Night Ride Home

Once in a while
In a big blue moon
There comes a night like this
Like some surrealist
Invented this fourth of July
Night ride home

Hula girls
And caterpillar tractors in the sand
The ukulele man
The fireworks
This 4th of July
Night ride home

I love the man beside me
We love the open road
No phones till Friday
Far from the overkill
Far from the overload

Back at the bar
The band tears down
But out here in the headlight beams
The silver power lines
Gleam
On this fourth of July
Night ride home

Round the curve
And a big dark horse
Red taillights on his hide
Is keeping right alongside
Rev for stride
Fourth of July
Night ride home

I love the man beside me
We love the open road
No phones till Friday
Far from the undertow
Far from the overload

Once in awhile
In a big blue moon
There comes a night like this
Like some surrealist
Invented this fourth of July
Night ride home
Night ride home
Night ride home
On a night ride home
On a night ride home
Night ride home

- Night Ride Home by Joni Mitchell

 

It was late at night, shortly after he got out of work, when Martin heard sirens careening past him in the dark on his way home, howling into the night, heralding some terrible scene. He'd continued to walk, until he glanced back and saw the smoke was close, so close.


Close enough that it looked like it may be coming from one of many familiar haunts in the area.


It was easy to scale a nearby wall and start moving from rooftop to rooftop, scrambling quickly.


He recognizes it from a distance, and slows. He's been here, stayed here overnight, can pick out exactly which apartment it is that the fires are coming from, and feels his stomach drop to his feet, guts cold.


It's... it's rapidly becoming gutted by fire, and he finds himself running towards the apartment complex with emergency services swarming the scene, yelling loud "'s he okay?! M' frien' lives 'ere, 's he out-"

 

"Kid, you can't-- Hey--!" A police officer grabs his shoulders, trying to hold him back. "You can't go in there, it's not safe."

 

Martin's head turns, gray eyes wide. "H-hey, I'm. I'm not a kid!" He flinches at the contact, trying to pull away. "I-That's my friend's apartment-"

 

"... shit. Do you have a name, some contact information? We're trying to reach someone, but we haven't gotten there yet." He's holding on pretty tight, trying to keep Martin from bolting. "The firefighters are doing their best, don't worry. They'll do everything that can be done in there."

 

"I. Y-yeah. Ben. Benjamin Halverson. 25 years old. Uhm-" He tries to pull away, a little nervously, expression panicked and eyes roaming. "I... I have his phone number? He. He's a programmer, he works from home-"

 

"... That'd be good. I..." Looking at Martin, trying to size him up. "He'd usually be home at this hour?"

 

".....y... yeah. I... Sometimes he goes out, but-" The words hang in the air, and he clutches at his shirt.

 

... sighing deeply. "... come sit down, alright?"

 

"C...can you let go. I... I'll sit down." Martin hugs his arms to his chest.

 

"... sorry, ki-- ..." Sighing. It's heavy work sometimes. "I'm sorry. Alright." Leading him somewhere a little quieter to sit down. "... There was a body in there. We can't prove it was him, but... It's looking pretty likely, right now. We're trying to find his next of kin."

 

"...I. I dunno. He.... never talked about his family? I.. he has a sister, but I don't think they're talking right now?" He chews his lower lip, following the police officer and sitting down, shoulders hunched.

 

"... do you have any way to get in contact with her?"

 

"I... I don't know. I... unless she's married... maybe... maybe she's in the internet? I. Her name's... H..hannah?"

 

"... alright. Yeah. I'll pass that on." He takes out his phone, making a note. "... do you know anything else that might help? Did he have any enemies, or anything like that?"

 

Martin shakes his head, slowly. "N... no. I mean. He almost never left the house. He's... what. Uhm. He's got the thing. Where you're afraid of being outside? But. But he has to go out, because he has to get food-"

He trails off, clutching his shirt as earlier words hit home.

".........there. There was a...."

"You said they. They found."

His voice trails off into a choked noise of distress.

 

"... shit," the cop says softly. "Alright. Hey... hey, it's... I know it's hard. Stay with me, alright?"

 

Martin hiccups, shoulders starting to heave with sobs. "Oh god."

 

"... I know. I know..." He hesitates. "... I've lost a few friends, too. But... Maybe you can help make things right, for him. For his memory. Just stay with me..."

 

Martin nods, eyes still dry even as sobs choke his throat. "I. Y. Okay. I. I'm. Fuck."