{"id":14335,"date":"2022-09-15T11:20:24","date_gmt":"2022-09-15T16:20:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/?p=14335"},"modified":"2025-11-15T11:07:29","modified_gmt":"2025-11-15T17:07:29","slug":"highway-111","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/09\/15\/highway-111\/","title":{"rendered":"HIGHWAY 111\ufffc"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<ul class=\"wp-block-social-links is-content-justification-right is-layout-flex wp-container-core-social-links-is-layout-765c4724 wp-block-social-links-is-layout-flex\"><li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-facebook  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/profile.php?id=61556140010887\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12 2C6.5 2 2 6.5 2 12c0 5 3.7 9.1 8.4 9.9v-7H7.9V12h2.5V9.8c0-2.5 1.5-3.9 3.8-3.9 1.1 0 2.2.2 2.2.2v2.5h-1.3c-1.2 0-1.6.8-1.6 1.6V12h2.8l-.4 2.9h-2.3v7C18.3 21.1 22 17 22 12c0-5.5-4.5-10-10-10z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Facebook<\/span><\/a><\/li>\n\n<li class=\"wp-social-link wp-social-link-instagram  wp-block-social-link\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/boudin_mcneese\/\" class=\"wp-block-social-link-anchor\"><svg width=\"24\" height=\"24\" viewBox=\"0 0 24 24\" version=\"1.1\" xmlns=\"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/2000\/svg\" aria-hidden=\"true\" focusable=\"false\"><path d=\"M12,4.622c2.403,0,2.688,0.009,3.637,0.052c0.877,0.04,1.354,0.187,1.671,0.31c0.42,0.163,0.72,0.358,1.035,0.673 c0.315,0.315,0.51,0.615,0.673,1.035c0.123,0.317,0.27,0.794,0.31,1.671c0.043,0.949,0.052,1.234,0.052,3.637 s-0.009,2.688-0.052,3.637c-0.04,0.877-0.187,1.354-0.31,1.671c-0.163,0.42-0.358,0.72-0.673,1.035 c-0.315,0.315-0.615,0.51-1.035,0.673c-0.317,0.123-0.794,0.27-1.671,0.31c-0.949,0.043-1.233,0.052-3.637,0.052 s-2.688-0.009-3.637-0.052c-0.877-0.04-1.354-0.187-1.671-0.31c-0.42-0.163-0.72-0.358-1.035-0.673 c-0.315-0.315-0.51-0.615-0.673-1.035c-0.123-0.317-0.27-0.794-0.31-1.671C4.631,14.688,4.622,14.403,4.622,12 s0.009-2.688,0.052-3.637c0.04-0.877,0.187-1.354,0.31-1.671c0.163-0.42,0.358-0.72,0.673-1.035 c0.315-0.315,0.615-0.51,1.035-0.673c0.317-0.123,0.794-0.27,1.671-0.31C9.312,4.631,9.597,4.622,12,4.622 M12,3 C9.556,3,9.249,3.01,8.289,3.054C7.331,3.098,6.677,3.25,6.105,3.472C5.513,3.702,5.011,4.01,4.511,4.511 c-0.5,0.5-0.808,1.002-1.038,1.594C3.25,6.677,3.098,7.331,3.054,8.289C3.01,9.249,3,9.556,3,12c0,2.444,0.01,2.751,0.054,3.711 c0.044,0.958,0.196,1.612,0.418,2.185c0.23,0.592,0.538,1.094,1.038,1.594c0.5,0.5,1.002,0.808,1.594,1.038 c0.572,0.222,1.227,0.375,2.185,0.418C9.249,20.99,9.556,21,12,21s2.751-0.01,3.711-0.054c0.958-0.044,1.612-0.196,2.185-0.418 c0.592-0.23,1.094-0.538,1.594-1.038c0.5-0.5,0.808-1.002,1.038-1.594c0.222-0.572,0.375-1.227,0.418-2.185 C20.99,14.751,21,14.444,21,12s-0.01-2.751-0.054-3.711c-0.044-0.958-0.196-1.612-0.418-2.185c-0.23-0.592-0.538-1.094-1.038-1.594 c-0.5-0.5-1.002-0.808-1.594-1.038c-0.572-0.222-1.227-0.375-2.185-0.418C14.751,3.01,14.444,3,12,3L12,3z M12,7.378 c-2.552,0-4.622,2.069-4.622,4.622S9.448,16.622,12,16.622s4.622-2.069,4.622-4.622S14.552,7.378,12,7.378z M12,15 c-1.657,0-3-1.343-3-3s1.343-3,3-3s3,1.343,3,3S13.657,15,12,15z M16.804,6.116c-0.596,0-1.08,0.484-1.08,1.08 s0.484,1.08,1.08,1.08c0.596,0,1.08-0.484,1.08-1.08S17.401,6.116,16.804,6.116z\"><\/path><\/svg><span class=\"wp-block-social-link-label screen-reader-text\">Instagram<\/span><\/a><\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-large-font-size\"><strong>HIGHWAY 111<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Mathieu Cailler<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Even at 11:59 p.m., the heat still owned Palm Springs. Emile\u2019s shift had started a couple of hours earlier, and he sat in his taxicab, munching on some stale donut holes, waiting for dispatch to inform him of his next pick-up. He tinkered with the radio and absorbed some mundane news: It was hot. The DOW had fallen. People weren\u2019t watching the Olympics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Tired of the A\/C, he rolled down his window and let the arid wind sweep across his face. Twelve years out here, and his brain still had a hard time associating night with warmth. Emile took a slug of coffee and popped in his last doughnut hole. He stared at the green-lit dashboard clock and studied the pulsing dots between the hours and minutes. He clenched his jaw and ground his molars.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Seconds later, it was midnight, May 24<sup>th<\/sup>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Nothing, of course, had changed. Highway 111 was identical to moments prior: razor-sharp cacti flanking the road, lampposts casting yellow rays onto the black street, and bright gas stations and fast-food restaurants emitting their noxious stink. Once again, he glanced at the time. This day always hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dispatch crackled through, alerting him of a passenger. Emile grabbed the CB and depressed the switch. \u201cThe strip club?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dispatch confirmed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile punched the gas and rushed past banks, liquor stores, and delis. The roads were clear, with only the occasional car or cab. America was turning into one big strip mall. Emile always joked that it was like he was driving on a treadmill, unable to tell one block from another. The faster he drove the harder air came at him, and he savored the way it raced over his arms and rattled his eardrums. 12:02, the clock read. The pulsing dots steady and strong, like a heartbeat. Where was she right now? Was her hair long? Were her fingers clad with rings? What shade was her lipstick? How sweet was her perfume?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Cars jammed the parking lot of the Booby Trap, and Emile waited in the messy line, the back wheels of his cab hanging into the street. He dragged his eyes across the neon sign of a woman kicking one of her legs high above her head. The sign was constructed in three parts: one of a woman standing naturally, wearing cowboy boots, denim shorts, and a low-cut t-shirt; the second part showed her kicking up halfway; and the last frame showcased her leg up by her head. Emile followed the sign through its progression before a parking-lot attendant yelled at him to pull up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He jutted forward and popped a toothpick between his lips. A young woman and man staggered towards the cab, whipped the door open, and flung themselves into the backseat. They were dizzy with laughter and dragged more heat into the car. Booze permeated the cabin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhere to?\u201d Emile asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHead towards Indian Wells,\u201d the man said. His hair was buzzed, and his eyes were wrapped with Buddy Holly glasses. He slammed the door and Emile nodded and drove.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The young woman flicked on the overhead light and dug through her purse. Emile peeked in the rearview mirror, allowing his eyes to roam the woman. She was tight against her door, bursts of breath fogging up the window. She was attractive, around twenty, wearing a black-haired bob and a red tank top. Large hoop earrings dangled from her lobes and swayed whenever the road roughened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Dispatch asked if Emile had picked up the client, and he confirmed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI like your accent,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cIs it French?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYes,\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHow long have you been here? In the U.S.? In Palm Springs?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cToo long.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019ve always wanted to go to France,\u201d she said. \u201cAlways wanted to walk the cobblestone streets. Are you from Paris?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cJesus, baby, leave the man alone. He doesn\u2019t need you breathing down his neck, okay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cShut up,\u201d she said. \u201cYou\u2019re such an ass when you drink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t talk to me like that, all right?\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile glanced in the rearview and noticed the man\u2019s hairy hand resting on the girl\u2019s shoulder. The man then reached up and turned off the cabin light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s fine,\u201d Emile said. \u201cI don\u2019t mind. No, I\u2019m not from Paris. I\u2019m from Corsica, a little leaf-shaped island in the Mediterranean.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDo you guys have cobblestones?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIn important places.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">At least twice a day Emile withstood this conversation. Most of the time, he wished he was American, so that people wouldn\u2019t have access to such an easy topic of conversation, but with this girl, he didn\u2019t mind. He liked her delicate voice, and he had the feeling that speaking with him was the farthest she\u2019d ever traveled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou wanna know something?\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWill you shut up for a second?\u201d the man said. \u201cYou wanna marry this man or something? You wanna have his babies? Damn!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile turned on the overhead light and swung his head around. \u201cIt\u2019s fine,\u201d he said. \u201cOkay? Let her be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The man licked his teeth, and Emile peered down to see the man\u2019s thick hand on the young woman\u2019s knee. He was rough on her skin, not caressing, but gripping and kneading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSo, yes,\u201d Emile said, \u201cI do want to know something.\u201d He clicked off the light and blackness, once again, swallowed the cabin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cToday\u2019s my 21<sup>st<\/sup> birthday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d the man said. \u201cNo more fake IDs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile\u2019s abdomen knotted and his eyes burned. Obviously, he knew that people shared her birthday, but he\u2019d never met another with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIs that gonna get me a free ride?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNope,\u201d Emile said. \u201cOnly an <em>actual<\/em> birth will do that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIn that case,\u201d she said. There was some rustling in the back seat and the girl began to spout impassioned moans. \u201cJust kidding,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t play me like that,\u201d the man said. \u201cGot me all excited.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhatever,\u201d the young woman said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile remembered being her age. It was an easy time to sink back into. Back then, he thought he was invincible. All he cared about then was his Citro\u00ebn and his Gitanes cigarettes. He\u2019d only smoked them because of the design of the package: the silhouette of a seductive woman in a shroud of smolder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He\u2019d meet Fran\u00e7oise for lunch at the port, and they\u2019d navigate her father\u2019s boat along the coastline, take in the <em>calanques<\/em>, and stop for a swim when the heat became unbearable. Afterwards, they\u2019d share a towel, and let the rest of their droplets dry in the sun. They\u2019d savor a cigarette or two and do their best to construct interesting designs with their smoke. She\u2019d often paint her toenails aboard the boat, and after some getting used to, Emile made his peace with the chemical smell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHey, buddy, you ever been to that club . . . Booby Trap?\u201d the man asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo,\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhy not? You gay or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo, I just think a man should have to earn seeing breasts.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSome beautiful girls in there, though,\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThey <em>were<\/em> beautiful,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cAnd they smelled so good. I just didn\u2019t like it when they clacked their heels together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI hope you go through with it,\u201d the man said to the young woman. \u201cThe manager really seemed interested. You got his number, right? Think of the loot you\u2019ll make.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d the young woman said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile cracked his toothpick and tossed it out the window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cStrange to take your girlfriend to a strip club, don\u2019t you think?\u201d Emile asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat\u2019s strange is me listening to you run your mouth in your weird voice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cBe quiet,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cCalm down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t tell me to calm down. Shit. You know how much I hate that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou drank too much,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile cranked the A\/C higher. He then turned down the CB and covered the time, 12:18, with a wadded-up paper towel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou want one?\u201d Emile heard the man ask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo, I told you before . . . \u00a0I don\u2019t like \u2019em,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile stopped at red light and turned his head. A nearby Taco Bell lit the surroundings a pale shade of blue and allowed Emile to see into the backseat with ease. The man was holding a small baggy of what looked like pills.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNot in my cab, okay?\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cRelax, man.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile told the young woman to fasten her seatbelt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The light flipped to green, and Emile accelerated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The man did as he pleased\u2014Emile knew he would\u2014and popped some pills in his mouth and threw his head back. Emile swung his eyes over to meet the young woman\u2019s. Her mouth stayed tight in a flat line, and she offered a shrug. She then mouthed \u201csorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile nodded and drove hard. He loved being behind the wheel, in total control of the V8, and he glided from lane to lane and watched the money grow on the meter. Up ahead, a green light turned yellow, and he punched the brakes and steadied the wheel. In a clothing store on the right side of 111, a mannequin stood tall under fluorescent lights. She wore a pink bikini and a large-brimmed straw hat. A tote bag dangled from her shoulder, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cPretty lady,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cDon\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile laughed. \u201cYes, very.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNice body, right?\u201d she said. \u201cIs she your type?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI guess. She doesn\u2019t have any hands. I feel like I need a woman with hands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYeah, but this way you don\u2019t have to worry about getting slapped.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat about dinner, though? It\u2019d be hard to go out to eat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou could feed her. She could be your little baby,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile clamped his teeth, and a bright pain spread through his gums. \u201cMaybe,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHave you ever been to Paris?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cMany times.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSo you\u2019ve seen the Eiffel Tower?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHave you climbed it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo,\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The light changed, and again, Emile sped off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019m a small-town guy,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHow\u2019d you end up in Palm Springs?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI came to California to get away, live by the beach, but it was too expensive, so a friend of mine helped me get a job out here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A construction crew smoothed new asphalt with steamrollers and a large sign with a flashing arrow directed drivers into a single lane. Emile rolled down his window and came to a stop. Flares hissed and glowed, and Emile stared at them until his eyes stung. Even when he turned away, he could still see the luster of their burn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cBaby, just one,\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019ve told you a hundred times that it makes me feel funny,\u201d she said. \u201cYou don\u2019t listen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile wished he could tell the young woman not to take the stripper job\u2014that most people thought they could do something for a little while and then change later in life, but that life wasn\u2019t that convenient and easy to correct.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile turned on the radio, and Lou Reed\u2019s \u201cTake a Walk on the Wild Side\u201d seeped from the speakers. He turned it up a touch. He muttered along best he could, the lyrics snatched by the V8\u2019s growl air. Then the young woman joined in for a verse. When the saxophone came into play, Emile hummed and glanced in the rearview mirror, but it was too dark to see her expression.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI love this song,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI learned English from Lou Reed and Bob Dylan and some from Elvis.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI like the way you say <em>Elvis<\/em>, like <em>El-Veese.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThank you,\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The construction crew\u2019s orange vests lit up as the taxi\u2019s headlights brushed over the reflective material. A man held up a sign that said SLOW, and the single lane spread back into three.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">When Emile was the girl\u2019s age, he thought love came easy. Even at the time, he knew it wasn\u2019t right to think such a thing, but he was young and handsome; his stomach was ribbed with muscles; his hair was thick; his jokes were funny. But now, thirty years later, he knew with certainty that Fran\u00e7oise was the only women he\u2019d ever loved. And sometimes he\u2019d swim in the thickness of old memories: feel her hot breath against his neck and inhale the olive oil of her soap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cJust one. Come on,\u201d the man said. His voice was sharp. \u201cYou\u2019ll see, you\u2019ll feel good. Trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile knew the man wasn\u2019t wearing his seatbelt and that the girl was, so he made sure no one was behind him and crushed the brakes. The tires squealed, and the steering wheel rattled under his grip. The man jolted forward and his forehead slammed the thick plastic divider.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cListen,\u201d Emile said. \u201cShe\u2019s said \u2018no\u2019 twenty times. Are you stupid or something?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cShit,\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSir, sir,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cStop. It\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She reached through the opening in the divider and touched Emile on the shoulder. He let out a breath, pulled over, and threw the cab into park.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">His mind whirled. It was the first day of autumn, 1970. Church bells clanged in the distance, and sun sliced through flaking shutters. He only had a week before his obligated eighteen months of military service, and he spent as much time with Fran\u00e7oise as possible. They\u2019d planned to sleep together for the first time at her parents\u2019 home. Her parents had left for Bastia to meet up with old friends. Fran\u00e7oise was flat on her bed, nude, her knees up. They took their time, giggled, and heard the mattress squeak with each thrust.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat is your problem, dude?\u201d the man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile\u2019s chest heaved, and he turned on the overhead light and faced the man. He started to speak, but caught the girl\u2019s eyes. She seemed scared, with her palms facing forward, and a clammy sheen spread over her skin. \u201cHe gets like this when he drinks,\u201d she said. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t mean it. Really.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHere!\u201d the man said. \u201cI\u2019m having one more! See? See?\u201d He dug into his pocket, rubbed a green pill between his fingers, and popped it into his mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo!\u201d the young woman said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhy are you with this man, this loser?\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cDon\u2019t judge me. Don\u2019t judge us. Just drive,\u201d she said. \u201cPlease, just drive!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile\u2019s hands shook, and heat seized his chest and flashed up to his throat. He put the car in gear and took off, the needle swinging from thirty to forty to fifty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Fran\u00e7oise\u2019s parents had come home early\u2014of course they had\u2014and found them coiled under thin sheets. Her father, a stocky man with a thin mustache, had struck Emile in the face repeatedly\u2014till his face had turned scarlet, and his nose had been cracked in three places. To this day, the white of his left eye was stained with a fleck of blood that had never faded like the doctors had said it would.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile activated the cruise control and sailed straight through four intersections. The man in the backseat breathed hard, and the young woman consoled him with soft words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWe\u2019re getting close,\u201d the young woman said to Emile. \u201cJust keep heading straight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile nodded. The steady stream of A\/C dried the sweat on his face. His pulse stayed high, though. He heard the man say something about how sorry he was and how life was short. Emile didn\u2019t say a thing, but he disagreed: Life was long. Long as this highway. And a person was lucky when they finally ran out of gas. He slugged the final ounce of his coffee. It was sweeter than the rest had been, and he crunched on a few of the sugar granules.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cIt\u2019s okay. \u201cIt\u2019s okay. You\u2019re okay.\u201d The young woman tended to her man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile felt a pang of worry for the girl. Soft murmurs hovered his way as she continued to console him. Emile made out the word \u201clove\u201d a few times, before turning up Janis Joplin. In five hours, his shift would end, and he\u2019d drive home, pull into the carport of his trailer, and head inside. After a coldish shower, he throw some ground beef into a skillet and add whatever was in the fridge to liven it up: peppers, tomatoes, cheese. He\u2019d wash it down with a cold one. Even though he was exhausted after his shift, he couldn\u2019t go straight to bed. He felt that if he went to sleep right away, the next day just began. Usually, he\u2019d flip on the TV and catch an infomercial\u2014something about juicers or knives or mattresses. He always enjoyed the opening minutes of the ads, when they\u2019d show a man or woman having trouble opening a can or hanging a picture, and the scene would be shot in black-and-white. Then, after \u201cthere has to be a better way!\u201d was piped in, the product was introduced, and the screen morphed into color. Sometimes the people became more attractive, too. If the infomercial didn\u2019t entertain him, he\u2019d head outside and inhale the sky. Nothing could be compared to the desert night\u2014no skyscrapers, no clouds, no pollution\u2014and all those clusters of stars sparkling, flickering, all feeding the darkness their light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThis is where it gets a little tricky,\u201d the woman said, leaning forward. \u201cYou have to make a right and then a quick left. After that, just take Saguaro all the way up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cOkay,\u201d Emile said. His heartbeat had steadied, and he could no longer feel his pulse snap in his neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Maybe it was for the best. That\u2019s what he always told himself on this day, May 24<sup>th<\/sup>. After the beating, Fran\u00e7oise\u2019s father had demanded that Emile never see his daughter again, and he\u2019d made sure of it, sending Fran\u00e7oise to an all-girls\u2019 boarding school in Normandy. The days were hard without anything to look forward to, even harder because Fran\u00e7oise never returned his letters. He could still recall scrawling \u201cEcole des Roches\u201d on postcards, envelopes, and packages, and waiting in line at the post office to buy the proper stamps. He\u2019d always splurged for speedy service, because he wanted to occupy her mind as soon and as often as possible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cJust right here,\u201d the young woman said. \u201cRight over there. That one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNice place,\u201d Emile said, taking in the plain stucco house.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWe just rent the top part,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile brought his window back up and shut off the meter, which read forty-two dollars. He opened his door, and the inside lights cut on. The girl dug through her purse, fed her hand through the divider, and offered fifty bucks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The man had already left the cab and was standing up ahead, hunched. The taxi\u2019s headlights lit his body, making him seem pale and sick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Just as the girl was getting out, Emile heard a splat. The girl had fallen hard face-first onto the road. Emile threw his door open and rushed to her side. Her hair was sprawled about the street, and the beep of the open driver\u2019s-side door kept time like a metronome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cAre you okay? Miss? Are you all right?\u201d Emile said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Laughs flew from the man\u2019s mouth. \u201cShit,\u201d he said. \u201cI could hear that from here. It was like thwack!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile hunched over and helped the young woman stand. He inspected her scraped palms and wadded the end of his t-shirt and wiped her hands clean. Emile stared back at the man who was still howling with laughter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cHigh heels and rum,\u201d she said. \u201cNot a great combination.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A thin rill of blood seeped from her chin, and Emile brought his head forward to get a better look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019m okay,\u201d she said. \u201cSeriously.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat a lightweight,\u201d the man shouted. He staggered towards them with change rattling in his pockets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cCan you <em>not<\/em> be an asshole? Just for a minute?\u201d the young woman said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d the man said. A crease ran hard between his eyebrows.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said, angling her gaze towards the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cNo,\u201d Emile said. \u201cDon\u2019t be sorry.\u201d He shoved his arm in front of the girl and took a step towards the man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWhat the fuck is your problem, man? Leave us alone. Why can\u2019t you just be like other cab drivers and sit in your little yellow car and drive around?\u201d The man\u2019s breath was hard with whiskey. \u201cNow, baby, come here!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile wouldn\u2019t let her move, though. His hand was tight around her wrist now, and she wasn\u2019t pulling very hard. He plunged his teeth into his lower lip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">A passenger had once told him the proper way to throw a punch: with the thumb wrapped around the outside, not tucked inside the palm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile tightened his fingers and stared at the man. He brushed over the man\u2019s large nose and patchy sideburns. Emile inspected the man\u2019s features until they no longer made sense\u2014till they blurred into a messy configuration of hair and colors and skin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile could see himself in the man\u2019s glasses, too, his face jaundiced by the streetlights. He cocked his arm back and brought his fist forward, but the man, even intoxicated, saw the punch coming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The man ducked, and came back up, blasting Emile across the jaw. Emile went down. His head smacked the concrete. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in the burn of the yellow streetlight above him, like a distant sun, the rays expanding and shrinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He shut his eyes. The young woman spoke to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">He took a deep breath and listened to his heart whang against his ribs. He\u2019d only received a single letter from Fran\u00e7oise, a thin one that he\u2019d used as a bookmark for years in a dusty copy of Baudelaire<em>\u2019s Les Fleurs Du Mal.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><em>Emile, <\/em>she\u2019d written,<em> Thank you for all your letters. I have read them so many times that the paper now crinkles like money. I think it is best we no longer write and that we go our separate ways. Don\u2019t you think? It has been almost a year. After I left you, I became very sick. I thought it was heartbreak. And it was, but it was also something else\u2014I was pregnant. I had to give the baby up. It was for the best. A child should not be brought into chaos. She was beautiful, though. I barely got to see her, but I can still remember how warm she smelled. She was born on May 24<sup>th<\/sup>. It was rainy that day and cold. I think I would have named her Lucie. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The young woman yelled at her man, told him to stop and to leave. The man continued to laugh. Heat from the concrete warmed Emile\u2019s back, and his thoughts swirled as the young woman\u2019s voice fluttered his way: \u201cHello? Sir? Are you okay? Sir? Sir?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile\u2019s eyes snapped open, and this time he spotted her face under the lamppost, a halo of orange light surrounding her dark hair. She extended her hand, and Emile reached towards her, gripping her fingers. After he was up, she leaned him against the side of the cab, and he caught his breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The man had left them behinds and was trudging up the stairs to his place, still laughing, his hard footsteps thudding against the wood steps. \u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cAre you all right?\u201d she said. \u201cAre you okay? You\u2019re stronger than I thought.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile nodded. \u201cBeen in a few fights now, and I\u2019ve still never landed a punch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The girl traced Emile\u2019s jaw with her forefinger and dug through her purse. She pulled out a small pack of tissues and blotted his cheek. Blood saturated the thin paper, and she tossed it to the ground, where it lingered for a few moments before being stolen by the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cYou\u2019re going to tell me to leave him now, aren\u2019t you?\u2014that I could do better, right?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile didn\u2019t answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cThings aren\u2019t always that simple,\u201d she said. \u201cYou know?\u201d Emile placed his fingertips against his right cheek and grimaced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">The young woman smiled at Emile, and the corners of her eyes creased. One front tooth was chipped, and he wondered how it had happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She looked up toward her place, and Emile\u2019s gaze followed. Red Christmas lights were strung up inside the window, and a few feet above the roofline, bent the moon, in something of a horseshoe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cWell,\u201d she said. \u201cI better be getting inside now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile patted the girl\u2019s shoulder and crossed his arms in front of his chest. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cSienna. Yours?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cEmile.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">She placed her hand between his shoulder blades and swished her fingers up and down on his t-shirt. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she said. \u201cReally, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cI am, too,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile walked around to the driver\u2019s side and plopped onto his seat. He slammed the door, and the beeping finally stopped. He\u2019d gotten so used to it, that he still heard the sound echo in his head. Sienna took to the stairs, gripped the banister, and conquered each step, eventually reaching her second-floor home. Emile cracked the window. \u201cHappy birthday,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">\u201cMerci,\u201d the girl said, offering a small wave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">Emile pulled away, giving himself time to make sure she got in safely. He could still smell her fleeting trace of mint dancing about the cab. Sienna, he thought. \u201cSienna,\u201d he said aloud. Then he put his window all the way down, turned on his rooftop light, and reset the meter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>__________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>Mathieu Cailler<\/strong> is the author of six books. His short stories, poems, and essays have appeared in numerous national and international publications, including <em>The Saturday Evening Post<\/em>, the <em>Los Angeles Times<\/em>, and <em>PANK<\/em>. He is the recipient of a Shakespeare Award, a Short Story America Prize, and a New England Book Festival Award. <em>Heaven and Other Zip Codes<\/em>, his debut novel and most recently published book, has been hailed \u201ca postmodern masterpiece\u201d by Midwest Book Review and was named the winner of the 2021 Los Angeles Book Festival. For more information, please visit <a href=\"http:\/\/mathieucailler.com\">mathieucailler.com.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\"><strong>________<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"alignleft size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"438\" height=\"211\" src=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-15484\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1.jpg 438w, https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/37\/2024\/01\/boudin-logo-1-300x145.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 438px) 100vw, 438px\" \/><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center has-large-font-size\">&lt;&lt; <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/06\/29\/when-mama-was-a-moth-by-nick-caccamo\/\">Back<\/a> <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/2022\/06\/22\/upon-returning-from-a-leadership-convention-in-hawaii-the-superintendent-addresses-the-school-board-of-carlson-county-pennsylvania-by-neil-connelly\/\">Next<\/a> &gt;&gt;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-medium-font-size\">To learn more about submitting your work to <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/boudin-submissions\/\">Boudin<\/a><\/em> or applying to McNeese State University&#8217;s Creative Writing <a href=\"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/mfa-application-submissions\/\">MFA program<\/a>, please visit Submissions for details.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>HIGHWAY 111 Mathieu Cailler __________ Even at 11:59 p.m., the heat still owned Palm Springs. Emile\u2019s shift had started a couple of hours earlier, and he sat in his taxicab, munching on some stale donut holes, waiting for dispatch to inform him of his next pick-up. He tinkered with the radio and absorbed some mundane&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":42,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[243,135],"tags":[75,140,133,26],"class_list":["post-14335","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-boudin-2022","category-boudin-september-22-edition","tag-boudin","tag-mathieucailler","tag-september22edition","tag-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14335","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/42"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14335"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14335\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21325,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14335\/revisions\/21325"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14335"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14335"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mcneese.edu\/thereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14335"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}