** Derailed **

It wasn’t like this twenty years ago. Least that’s what her parents always said.

"This city was nice, when you were little. The freeways weren’t like what they are, now."

She sighed. Tried to shake away the leg cramp. It had been an hour since they had split – ran out of the office without a word – careful not to let them see her shaking. An hour on the 91 – they weren’t even half-way home yet.

Little by little families began piling in – pre-fab houses imported by the truckload. Like shit. Layer after layer – the city couldn’t keep up. Shoddy road construction turned the once two lane freeway into three, from three to four, four to five, five to six. But the shit kept piling in.

"Gonna have to push that increase back a few months, you know how the industry’s hurtin’…"

"We’ve decided to shave 15% off overhead… starting with salaries… surely you understand. Six months max… "

"Or seven."

"… maybe next month."

"We got nothin’."

The music stopped. Cut to commercial. She couldn’t be bothered to dig out her ipod.

"I know we said he’d start next month but… it’s gonna be awhile."

"They don’t need journeymen out there."

"Fuck this. I’m pulling my card. I’m sick of this union bullshit…."

Picked up speed through Corona. More commercials.

It was always that same spot… just before the 15 – shoulder turned to carpool when they piled asphalt over the grid. Moved the divider over a few feet – called it a day. Gotta make room. You don’t feel it much in a big truck – but she felt it every time. Shit pulling you one way. White knuckle the steering wheel, try to keep the car going the other.

What would it feel like – hitting the wall at 80…

They were coming up to it fast. Damn near seven years, she’d know it with her eyes closed. She pressed the accelerator.

"We weren’t always like this," her mom says, "We used to be happy… don’t you remember?"

"I don’t remember…"

"We used to be nice, back when you were little…"

"I don’t remember…"

Her friend told her once – a few summers back – he told her that eventually she’d have to stop fighting it. The shit. He said a person could only keep up for so long. Everybody hits the wall every once in a while.

"You ever seen a sling shot?" he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes locked straight ahead, seeing something she couldn’t see.

It was there, same as always. She could see the patch – a crooked line of tar cutting through the lane, covering the shit, disappearing beneath a thick concrete divider. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

".. That’s what you’re like…, " he turned to look at her, his blue eyes turned heavy and gray, "the way you keep pulling yourself in the opposite direction…"

The tires hit  – got stuck in the groove like a roller coaster gripping a hot steel track on the decline. She closed her eyes – imagined the drop.

"… You can only go so far though," he shrugged.

Her fingers relaxed against the steering wheel – eyes closed – body loose.

"Rubber bands only stretch so much before they shoot back the way they’re meant to go."

I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired.

"I’m going to Mexico in September. I’m gonna need you here while I’m away. I know you had time off but…"

"Hey babe… I need to tell you something…"

"It wasn’t a daily thing. Or weekly. Or… monthly, even…"

"That was your aunt… he’s missing again. Since Thursday…"

"I don’t remember…"

"I never meant for you kids to find out."

Fuck. She tensed. Eyes snapped open – blood rushing to her extremities. Fuck. Blinked – jerked the wheel against the pull. Tapped the break. A van honked at her right – soccer mom glared, shook her head. She glared back. Steadied.

"The hell was that?" He sister glanced up – peered over the dash in the passenger’s seat.

"Nothing. Just that damn pat-."

"Oh HELL YEAH! I beat my lowest time!" she flashed her cell phone, the screen showing angry birds grinning over bruised and battered piggies.

"Two gold stars…" She mumbled.

"Somebody’s gonna hit that wall sooner or later…" her sister frowned, fumbling with buttons.

"Maybe." 

Everyone hits it eventually.

"Just not today."