The Ameribahn

By Gregory Thompson

Micah kicked dirt on the fire and it fizzled out. Smoke curled to the top of the viaduct and spread out around the edge of the road above. He held his birth certificate into the sunlight and read it again.

MICAH ROBERTS. BORN SEPT. 4, 2029 AT CHICAGO MEMORIAL HOSPITAL. Tomorrow he would be seventeen and the day when he'd cross the AmeriBahn and tack his certificate next to the three others posted on a lonely wooden stake in the median.

He closed his eyes and listened to the tuned engines of Mercedes, Porches, and the occasional domestic sports car fly by at speeds well over 100 MPH.

This music put him to sleep.

As Micah lay staring at the ceiling of the overpass the next morning, he heard giggling headed his way. His stomach tightened. A male voice. More giggling, then outright laughter. Micah smiled as he rolled out from under the viaduct to meet his friends.

"How's it by you?" Alan asked, wearing his prized leather jacket and three days beard. His metal leg implant clinked against the pebbles.

Jessica's brown hair bounced as she followed Alan. She smiled to Micah and put both her hands on Alan's shoulders. "Hey, Micah--what's the haps?"

Micah slapped his friend's hands. "Nothing much. Just psychin' up."

"Think you're ready?" Alan asked.

"Don't know, but I got all this adrenaline stored up for this occasion." Micah retrieved his duffelbag. "Come," he said, "let's go eat a meal."

The sign read:

THE AMERIBAHN BYWAY

est. 2025 for a better America

Minimum speed is 100 MPH

DRIVE SAFELY AND BUCKLE UP

They sat under the sign and Micah built a fire. Twenty feet above them a Jet-train blurred by without a sound and Micah had to hover over the fire to block the wind. No one spoke as Micah cooked stewed eggs and dehydrated bacon. He served the food on tin plates and handed them to Alan and Jessica.

"Micah, why are you going through with this?" Jessica asked. She put the plate on the ground and stared at Micah.

He shrugged and ate his own meal. "Because I want to."

"But. you're 16."

Micah scoffed. "Don't forget I'll be seventeen tomorrow." He looked from Alan to Jessica, then back to Alan. They were lovers, he could tell. Both were 17, so he supposed it was all right. They better be careful though: ever since the Population law, sex was becoming less and less prominent in America's culture. Pretty soon, it would be wiped out altogether. One baby could end their lives being free, and begin their life anew in a baby camp. But Micah couldn't understand why Jessica would choose someone like Alan to have sex with. There were much better people, like himself for instance, to have sex with. Micah could be a great lover, if given the chance. Maybe someday, Jessica will come to her senses.

Micah snickered.

"What's so funny?" Alan scowled.

"I think that you put Jessica up to talking me out of my event because you secretly don't want me to go."

Alan waved his hand. "Whatever. I don't care either way. You could jump off the Panama Skyway and I still would think the same."

Micah stood.

"So, why you doin' it?" Jessica tilted her head and frowned.

"For love, I suppose."

Micah held on longer than he thought, then let loose with a belly-full of laughter. Out of the corner of his eye, Micah could see even Alan smiling.

Jessica flipped her hair back and stomped toward the viaduct. She leaned up against it and looked off in the direction of the AmeriBahn sign.

Alan stood and packed Micah's stuff. He picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. "She likes you ya know."

Micah looked down. "I had a feeling, but I figured she was too much in love with you to see it."

They started to the edge of the AmeriBahn. Alan turned. "You coming!" He yelled to Jessica.

Without a word, she began walking.

"We're not in love," Alan stated. "It's just a convenience thing. I like to have sex with her, she likes to have sex with me, so it's convenient to have sex together."

"One day it will have to end."

"Yeah, I know."

"And that day may be sooner than you think." Micah broke away and joined Jessica.

"Here's some trivia for you, Micah," Alan said, poking out his thumb at the passing cars. It was a joke, Micah knew, but a bad one. "What is the average number of cars that speed by any given spot on the AmeriBahn in an hour?"

Micah had studied nearly every piece of material on the Byway, but he never came across any statistic for a question like that. "I don't know."

"Approximately 1,200."

Micah looked out onto the AmeriBahn. That couldn't be. Sure, many cars raced by them in the minute they stood on the shoulder/median, but there's was no way 1,200 cars were going to drive by them.

"That means one car every three seconds."

Alan shrugged. "If that's what it means..."

"Why don't you stay for an hour and count them?" Jessica spoke and Micah turned his head to her. "You could think about it some more." She laid a hand on his forearm and he saw the pleading behind her eyes that said, Don't go.

"Why are you so worried about me?"

Alan sat down. "What makes you so sure that I am?"

"Because you're here."

He started to say something, but Alan shut his mouth.

Micah smiled to himself. "This was my decision to make and I'm going to go through with it. I have to prove this to myself."

With a running start, Jessica ran towards him with her arms outstretch. Micah caught her out of the corner of his eye, and knew he would move, but she still caught his left side, and this was enough to plant his back into the ground.

"What are you thinking!" Micah propped his back up. "You might have injured me!"

"Good! Then maybe you wouldn't have gone!" She stood over him and he thought she looked very powerful in that position. "If it's going to take me to say it, then I am: neither of us want you to put yourself in danger by doing that stupid jaunt."

"I never said that," Alan piped up.

"Oh come on. Don't be a man, you've got emotions and you did say that. He's your friend just as he's mine."

Micah hopped up. "Well, that was a nice little speech. Ever think of going on a lecture circuit for misunderstanding, don't-know-crap individuals? What makes you think that you two are going to make a difference in what I do or don't do?" He pointed to the hill behind him. "What in the hell do I have to go back to? I've got nothing! I go back up that hill and return to what? My codeined dad? Or better yet, how about if I return to my schizophrenic mom. Boy, I sure have the happy home. Makes my life worth it."

"So you want to die?"

Micah looked at Alan. "You have no confidence in me do you? I've spent an entire year studying this AmeriBahn. This path I'm taking I know like the color of my hair.

"Go if you want; stay if you wish to watch." Micah turned to the highway and dropped off the hill and onto the shoulder. He peered back up on the hill. Alan and Jessica stared at him, then decided to sit on the concrete wall.

Micah turned his head, then smiled. They do care a little, he thought.

It was time.

He slung the duffelbag over his shoulder and made sure it was secured. He reached his hand in the coat pocket and confirmed his birth certificate remained. If he didn't have that, then none of this would be worth it. When his hand touched the paper, he sighed relief.

There was a time when his mother, when she was normal, told him to always look both ways before crossing the Jet-train tracks. Micah supposed now that it also pertained to the AmeriBahn. He wondered if the other thirty people who tried to cross the Byway were told that. Surely--

"Stop," he whispered. His mind stalled him and it was the movement of his foot onto the pavement that set his mind screaming...and his body forward.

The first lane was the slow lane, so Micah knew that he had plenty of time to make a lane decision. But after he crossed the second lane, it was fast paced from there.

SSSSRRRRRRRROOOOOOOONK!

Micah could only tell that the car was black. He watched it disappear over the slight hill a quarter-mile ahead. And then the action started.

He caught the engine of a car barreling down his lane and instinctively hopped to the second lane. The car raced past him and left a pocket of air. He had four more lanes to go and these last four were packed. Micah counted forty cars within ten seconds. Maybe this WAS a bad idea, he thought.

From the back of his mind, something screamed at him to get his ass moving, to get to the next lane. He turned and saw his two friends waving at him. Their mouths moved frantically, but he couldn't hear them.

"WHAT!" he yelled.

Micah saw them fiercely pointing to his left. Without looking, he could sense something hulking headed at him in lane two. He slowly shifted his body around. There, his stomach became a pit.

The semi was white, but mostly a blur. He could hear faintly the barge-type horn commanding him to get out of the way. Micah knew the semi wasn't going to stop, let alone slow down. His eyes began to turn his surroundings into an unfocused mess. Micah rubbed them, but this made his head pound. The inside of his throat pulsated and something hot forced it's way up and out of his mouth.

The last thing he heard before he fainted was a rapid metallic clink coming louder towards him.

Micah woke while Alan slapped him. His cheek burned and he swiped Alan's hand away.

"What the hell you doin'?"

Alan slid his implant up and stood over Micah. "You are so damn stupid!"

Micah glanced around and saw Jessica standing near the edge of the AmeriBahn...or on the median. He stared at Alan and propped himself up.

"Either we're on the shoulder," he said. "or we are in the middle of the AmeriBahn."

Sadly, Alan said, "Choice B."

"Serious?"

"Don't be dumb: look around."

Micah sat on the concrete median and surveyed both Byways on each side of him; he looked at the hill Jessica stood on; and he saw the viaduct he slept under the night before.

"So we made it?"

Alan nodded.

"But was it worth it to you? Usually, those who have made it tack up their birth certificate on the post," Micah said.

"Is that what all this was for? Just to have a piece of paper on a wooden post? My mission was much more deeper and practical: I saved your life."

"I fainted though, so I never really crossed anything under my own power. You did it for me." Micah looked at the ground. "I wouldn't be worthy to associate my name with them." He pointed to the other certificates already up.

Alan limped to Micah and grabbed the certificate out of his hands. He reached into the duffelbag and removed a hammer and three nails. With six whacks, the certificate was sitting next to the others, though just a little higher, as if to signify a better person. Micah blushed.

As Alan walked back, Micah noticed he was favoring his artificial leg.

"What happened? You're limping."

Alan shrugged. "I broke a few wire-ligaments darting cars."

"You should have stayed on the shoulder, instead of risking your own life."

"Just because I lost my leg trying to cross this damn thing, doesn't mean I lost all my strength. I could still whip you in a leg race." Alan smiled and tsked.

Micah popped up. "You tried to cross the AmeriBahn? How come you never told me?"

"Never asked, and I would have never told you anyway."

"I won't bother you about it then." Micah walked to the edge of the median. "But about this foot race..."

"Yes?"

"First one to the other side gets to kiss Jessica."

Alan evened up with Micah.

"You're on," Alan said.

The End

"I am a 25-year-old retail manager writing since I has 12. I've recently sold a thriller screenplay and my play "The Dream Man" has opened locally and received moderate acclaim. Feel free to e-mail me."

E-mail: gregthomp@lycosmail.com