Jacob stretched, half from stiffness, half from boredom. How long had they been driving? It seemed like a long time since the sun had gone down. He watched as a road sign neared them, one of those green ones with mile counts to various exits and towns. There was one line on it— it looked like two words and an '8', but he hadn't been paying attention, and it flashed by too fast for his eyes to really focus. He was distracted by a light sense of deja vu, then by a gentle poke from behind him.
"Mom, are we there yet?"
Danny was kicking the seat in front of him again. Jacob shifted uncomfortably. "Mom, he's kicking my seat. Tell him to stop."
She didn't even look at him. "Danny, don't do that. And Jacob, you need to be quiet. It's been a long trip and I'm tired of resolving the same arguments."
"I didn't do anything, I just wanted him to stop! It's annoying! Why am I in trouble?"
"Are we the-e-e-e-ere yet?"
"Danny, no, we're not there yet. And Jacob, you're not in trouble. You just need to be more tolerant."
Jacob glowered at nothing in particular. Danny puffed out his cheeks and made a mildly annoying noise.
Jacob was unwilling to admit it, but he was wondering how long this was going to take himself. They had been driving for what seemed like hours, although it was hard to keep track of time in the dark. Certainly it was late, and he was tired. Maybe he could get to sleep.
If he could just fall asleep, he reasoned, it would be over in no time. He closed his eyes and leaned to one side, resting his head against the window. A rattling hum vibrated through his skull, which he valiantly ignored for all of a minute before sitting up and resuming what he felt was surely a world-record-setting stare out the window.
The way the illumination from the headlights played on the surroundings was mesmerizing. He entertained himself for a few moments by focusing on the most distant object he could see and watching as it grew closer and closer before disappearing behind the car. This game, he found, wore thin after the fourth or fifth iteration.
His mind wandered from one thought to another. He briefly thought about what time it could be, and gazed blankly at the digital clock for several moments before registering that it was blinking 12:00. He thought he remembered setting it, but maybe they had changed batteries or something and it went back to being unset. He wasn't really sure how that worked.
Jacob found himself regretting using his phone earlier in the day. He could have read a book or something then, a luxury he could now ill afford- it was too dark to read easily, and it was a hassle to find the right one in the dark. He rubbed his eyes. Why couldn't he use his phone, anyway?
He glanced at it, sitting between the passenger and driver seats. It was plugged in, but when he tried to turn it on, it flashed the "low battery" screen that normally prompted him to charge it. Dead, he thought, puzzled. Maybe the charger was broken. He shifted in his seat again, cursing cheap electronic accessories and all their ancestors, and his train of thought moved elsewhere.
Time passed, sort of. Anna complained about being hungry. Jacob wanted to throttle her- this had to be the hundredth time she had said that. Surely, he thought, they had to be close. Where were they going, again? They weren't going to reach Chicago tonight, he remembered- they were stopping in some other town first. Something Bird. Flying Bird, maybe? He considered asking his mom, but found himself unable to work up the energy.
He looked out the window again, hoping, praying for any minor entertainment. His groggy mind cleared for a moment as he noticed another sign approaching. He read it:
Falling Sparrow - 8
Except it wasn't an eight. He blinked and tried to read it again, but it was already behind them. What had it been? It almost looked like an eight, but it hadn't been. It was sideways. One of those infinity symbols? Maybe a typo, he thought. But on a road sign? That was odd. Maybe-
"Mom, are we there yet?"
His train of thought was interrupted by Danny's voice, accompanied by a soft jab in his lower back. "Mom, he's kicking my seat. Tell him to stop."
"Danny, don't do that. And Jacob, you need to be quiet..."
Jacob settled back into his seat. What had he been doing, again? It didn't seem important, whatever it had been. Something about the window. A number? But he was tired; it was late.
Maybe he could get to sleep.