Abandoned roads - Jos Lammers

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huge dusty parking lots alongside. Five motels, ranging from our Sleepy Hollow (‘clean – refrigair – TV’) to the Budget Inn Motel (’God bless you – free internet’) right across, Mexican Food To Eat In And Take Out, Harry’s Bar (Butch Cassidy’s favorite hangout), the post office with the stars and stripes on top and a number of gas stations. Our Chevy eagerly slurps it in, because all that work requires food. And work he does. If you accidentally forget to put your foot on the brake, Chevy simply refuses to be put in gear. Doing it his way he immediately locks the doors, dims the interior lights, checks the light outside and adjusts the exterior lights accordingly, tells you whether the trunk is closed and reports an unbuckled belt. Inexperienced with thinking cars as we are, getting along requires some habituation. Like at first Chevy refused to unlock his doors. The drivers door sure, but the rest stayed locked. When in growing astonishment we pushed some buttons on the key ring, the solution had to be hidden there, he angrily started honking and then started his own engine while we were still standing on the 7-eleven doorstep with our bottles of water and fresh buns. It was now completely clear who was in charge here. Only after some help from a more experienced Chevy driver he would accept us again and even open his doors with a cheerful bleep and a wink of his warning lights. Even The Byrds and Dylan sound quadraphonic through our little home, after a day of desperate pleading with the buttons and lights of the audio station. 56
We thank him in a friendly manner, being sensitive remains the motto in a relation like this. It takes at least another day and a half of consulting various passers-by (‘maybe better ask a guy’ and ‘I’m from the old school, sorry’), before he finally reveals the secret of the cruise control too. Sometimes we were sure we had entered the right combination on the mysterious little panel on the left of the steering wheel (‘is it a cruise control after all’). Sometimes resulting in a ‘yes, it is!’, but as soon as the road rose again, our hopes and his speed dropped again. But after a night’s rest away from each others site in Sleepy Hollow, seemingly without thinking we enter the perfect combination of keys. From that moment on we understand each other and Chevy takes care of it all and on his own. Without needing our legs we glide past rock sculptures, boulders barely in balance and mountain ridges where any moment you expect the chief of Apaches to appear. ‘We’re gonna let it all hang out’ with J. J. Cale as a quadraphonic blanket around us. I think over yesterday’s American television in Sleepy Hollow where first the ‘war on terror’ made its appearance, then gruesome images of what could happen to your kitchen when germs got their chance, followed by a man with a dog urging us to immediately purchase a burglar alarm, that is if you wanted to keep the creepy rapist you just saw away from your door, and finally a blond lady 57
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Page 56 and 57: that stuffed a large plastic crate
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Abandoned roads - Jos Lammers

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