The Bluest Sky

Alex and I were traveling to meet up with one of my old friends, Jenny, and her fiancé. Cars and motorized transportation are sparse and many roads are overgrown with wild grass and other prairie vegetation. The great plain states or what used to be the great plain states are beautiful and probably look most like what they did before man found them. All the farm land quickly reverted back to nature. The weather was perfect for the entirety of our five hundred mile journey on foot. A smattering of clouds provided us some shade in the day and allowed the heat to escape at night.

Alex was not a good traveling companion, he never had anything to say, never started conversations, never had ideas about foraging. I didn't like him after the first day, I'm fine with taciturn companions, but he wasn't doing anything to help us. He seemed lazy and uninterested in finding Jenny. I was excited to see Jenny, I hadn't seen her in a long time, and was thrilled when I found out she had survived whatever had happened.

The journey was long, and I forgot my traveling companions name, day after day we walked in silence, ate what I found, and slept under the stars. The weather was the same everyday, perfect. The sky was amazing, the bluest sky I'd ever seen, everyday I swear it got more blue, everyday it was best I'd ever seen. I think the clouds did it, the clouds were pure white, contrasting with the blue. Rich, bright, solid blue, it didn't make sense how it could be such a deep blue but also so bright. A platonic blue sky, dotted with bleached white cotton clouds.

I knew we were getting close because of all the dirt roads. Jenny and her neighbors had built roads along the most traveled pathways. The dirt was loose, but the roads were better than nothing, and proved to be a useful guide in the worst spots.

Finally we reached Jenny's house: a dilapidated farm house painted a faded sky blue, with holes in the roof, and a broken bench swing amongst the rotting colonial wood columns. She rushed out to greet us. Our customary bear hug lasted longer than usual. How many of our friends had died? I had not met her fiancé yet, and he watched us from the porch. Jenny introduced him as Alexia. I thought this sounded very familiar, and tried to introduce my traveling companion, but his name escaped my mind. My mind kept churning, struggling to find the name of the person that just spent weeks traveling with me across country. I failed to recall the name but it remained on the tip of my tongue.

Jenny and Alexia had a beat up, old Ford pickup truck. Keeping true to the color scheme, the truck was a medium shade of blue, like a well used pair of dark jeans. Joy riding around the loose dirt roads was exhilarating: wind in my face, warm sunny day, beautiful blue sky, Jenny pushing the truck to its tipping point. Alexia, Alex, and I road in the bed. Alexia cracking jokes, and yelling to Jenny when she drifted around particularly worrisome corners. Alex, still being withdrawn, sat expressionless and slid around the bed like a sack of potatoes.

After the truck ride, we retire to the undulating hills surrounding Jenny's house. We lie down in the soft grass and stare at the perfect blue sky.