TrOLL Road



  TrOLL Road

  By Tina Stickles

  Copyright 2015 Tina Stickles

  All rights reserved.

  Thank you for purchasing this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  Acknowledgements

  I just want to say thank you to my husband, Terry for his support. I also want to thank my friends who critiqued and proofread this for me: Martha, Jennifer, and Janice. I owe a huge thank you to Janice Ernest for your mentoring, and the biggest thanks to the One who made it possible.

  “Come on!” Toby turned to give the driver of the little blue Honda a dirty look as he passed. I do not have time for this. It was already late Sunday afternoon and he had another four hours to drive. He shook his head and muttered as he changed lanes to avoid being stuck behind an eighteen wheeler going five miles under the speed limit.

  Toby had had no intentions of going to his parents’ house for their little get together this weekend. He was a busy man. Besides, he hated getting caught in the middle of all the drama that was an inevitable part of visiting his family. As usual, though, he was guilted into it. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to get out of going. Somehow they always made him out to be some self-centered creep who did not care about his family. I am sick of their mind games. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel while thinking about the weekend he had endured.

  He let out an exasperated breath. He had reports to turn in at work tomorrow. He would be up late tonight finishing them now. He had wanted to see his Kate, his girlfriend, this weekend. He thought maybe he would at least get a few minutes with her this evening, but obviously that was not going to happen. Thanks, family.

  Breaking through the traffic, Toby stomped on the gas pedal, sending the needle on the speedometer running. He had to try to make good time. There was a new turnpike that stretched almost all the way through the state, from south to north. He was told it would cut some time off his trip. Maybe he would be able to salvage some of his evening.

  Ding ding. Toby reached for his phone and checked the text message which had just come through. It was from Kate. She wanted to know what time he would make it home. He glanced at the road, back to his phone, then to the road again, typing with the thumb of his right hand. “Will be late gettin’ home. Wnt b able to c u. sorry.”

  A horn blared, startling Toby. He almost dropped the phone as he looked up in time to see he was drifting into the other lane. He jerked the steering wheel, veering back into his own lane. His heart started beating again, and he threw up his hand and hollered, “What!” at the driver of the car that quickly passed him. He hit the send button, and dropped the phone on the seat beside him.

  Twenty minutes later, Toby took the on-ramp to the turnpike. Here we go. Maybe I can start getting some miles behind me now. Once on the road, he saw a toll booth and slowed as he approached. It had been a while since he had been on one of these, but he thought he remembered paying seventy-five cents the last time. Of course, that had been forever. He usually tried to avoid getting onto any roads where he would have to pay a toll. He dug the change out of his pocket as he pulled up to the kiosk. He noticed the sign as he came to a stop. “$3.00”

  “Are you kidding me?” Toby grumbled and dumped his change into the slot. He shot a dirty look at the kiosk on the other side, which was occupied by a bored looking middle aged man. He hit the gas and his tires squealed as he tore away from the toll booths.

  Crazy! $3.00. What a rip off. He hoped he wouldn’t hit any more toll booths before he reached the end of this road. If he had realized he was travelling the ‘Golden Road’ he would have gone to the ATM for some cash. He had been sure the toll wouldn’t be that high. Besides, he was in too much of a hurry to get out of that town, and anything else he needed he could get at the gas station with his card.

  Toby popped a CD into the CD player and turned up the volume. The car filled with the roar from his favorite death metal band. His head bobbed up and down and he drummed on the steering wheel with his hands. When the roar ended, he joined in the words of the song, a rhythmic, pulsating protest to life and society.

  He continued this way, driving, singing, trying to clear his head of the distractions he had had to deal with this weekend. You would think his parents would have been so happy to see him they would have kept their complaints about his lifestyle to themselves. It had been over a year, after all.

  What was their problem anyway? He worked hard, had a home and a car, didn’t ask anyone for anything. He was starting to go places in his career. He didn’t use drugs. Yes, he drank. Yes, he loved his women. Didn’t he deserve a little something for all his hard work? He got respect at work. Did his family respect him? No. All he got from them was lectures about how he was living his life, lectures about coming around more often. Like all that made him want to hang around.

  “Aargh!” he roared, though not along with the song. He gripped the steering wheel to keep from hitting it. This car cost him too much money to start taking his anger out on it. Why couldn’t his family just chill? Yeah, they were happy to see him. Everything was fine when he first arrived. They had started making comments, guilt trips, Saturday evening. By Sunday morning, his lifestyle was being called into question. He had never been so ready to get out of there. Now, just thinking about it was making his blood boil again. He took several deep breaths to calm himself.

  Toby looked around at the landscape trying to clear his head. It was nothing, he thought. This place was desolate. He could not wait to get back to the city - the city with its towers reaching to the sky, light reflecting off the windows like jewels, the pulse on the streets, and the city with a constant energy flow, people moving, living, climbing, and the constant stream of activity. He loved the city.

  But this place! He had driven for miles with nothing but pavement, some mountains in the distance, and of course, trees, standing alongside the road, an audience to the only activity in this God-forsaken land – the traffic passing on the highway. He was bored to tears.

  Toby muttered under his breath, skipped a couple of tracks on his CD, and then turned up the volume. Again, he drummed his hands on the steering wheel and sang along.

  Ahead, Toby a large green sign loomed announcing, “Toll Booth Ahead.” He had not reached the end of the turnpike. He thought there was still an hour and a half to go. He did not remember seeing a toll station at this point in the road in the directions he had looked up online.

  There was the toll booth ahead. “Great.” They had a booth at the south end of the road, and one at the half-way point, and this price was ridiculous. He was going to run out of change if there was another booth at the north end.

  He thought about the toll roads in the city where he lived. There was a special lane for people with toll passes. All they had to do was drive through. There was a camera that would read their pass. If they did not have a toll pass, a bill would come in the mail. In fact, some of the new ones did not take change at all.

  No problem. Toby took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he dropped his change into the slot. The breathing thing was a technique he used often to keep his temper in check. He was left with only sixty-five cents, which he deposited into the console.

  He glanced at the next kiosk as he began to pull out. An older man stood watching him, a blank expression on his face. Toby felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There was something creepy about that man. He couldn’t place it, but those nearly black eyes looking through the window at him were like empty, hollow wells. Toby blinked, tore his gaz
e away and hit the gas as the gate lifted to allow passage.

  As he tore out of there, he sucked in a deep breath, realizing he had forgotten to take one when that weirdo back there started staring at him. He had to get out of this place. This never-ending, backwoods road was starting to get to him, obviously.

  Back on track again and head cleared, Toby realized his was the only car on the road. Huh, he thought. He remembered seeing an exit before that last booth. Maybe everyone else had exited there. He thought he remembered that being the last town on this road. He had not seen any more exits or on-ramps since he had passed that last pay station. What was the name of that town? He had not paid attention.

  He drummed his hand on the steering wheel as he sped up to 85. He had not seen a cop in a long time either – probably because there was so much less traffic in this area. Maybe he could make good time after all. The needle crept over to 90, then 95.

  Toby thought about Kate. She was a classic. Long, smooth blonde hair, clear blue eyes, tall, and just thin enough. So, maybe he was a bit superficial, but that was alright. He was young and made good money. He could afford to be