In Laymon's Terms

Richard remembered climbing in and playing among those same ruins with his brother, and he still cherished that youthful sense of wonder. But they wouldn’t let you do that anymore. He had to admit, it was better to have the sites preserved, but looking at the ruins was not the same as being in them. His children had lost interest in just looking.

That was why they were off their planned course now, far down a lonely, semi-paved road in the middle of Arizona’s Navajo reservation. When they’d stopped for lunch at the Burger King in town, an old Indian had heard him talking to his kids about the ruins and had interrupted them to tell Rich about a remote Anasazi site he knew about. It was far off the regular tourist route, but there were ruins there that a person could walk through and sit in, just like the ancients themselves had. With only a couple more days before getting back home, Rich was eager for anything that would grab his kids’ interest, so he happily jotted down directions and thanked the man before finishing his meal.

“Billy, get your stupid dog off me!” The sound of Sally’s angry voice drew Richard’s attention back to the cramped minivan.

“Hey,” Billy replied, “Scruffy is not stupid, he’s a smart dog!”

Sally shoved Scruffy away with her foot and said, “He’s not smart enough to know when to leave me alone. I’m trying to read.”

Richard was about to say something when he heard a loud BANG from the back of the van, and he felt it lurch towards the shoulder. “God damn it!”

“What was that?” John asked.

“Flat tire I think. Hold on.” Richard fought the wheel to turn the van onto the shoulder, slowing steadily. When they finally rolled to a stop, a bit further off the shoulder than he had intended, he looked back to check on the rest of his family. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

“I think so.”

Next to him, Sonia looked shaken. A bit pale, but unhurt. He nodded to himself, shut off the engine, then opened the door and got out. The hot, dry, Arizona air assaulted him as he walked around the back of the van. He heard the side door slide open before he got around the corner.

“Everybody stay in the car.”

Heedless, John hopped out and bent down to look at the tire. Ready to start his junior year of high school next month, John was at the height of his rebelliousness.

“I said stay inside,” Richard repeated.

Ignoring him, John pointed at the loose flaps of rubber that had once been a tire. “Wow, what’d we hit?”

“I didn’t see anything on the road,” Rich answered, giving up.

Sonia rolled down her window and stuck her head out to see for herself. “How bad does it look, Rich?”

“Well, it’s flat.”

“Flat? It’s damn near shredded!” John added.

Rich stood up, sighed, and looked around. There was nothing in sight but Pinion Pines, Joshua trees, and the hardy desert undergrowth that grew in this rocky, sandy dirt. Beyond that, nothing but distant mountains.

“Well, everybody out. Sonia, pop the tail door please. John, help me get the spare.”

“Okay.”

The van was packed solid with luggage, and they had to pile most of it on the ground before they could reach the floor to look for the access panel to the spare.

“Rich,” Sonia asked, “why don’t you just call triple-A?”

“It’s just a flat tire, Sonia,” he answered, failing to keep the irritation out of his voice. He didn’t need any arguments now. He was already close to the edge. “I’ve changed flat tires before.”

John tugged at the carpet that lined the back of the van as Rich added the last of their bags to Mount Luggage.

“Um, there’s no spare under here, Dad. Just the lug wrench under the back seat.”

“What?” He looked under the carpet, then bent down and looked under the van. “Christ. Here it is, underneath,” he sighed.

“I’ll get it,” John said, with an amused air in his voice. He lay down on his back and slid himself under the car.

“Hey, Dad...there’s a problem,” John said.

“What now?”

John crawled out, pulling the spare with him. “Something must have bounced up and punctured it.” Sure enough, there was a ragged gouge in the tire. Flat and useless.

Rich heaved a weight-of-the-world sigh. “Fuck. Why would they leave the spare exposed to the elements like that?”

“Rich, please don’t curse in front of the kids.”

He looked up, distracted. “Sorry.”

Billy was wandering around exploring with Scruffy while Sally sat on a rock, reading her magazine.

“Sally, watch your brother.” Rich instructed her. “Billy, don’t wander off; come back here.”

“It’s Will—stop calling me Billy. I’m too old for that.”

“Not now, Billy,” Sonia answered. “Just stay by the van.”

Rich stared at the two flat tires, considering his options.