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Toby raised a hand to shade his face from the noonday sun as he peered down the wide, white road. Japeth had told him to go this way, for this was the path traveled forty years ago in the small band’s quest for a home. Concrete bridges and overpasses jutted out like giant skeletons, bleached by the elements. He stopped at a crossroad. Which way?
“Follow the sun.” The Voice spoke for the first time in two days.
Toby jumped and looked around. “But where am I going?” he demanded. A small trickle of doubt began to pool in his mind. Was the Voice good?
Remember Mia and Valerie. There were still good people in this world, and he had found them. His heart urged to him to keep walking; the Voice was a friend he could trust.
Only a few vehicles peppered the highway, twisted in haphazard final resting places after their drivers’ sudden inability to operate them. He looked into the first vehicle to check for artifacts of interest. A hollowed-eyed skull stared back at him. Never mind. He turned away and kept walking.
The ground slanted up and bluffs loomed on either side of him, casting a welcome shade after hours in the hot sun. Toby’s stomach began to wonder about lunch, so he sat on a rock and ate a delightful meal. A rock wall created a convenient resting place. He settled back for a short nap.
A robust and off-key voice jarred his slumber. He jumped to his feet and looked around, blinking. Another person in this desolate pass? Valerie had warned him of looters. He shivered. He couldn’t handle more violence and pain.
The song was distant, but never wavered. The melody sounded cheerful, not evil. His ears swiveled to catch the words and his curiosity built to a bursting point. I’ll just creep up and find out who is singing. If they look dangerous, I’ll go away. No harm done.
The side of the cliff was easy enough to scale, but he froze every time his foot dislodged a stone. This was different than the dark hike through the swamp. Rocks and trees were sparse with few shadows to hide him. The climb took only a few moments, and soon he crawled up onto a broad plateau pitted with holes, like a pocked face. A few shrubby trees stood like wiry hairs throughout the landscape.
The song was much louder. A red shock of human hair stuck out from the rocks, supported by a round head, broad shoulders and a beefy pink back clothed in a few rags. A man, or at least part of a man, was encased in the rock. He threw his head back to bellow forth:
“Oh, Little Liza,
Little Liza Jane,
Dear Little Liza,
Little Liza Jane!”
A desire to know this character’s story caused Toby to step forward. He didn’t wish to startle him, so he waited for the man to notice he was there.
The man turned his head and his eyes, white and blue in his tanned face, brightened at the sight of him.
“Why, hello there, little fella!” His voice was warm and friendly without a trace of the shock most people expressed when they first met Toby.
Toby drew closer and saw the man was wedged in a hole in the rock. The rock had been eroded by the wind and rain to form a natural seat, large enough for the man and one other person to sit in comfort. A chunk of the stone rose before him at the perfect height for an arm rest and between his hands a disc-shaped stone protruded.It looked like an automobile, but these shapes had been molded into the rock centuries before vehicles were invented.
“How long have you been here?” was the question Toby chose from the dozens buzzing though his mind.
“Oh, the cat has a tongue?” The man roared with laughter at his own joke.
“Yes, I do.” Toby was getting used to jokes of this sort made at his expense. “I want to know how you found this place and why you stay here, if you don’t mind me asking.”
The man’s smile grew so wide Toby worried it might meet around the back, like Alice’s Humpty Dumpty.
“Don’t mind at all, don’t mind at all. For many years I was a trader. My pack’s over there.” He indicated a large bag leaning against a tree close by. Pots, pans and other odds and ends hung from the sides. Wandering vines entwined themselves through the pack and its contents. A small shelter built of sticks stood close to the tree, a fire with live embers glowing beside.
“Yup, yup, my camp.” The man’s words seeped through his ludicrous smile. “But soon it won’t have to be.”
“Oh really?”
“Sure! I’ll be on the open road! The way might get bumpy, but I know my tires will hold.”
“Tires?” Toby scanned the area, but could not see any kind of vehicle.
“Yup, yup,” the man said again, and patted the shelf of rock in front of him.
Toby leaned closer, noting the man’s peeling skin and redness from constant exposure to the sun.
“It won’t be long now… until my car is evolved.”
“You mean…” Toby rubbed his ears. “You think this rock will change into a car?”
“Why not?” The smile never faded. “I got my seats. I got my dashboard! I even has my steerer wheel!” The man patted the round stone for emphasis. “Not like those metal toasters we used to drive, ain’t it? Got everyone nasty cooked up, didn’t they? Nope, here we have what saved good ol’ Horace’s life in the first place. Plain ol’ safe rock. It’s the only way to travel!”
Sheer desperation and fear settled behind the cheerful face. Flickers of insanity flashed in the man’s eyes.
Have I lost my mind as well? After all, Toby followed a dangerous road. His guide was a mysterious voice heard only by him. He walked away a few steps and sat with his head in his hands. All the people he had met depended on hopes, some obvious to everyone and some known only to themselves.
Certainty bubbled up inside of him. I must continue, if just to prove to myself there is nothing to find. But first he would reach out to this poor soul and try to help. He went back over to the man, who was singing again.
Toby had to shout over the man’s rollicking tune. “Sir, why don’t you come with me?” He waved his hands. “I know of a place nearby where good people live. They would give you food and a comfortable bed.”
The large mouth closed and the man’s face darkened in confusion. “Why would I go, with a miraculous set to happen at any time? This car won’t just up and make itself! I have to believe! Believe with the rock! The rock will become a car!”
Toby reached into his pack for one of Valerie’s precious loaves. “Here is some food, at least.”
“Thank you, kindly,” said the man between mouthfuls. He gulped water from a battered canteen beside him. Then his eyes lit up. “Say, little feller, why don’t you sit here?” He patted the rock next to him. “With two of us believin’, this car could get made up a whole lot quicker!”
Toby backed away. “No thank you, Mr. Horace, I have my own journey to finish and I think I have a better chance on foot. Take care of yourself.”
“Don’t you worry about me. Someday we’ll meet again, and I’ll give you a ride!”
Toby shook his head and walked away. The man’s song resumed as Toby followed the beckoning sun across the plateau.