a little nosy? Instead, Peter exhaled and gave him a long smile. "I mean. I have no clue." Peter looked out the windshield and saw an exit with a Chevron. He pulled off. "Think we need some gas."

# # #

          At 10:41, the Chevron buzzed with fluorescents. Peter left Dan in the car and headed toward the station. He handed the clerk some gas money and found his way to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and staring into the mirror. This road trip accomplished the exact opposite of what he wanted; it intensified the reality of his situation. He patted his pocket. The keys were still in the car. He didn't dry his face or hands and darted out of the bathroom. Dan still sat in the passenger seat. Peter let out a sigh, shook his head, and laughed at himself. He headed toward the car, approached the pump, and placed the nozzle inside the tank. Dan popped a corn nut in his mouth. "Get hungry?" Peter asked.