Алан Дин Фостер - To the Vanishing Point

He was ready to admit defeat, conquered by apathy. Already he’d discarded his original plan to take several days between San Bernardino and Vegas to explore side roads and beckoning arroyos. Not even the unblemished night sky had been sufficient to enthrall his offspring.

"We saw it all at the planetarium, Daddy." So much for his daughter’s sense of wonder. As for Steven, he could only decry the absence of a laser show.

"Right," he muttered to no one in particular. "I give in."

Alicia glanced over curiously. "You give in to what, dear?"

Instead of replying he turned his head to the right, shouted toward the back of the motor home. "Hey! You kids!"

Steven looked up from his comic book. "What’s up, Dad?"

"We’re going to — Get that thing off your sister’s head, will you?"

The boy shook his head violently. "Uh-uh. If I touch 'em she’ll hit me. Shes always hitting me."

Alicia finally managed to catch her daughter’s eye. Wendy rolled her eyes and nudged the earphones back from her ears. Moetley Cruee drifted weakly through the motor home.

"What is it now?"

"You win." Frank kept one hand on the steering wheel.

Wendy glanced at her little brother, who shrugged. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I give up. I try to introduce you to a new experience, try to show you something unique, and I’m just wasting my time. I know when I’m beaten."

"Frank, watch the road," Alicia cautioned him.

"I am watching the road. Not that there’s anything to watch." He waved his hand at the cream-gray concrete. "There’s nobody else out here. We’re the only ones stupid enough to drive this stretch of road in the middle of the day, right?"

That wasn’t entirely true. Eager gamblers crammed into old Chevys and Toyotas occasionally rocketed past the motor home, exceeding the speed limit by a good twenty to thirty miles an hour in their haste to reach the neon lights and gaming tables just over the state line. They vanished rapidly over the shimmering, heat-struck horizon.

"We’re not making any more stops," he explained tiredly. "We’re gonna drive straight through. When we get there we’ll check in to a big hotel, just like everybody wants. I’ll turn the motor home in to the rental agency and we’ll fly home when vacation’s up."

"Wow, that’s great, Dad!"

"Thanks, Pops." Wendy slid her headphones back into position, closed her eyes. "That’s really rad of you." Her upper body began to sway rhythmically.

"You’re both welcome." His sarcasm was lost on them. He saw that Steven had abandoned his comic book in favor of a Transformer toy.

When he’d been a boy he’d had cap pistols and a football and a train. Immutable diversions. Now they had toys that turned into other toys. What galled him was that he couldn’t figure out how they worked. He’d once spent a futile couple of hours fiddling with one of his son’s Transformers and had achieved only a fine sense of feeling daft. Steven’s pudgy fingers effortlessly turned the chunk of brightly colored plastic and metal into a succession of sleek gadgets.

"You look worried," said Alicia. "You’re upset."

"Sure I’m upset."

"You’ve got that look on your face."

"What look? The look that says I’m forty and death is just around the corner?" He tried hard not to smile at her and failed. She reached over and caressed his right arm, squeezing gently. Both his expression and his voice softened.

"You’ve known me so long. I don’t know what I’d do without you, babe."

"Same back at you, Sonderberg. Want to drive for another hour, or you want me to take over?"

"Naw. I’ll stay with it awhile longer. After all, I’d planned on driving for another couple of days. You’re not real disappointed, are you?"

"Would I lie to you, Frank? No, I’m not disappointed. A real bed and a real shower would be so nice."

"So much for the natural experience," he grunted.

"If you want to expose the children to nature, maybe at the end of summer we can all go up to Yosemite together. I think they’d handle that okay."

"Sure they would. There’s fast food machines everywhere, cable TV, and plenty of boys for your daughter to flirt with. We can stay in some fancy hotel and eat out every night."

Her smile faded slightly. "You know, Frank, keeping house even on wheels and cooking three meals a day on that little gas stove isn’t exactly my idea of a vacation."

"All right. Point conceded. Look, I’ve already given in, haven’t I? I said we’d drive straight on through and take the plane back when it’s time to come home. Don’t make me feel any worse about it than I already do."

"I know you better than that, Frank. You’re protesting too much. Don’t tell me you’ve been having such a grand time yourself. Be honest, now."

As usual with Alicia he was unable to muster a convincing lie. "Yes and no. I’m disappointed the kids didn’t get to see more of this country. I’m sorry you and I didn’t get to see more. But maybe they aren’t old enough to appreciate it like I thought, and maybe it’s the wrong time of year." Even though it was early summer it was already too hot to stand outside for long. "My intentions were good, sweetheart."

"I know that, Frank. I think the children realize it, too."

He was nodding to himself. "My intentions were good. It was just the actuality that stank, right?" He held up a hand to forestall her protest. "Maybe we’ll try it again another year." He stared out the bug-splattered windshield at the endless ribbon of highway, the sallow-colored hills, and frugal vegetation. "Yosemite probably would be more interesting. It’s just that we were going to Vegas anyway."

"Education shouldn’t be the main purpose of a vacation, dear. It’s a lot like work. It’s hard enough to get you to relax. You’re thinking about work right now, aren’t you?"

"I’m always thinking about work. Can’t help it, hon. I’m trying to run fifty-six stores and get ready to open those four new ones in Oregon. Two in Portland, one in Medford, the other in Eugene. It’s tough to leave stuff like that behind you. You don’t know what it’s like trying to run the company now that it’s gotten so big."

"No, but I know what it’s like to try living with the man who does. That’s exasperating enough. If not for your own sake then for mine, try to put it out of your mind long enough to relax a little. It’ll do you good."

"We go through this every time we go away. God knows I’ve heard the same thing from every doctor I’ve ever seen. You know what they say? They say it’s a miracle my blood pressure isn’t higher than it is. You’re right about it, of course."

"You’re going to have to try to learn to relax in spite of yourself. You sure you don’t want me to take over?"

"No, I’ll drive for another hour, anyway. Alicia, when you’ve built up something like the business from nothing, it becomes a lot like a child itself. It’s tough to put it out of your mind."

"Well, you have two other children to consider. Sometimes it’s important for us to think about what they want instead of what we want for them."

He made a face. "You make it sound like I’ve been forcing them to sit through a ten-hour lecture on national monetary policy." He reached out to tap the map with a finger. "That ghost town yesterday was fun, wasn’t it?" He looked back. "Didn’t everybody have fun at the ghost town?"

"They had great corn dogs." Steven tried to sound hopeful, aware that his father was less than pleased with him. He wasn’t sure his reply had the desired effect, though.

"What about you?"

"Say what?" Wendy slipped off the headphones.

"Calico." Frank spoke patiently, trying to watch the road at the same time. "The ghost town. Didn’t you have a good time there?"