Traffic Revelations [Rough Draft]

Traffic Revelations

    “And when you see the face of God you will die and there will be nothing left of you except the Godly man and Godly woman. And prayers will be eternally upon your lips and there will be nothing more to look for except God. And this is all a dream with an end that––”

    Alright, who’s the idiot that was fudging with my radio presets? It was all very precise to how I wanted it. One was my go to for classic alternative rock, always the safest bet. Two was my alternative alternative rock station in case I didn’t like the song on One. Three and Four were pop music stations that I only listened to for the sake of others. Wait, those are my FM stations, this must be AM. I don’t think I’ve ever set any AM stations. The car salesman, or at least the guy I bought the car from, told me that dealerships preset FM country stations and AM Christian stations because of various polls and studies. I wasn’t really listening because I didn’t care, I was more worried about the car.
I told him the seat looked too close to the wheel.
He said that the adjustment lever was broken.
I showed him that I couldn’t fit past the wheel.
He told me that it wasn’t his problem I was too fat.
I told him to fuck off.
He shoved the chair back with force.
It’s still broken and a metal rod is sticking out through the side of the seat, but at least I fit.

    When we had made the deal official, he shook my hand just long enough to make me worry if I had grabbed wet naps on the way out that day. He might have been right about the car being a classic beauty despite it’s current appearance in his posting of it in the paper, but my knowledge and appreciation of cars is about as full as my pockets were when I bought it.

Sitting in the traffic of the parking structure, I look around and make a list of the things I know about my car. It’s a faded red. The seats are uncomfortable leather. It smells. There’s a layer of dust that’s so engrained in the clear plastic that I can’t read the digital display underneath that shows the time and station number. When I opened the glove compartment for the first time it smelled like the retirement home room that my mother died in. Radio reception would probably be stronger if the antenna didn’t look like a coat hanger does after being used to jimmy a car lock.


    “…through this great sea of blackness that I’ve penetrated and I went through this last segment with the dark serpentines and I penetrated to the most high God and you will believe you’re mad, that you’ve gone insane. There are many wonders sitting there today thinking they’re insane, that they saw something that’s unreal. But they see it through the light of God, the way I saw it through the light of God. And when you see the face of God you die.”

    Ambient noise is playing underneath his ramblings to make it more…More what? Poignant? Moving? This guy could describe my car with the same emotion and same music and it would probably sound like something important. But this car would still be the same piece of shit. And when you see the granola bar wrappers on the dirty mats you will die and there will be nothing left of you except the Driver man and Driver woman who don’t care about the trash in your car. And the car wash is too expensive to clean the mud off the tires, the tires of your life. And I’m penetrating through the darkness of this parking structure with the black, serpentine SUV in front of me. And when you see the bends of your antenna, you die.

    I actually should give this preacher credit because he’s had me listening for this long at least. I hit the AM/FM button to switch over to my One preset.

    “…and when you see the face of God you die!” Damn it to Hell, I haven’t moved an inch in this damn traffic and now my radio won’t switch over. Do I deal with silence or more of this lunatic? I push in the volume button in to stop the nonsense ravings.

    “…the face of the Godhead three. A face of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost and when you see this face you die.” Oh, come on, I’m sick of this damn, brainless goof! I try pushing in the power button, the AM/FM button, the One button and the Two button, but still get nothing. That is to say, I get the “face of God” thrown back at me again and again.

Look, preacher, you’re performance is getting goddamn stale. At least real actors do multiple takes with various techniques. Like, right now, to show my frustration, I’ll honk the horn and shift violently in my seat, but I won’t keep doing the same thing repetitiously. I swear, you’re like itching a bug bite, the more I try to get rid of you the more annoying you becoming. No wonder I don’t listen to the goddamned AM stations. Plus, you have it backwards. I won’t see the face of God and then die. I’ll be dead already when I see the face of God. 

    “…you will not be dead before you see the face of God.” The radio goes silent. I redistribute my weight towards my legs with an amused smirk, the coincidence of words shaking off the veil that was draped across my mind. Did my radio die completely or was the broadcast over? If the broadcast was over, there wouldn’t be silence. Damn it to hell, I guess my radio is really broken. Piece of shit car. I push my foot harder on the break to tense up all the muscles in my leg. And my radio is a piece of shit and my car is a piece of shit and this black SUV in front of me that hasn’t budged in ten minutes is a piece of shit and this Goddamn preacher is a piece of––

    “BUT BECAUSE OF YOUR HARD AND IMPENITENT HEART YOU ARE STORING UP WRATH FOR YOURSELF ON THE DAY WHEN GOD’S RIGHTEOUS JUGDMENT WILL BE REVEALED.” I jump in my seat and cover my ears at the intense volume of the radio and turn the volume knob in every direction to try and stop it. My eyes are closed at the shock and noise when I push every button my fingers land on, all of them at the same time.

    “WHEN YOU SEE THE FACE OF GOD YOU DIE.” What the hell? I know people are staring at me. Shit. I put the car in park and turn off the car, my foot still on the brake.

    “…YOU DIE WHEN YOU SEE THE FACE OF GOD YOU DIE WHEN YOU SEE THE FACE OF GOD YOU DIE WHEN YOU SEE THE FACE OF GOD YOU DIE WHEN YOU…” My hands grow hot around ears and it feels like I have a bloody nose, but everything’s dry. The car speakers are making that static fart noise when they’re about to be blown out and the bass of the voice and the volume are working together to shake the car and pound at my rib cage. When I tear my eyes open, I see the SUV in front of me is white instead of black and pulsing red and blue lights are assaulting my eyes.

    “AND HE WILL SAY TO THOSE ON THE LEFT “DEPART FROM ME YOU CURSED INTO THE ETERNAL FIRE PREPARED FOR THE DEVIL AND HIS ANGELS…” There’s a wetness against my mouth and the pounding on my lungs feels rhythmic. Something tingles at my feet, like the pins and needle feeling when blood stops circulating. The pins work their way up my legs but the ones at my feet start to push harder and harder, as if they are pushing all the way through my foot. The penetrations work their way up my legs and hips, shoving into my spinal cord and cascading over the back of my head and down towards my face. When the needles bury into my eyes, I see the Godly woman in all white with a set of wings atop two snakes around a staff pinned on her chest. She bends down and touches her lips against my dry ones, her blonde hair brushing against my unmoving cheeks and neck. The kiss is a familiar one of “goodbye.”

    A darkness slides into vision from my peripherals like a serpent. A pain erupts at my heart as if the sting of every stubbed toe, every paper cut, every headache, every violent shout, every punch, every divorce, every night spent alone is pushed into one syringe that’s plunged into the last piece of flesh operating in my body. And the last thing I see is the digital clock on my dash, but there’s no time displayed. And I wonder how long I’ve been in this car, how long this agony has lasted. And it feels like an eternity. And the lips are gone. And I’m sorr––