Fur for Brains

"You have fur for brains." The woman in the front seat looks back at me accusingly. I have just finished shredding a piece of paper I found on the floor. We have been in the car a long time. I have to pee and whine softly, but the woman keeps driving.

A song plays over the car speaker, and the woman sings along listlessly.

"In spite of ourselves, we'll end up a-sittin' on a rainbow
Against all odds, honey, we're the big door prize
We're gonna spite our noses right off of our faces
There won't be nothin' but big old hearts dancin' in our eyes."

When the music stops, the woman says, "That was our song," to no one. She pushes a button, and the car is quiet, except for the sound of the tires.

"Taco Bell, Taco Bell, Taco Bell," she says in time to bumps in the street. "This is a WPA road," she remarks to me. Roosevelt had it built during the Depression to give people work. It's a damn good road. Better than what they produce today." I say nothing.

We continue driving. It’s bright out, and the sun shines in the window. I close my eyes and start to pant softly.

The woman brakes the car suddenly when another vehicle pulls in front of her without warning. "What an asshole!" she mutters. The trailer she is pulling behind her small car jerks erratically and causes it to shimmy. "What an asshole," she repeats as she slows the car's speed.

The woman starts talking. "Did I ever tell you about when I was young? I drove all over the Southeast by myself. When I went to graduate school at Mississippi State, I loaded all my crap in the car and drove 270 miles without thinking about it. I drove from Atlanta to Athens after going to midnight concerts without thinking about it. I drove 713 miles from Vero Beach FL to Huntsville AL when my idiot husband threw his back out."

"But guess what? I'm not young anymore. I'm 70 years old, and my cataract surgery didn't do squat, and it's downright disgusting to be pulling a trailer loaded with my few worldly possessions to move into a crappy apartment on the wrong side of town."

The woman's eyes get wet, and she blinks rapidly but keeps driving.

I sniff the car floor for more paper to shred but only find a used Kleenex. I quietly tear it into pieces.

Finally, we pull into a parking lot next to a small two-story building. A few scrubby trees grow around the perimeter. She pulls forward and back several times, trying to get the car and trailer into a space, but finally gives up and stops in the middle of the parking lot.

"Certainly, not what we are used to," she says, "but you will survive. At least we aren't being bombed or flooded. Guess this is a first-world problem for both of us."

I wag my tail and hop out of the car. Instantly, I squat and pee in the parking lot. "Ha! she says. "Thanks for christening the new homestead."

I walk over and lick her foot. She bends down and hugs me tightly. "I can't think of anyone I would rather spend my life with Fur for Brains. We will be just fine." I lay down in the dirt and close my eyes while the woman unloads the trailer, softly humming, "In Spite of Ourselves."

— opelikakat