Arizona was vastly beautiful! Speeding down a cliff-side desert road, hundreds of miles away from the “place of my frustration,” as I’d come to call it, was a very liberating feeling, to say the least. I loved rolling down the windows of my blue pickup and letting the winds of freedom enter in. I hadn’t told anyone that I was leaving, of course. My mother’s heartache and my father’s demand for explanation would’ve been too much. I could just envision myself in their bedroom, talking for hours upon days about it, deliberating back and forth. The weight of my mother’s pain was a terrifying foresight! Questioning my assurance through her tears again and again—what would I have chosen? My father would have certainly attempted to impress selfish motive upon me, and betrayal and neglect of responsibility. Just imagining these conversations poured a dark cloud over my once-clear vision.
“But I am right!” I shouted reassuringly into the windshield, slamming both hands down on the steering wheel of my truck. “I am right. They were all selfishly stifling me. They knew I was destined, but wanted to keep me for their own motives. There was no decision at all; I had to leave. They are in the past, and I am pursuing the future.”
I had packed up that night after writing in my journal and had left many hours before sunup the next morning. To say that I left without saying goodbye would be a bit of a stretch; I didn’t say “goodbye” personally to Acacia, my parents, or my brother, but I did write a “goodbye note” addressed to all of them. It consisted simply of my explanation for leaving, my general feelings about the situation, and that I didn’t know when it was that I would return, if at all. I didn’t go into a lot of detail, aside from the justification of my departure—I didn’t intend to create any offense, so I thought I’d pen my feelings generally. What else was there to say?
Well, I had also made mention to Acacia that the wedding was off. I thought she’d understand. After all, she didn’t seem to like me all that much anyway.
A strange incident had occurred while stopped somewhere to fill up on gas. The gas station itself was sort of rundown and in the middle of nowhere, but I had been riding on “E” for quite awhile and needed to fill up, whatever the cost. Only one other vehicle, another truck, was in the lot—assumedly the proprietor’s—when I pulled up. The pumps had no “Pay Outside” option and so, while waiting for my tank to fill, I perused the inside of the gas station, waiting to pay. It was not stocked with much, but I did approach the counter with a bottle of Dr. Pepper and a recently expired bag of Chili Frito’s. Upon placing my items near the register, I curiously noticed that there was no one else in the store. I retrieved my wallet and pulled out my credit card, anxiously waiting for the gas station attendant to appear from somewhere, anywhere. No one came. A good three minutes had passed that felt much longer. Nervous now, I tapped my card on the counter, looking around. After all of my waiting, nobody came. My only option was to leave without paying. Being that I felt guilty about stealing the gas, I decided to leave the chips and soda behind. On the way out to my truck, I took another gander around the parking lot: empty but that one other truck. I shrugged and turned back toward the pumps.
“Where are you headed?” projected a chillingly stern voice from behind me.
I whipped around to see a heavyset, gruff old man with a weathered look in his eye. I felt as if I was staring into death.
“Er, I—no, I’ll pay for it. It’s just, well, no one came so I just thought—”
“No, no,” the man corrected, “where are you headed? Your plates clearly aren’t from ‘round here.”
“Oh,” I laughed uncomfortably, “I’m moving to California… to pursue a career in writing. You know, writing books and screenplays…”
“Heh, yeah…” the man snickered and trailed off. Under his breath, I thought I heard him say, “You’re not going anywhere.” If what I heard was not in fact what he said… well, then I don’t know what the man said. I paid for my gas and left, too shaken to eat.
Otherwise, the travel was astonishingly inspiring—not just the surrounding sites and scenery, but even the simple feeling of my exodus poured lucid visions and passions into my mind. Surely my hand would create masterpiece after masterpiece on its own the moment I found time to sit with pen and paper. I could see the endings to works of mine that I’d left long unfinished; I could see beginnings to brand new pieces that were groundbreaking, even in my mind; I could see vividly the themes in all of my writing to-date tied firmly together by a sure and certain strand. My life’s work was laid out before me in a clear and cohesive path; all I needed was to come gallivanting across each plot point until my death and then: legend, fame, remembrance.
In all of the exhilaration, I became careless and nearly lost control of my vehicle, swerving away from the short, metal barrier preventing me a long, long fall to my right. That rollercoaster feeling of giant bats in my stomach caused my body to cringe, and I thanked God for solid ground and functioning power steering.
“Man,” I thought aloud, “I’ve got to focus. I can’t get too far ahead of myself.” I paused to take a breath, and the visions again seeped through the filter of my brain. “But it is so hard to contain my excitement! I mean, it’s beautiful how plainly I can see my future! There are no obstacles! Nothing could possibly stop me now!”
It was then that I rounded a corner to see an enormous block of ice appear suddenly in the middle of the road. Four-letter words flew from my mouth in a continuous stream as I attempted to put my brakes through the floor of my truck and wrench the steering wheel again to the left. Eyelids clenched shut and knuckles clutched white. I swerved to a screeching, perpendicular halt, inches away from the massive, frozen chunk. I remained in rigid fright as my truck, which was on its two right wheels, slumped fully onto four tires. The giant bats in my stomach panicked and shrieked around their trembling cave. All the blood had rushed to surface of my skin and I sat sweating while my complexion fought between flushed as a phantom and red as clay—I know it felt as if my spirit and my flesh had separated. My body shook like an abandoned dog in a thunderstorm. My spirit frantically observed from aloof. The scent of burnt rubber wafted through my windows. After my body felt safe enough to allow my spirit to reenter, my mind was able to engage the predicament.
“Okay…” I assessed my situation slowly and somberly, “I am Garret Aveny. I am alive. I just broke up with my fiancé and I am in my truck, driving to California.” Content with the past and the present, I pressed on to matters of the present and future. “Now… what the hell is that?”
I casually stepped from my car and calmly approached the colossal crystal cube. My nerves got the better of me for a moment.
“What in the hell is that damn thing?! What is it doing in the goddamn road?!” My hysteric tantrum escaped into the wind. I heard it echo, that damn thing… echo, goddamn road…
I timidly drew near the monstrous object and placed my hand on its surface. It was bitter cold upon the skin of my palm. I retracted it instantly—yes, it was in fact an insanely huge ice cube in the middle of an Arizona road amid 90-degree temperatures. How did this get here? I thought. It was impossible. There had to be someone else around. A “Candid Camera” crew if nothing else.
Stepping back a few feet I shouted up the cliff wall to my left, “Hello? Is there someone here? Anybody?” I heard my voice echo, someone here?… echo, anybody…? There was no answer. “Somebody! Anybody! There is an enormous chunk of ice here in the road! This could be dangerous!” Echo, echo. There was no one else around. I was alone.
I made a quick scan of the road, ensuring that there no vehicles were coming anytime soon from either direction, and returned to the frigid roadblock. I couldn’t believe it! This could not have actually occurred. All visions had ceased; all thoughts had stopped. My entire focus was pulled into this phenomenon of circumstance. As I observed the block, I saw that it had only just begun to respond to the effects of the heat. A few beads of water had formed on its surface and began trickling down, making glassy pathways through the icy fog on its walls. I speculated as to what I should do with this gigantic obstruction. I sized it up and examined my truck bed. The block had to have been at least four feet long and wide by eight feet high. If I consolidate, I pondered, I could probably fit all of my belongings in the passenger seat of my truck. Though I figured getting the block into my bed would be the more troublesome task. Shoving against one side of the block I found that, with much exertion, I could actually slide it because of the extra leverage of its melting surface. I had some rope, but I was still unsure if it were possible for just one person to heave it into my truck. I decided that, if need be, I could more than likely push it off of the cliff.
Once again I patrolled my surroundings. There were no cars coming in either direction.
I returned to the block and I stopped to laugh to myself—there was nothing else to do! Perhaps the shock was wearing off, or even setting in, but I simply exploded in uncontrollable laughter. I was bent over for several minutes just hooting and cackling, long enough to hear the reverberations of my mirth join me in my hilarity. Coming to my senses a bit and catching my breath, I leaned against the block of ice with my right forearm and rested my forehead against.
“Oh man,” I expressed, still lightly chuckling, “what a day today has been—he, he…! I can only imagine what might happen to me next.”
As I lifted my head, my arm slowly swiped the fog from the wall of the cube, leaving an open window into the ice as clear as glass. I placed my hands around my eyes as if holding binoculars and peered inside.
“Ah! Ah-h-h!” I screamed and jumped back. I stumbled over my suddenly uncoordinated feet and fell flat on my back. “Ah! Ah! Holy shit!”
Even from my place fast to the ground, it was all too obvious: there was a man inside of the ice.
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