Friday, the 8th of July. Washington, PA to Chilicothe, OH . I don't know what I expected to feel afterwards. I remember waking up and looking over at Kate still asleep, twisted into the sheets. I wanted to grab her and hold her but I didn't want to wake her and I didn't want her to think I thought we were married just because we fucked. I had that sense of vertigo you get early in a relationship where you think you're really close to someone, like that you're melted into them somehow, but you still don't know them. I didn't trust myself to hug her awake so I lay there, watching her, thinking about wrapping myself around her so that there couldn't be any misunderstanding, any awkward conversation. I'd known as well as she had that the glass bubble around Else World would shatter if we fucked, and I hadn't cared. But now I was feeling the sharpness of the shattered pieces. I had done it again... I started to get out of bed.

After she finished filing for her unemployment over the phone, Kate came and sat down on the corner of the bed.
"They say they're only gonna give me $70 a week," she said. "That's half what I thought I'd get."
"Why so low?"
"I don't know. I'm gonna call them back tomorrow. That guy sounded like a fuckin idiot... I feel like shit."
"Let's get out of here," I said.
While I was tying the bike up, a guy materialized at my shoulder. I don't know how much time we spent together, but it was one of those instances on a trip when you just kind of intersect someone's life in a way that gives you a glimpse of history. He was a non-descript, middle-aged, middle build guy in a jean jacket. His wife, who was bigger than he was, was packing the station wagon they drove. The conversation started because of the bike, the way they always start.

I probably wasn't thinking about that driving through Ohio but I did think a lot like that on the bike. Your mind loses track and sifts through all the big ideas like it's moving through a filing cabinet. I was probably thinking about the procreative nature of the sex act and how barring a piece of well-rolled latex I could have exploded into Kate the night before and we would have had to live together with the consequences as man and woman. It didn't sound too bad actually. But then it never sounds bad.

It was getting dark about nine. When we got back on the bike I swear it felt like I had never ridden before. I didn't say anything. We hopped on and Kate was amazed our stuff hadn't been stolen. She definitely has the city deep in her now. We got back onto the mountain road. The first turn was like a switchback and I was scared I was going to lose the bike. I hit the brakes coming into it. I had the same sensation I got in the tunnels where the pavement seems to rise up towards you, call you to let go into it. It's a bad feeling. I wobbled us through the turn. I felt Kate pinch my waist and I gave the bike some gas, hoping the speed would snap me out of the trance.

The guy told me about a couple places but they were kind of in the opposite direction from where I wanted to go. Kate came back and they exchanged pleasantries. The guy was a NASCAR dude. A black baseball cap with a curved bill, mustache, t-shirt, chevy. I got some satisfaction out of him and Kate making small talk. This is going to be a horribly stupid generalization but most people are really freakin nice. I have a Polish friend from New York who's had a tough life. All kinds of bad shit has happened to him and I look up to him for it. One time he turned to me and said:
"People ask me why I like America and I tell them cause it's so free."