No Lanes, Just Vibes

“I am one with the road, and the road is with me,” Mabel chanted as she guided the car down the road at a snail’s pace.

After a sudden snowstorm followed by an extreme cold snap, the roads were coated in a thick layer of ice and snow. Mabel could feel her wheels slipping through the shifting tension of the steering wheel, but all was well. She was one with the road, and the road was with her. They would arrive home safely, even if it took literally five times as long as usual to get there.

In the passenger seat, her friend Mike clutched at the handle above the door, tension written on every muscle that stood out in his arms. His breathing was shallow and quick. He was not one with the road.

“I can’t believe you brought this empty tin can of a car out in these conditions,” he muttered, bracing his feet against the floor of the car. “We’re gonna die.”

“We’re not going to die, Kevin,” Mabel said flatly, breaking her chant. “Everything is going to be fine. I am one with the road, and the road is–”

“This isn’t Star Wars!” Mike exclaimed.

“It still works,” Mabel informed him, shifting her grip on the wheel and leaning over to turn on her Christmas music.

“Don’t turn on the radio,” Mike moaned.

“It’s fine.” Mabel skipped to a version of Carol of the Bells that she particularly liked and hummed along as they continued down the highway at the breakneck speed of 20 miles per hour.

Normally, she would have been more worried about driving on this much ice, but all the other drivers seemed to have agreed on a reasonable and prudent speed. No one was zipping around endangering themselves and everyone else. Every car on the highway crawled along at the same, safe, manageable speed.

It was a Christmas Miracle.

“Do you at least have four-wheel-drive?” Mike asked.

“Nope!” Mabel replied cheerfully.

“Oh God.”

Mabel ignored him and focused on following the car in front of her. There were no lanes tonight, just vibes, and generally agreed upon driving ruts where there was almost traction. She followed these new lines, ignoring any and all signs of where established driving lanes had been. They didn’t exist tonight. There was no point in trying to maintain the status quo when mother nature had taken it upon herself to wipe the slate clean and leave them a very literal blank canvas to drive on..

There were usually five lanes passing through the city, with lots of interchanges and forced exits. Not tonight though, there were two sets of driving ruts, and everyone followed like they were wagons in a train.

“This is insane,” Mike muttered.

“Hush, Stanley,” Mabel quipped. She turned up the music and kept her eyes on the road.

It was, strangely, the most relaxing drive she’d ever had on this stretch of highway. The interchanges in the city made for some confusing driving, and there was always someone in too much of a hurry. Mabel couldn’t remember the last time she’d passed through without being tailgated or cut off by someone who didn’t seem to understand basic traffic laws.

None of that tonight though–with the icy roads gleaming and the Christmas music playing–just an oddly mellow jaunt through the city. She even had a chance to look at some of the lights and enjoy the scenery.

“Oh, that is lovely,” she commented as they passed by the convention center, it’s walls draped in cascading icicle lights. The sun was setting over the water and the lights glimmered in the night.

“Can you keep your eyes on the road!”

“I’m watching the road just fine, Steve,” Mabel said blandly. They hadn’t wavered from their course once. She was one with the road, and the road was with her. They would not slide into a ditch. There would be no accidents. Not tonight.

“I just really wish you had all-wheel-drive in this thing.”

“Well, Aberforth, I’ve only got the front-wheel-drive, and it’s just going to have to do,” Mabel replied. Mike groaned.

They slowly made their way out of town and into the foothills, where there were less buildings, less lights, and a lot more trees draped in fluffy blankets of snow. Mabel enjoyed the moonlight glistening on the thick snowfall, and the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful.

She had been worried about driving in the dark too, but at this speed, her headlights showed her enough, and keeping an eye on the other cars and their tail lights told her to rest.

Ahead of them, cars began to turn on their hazard lights, the red flashes reflected on the slick surface of the road. Traffic slowed, and cars began swerving–carefully–onto the shoulder before veering back.

“God, what now?” Mike groaned.

Mabel turned on her hazard lights as well. If everyone else was doing it on a night like this, it was probably a good idea. Besides, she couldn’t see the road that far away in the dark, only the tail lights, and the hazards.

“Why are you doing it too?” Mike demanded.

“Because Don,” Mabel snapped. “The rule of the road tonight is that we’re all in this together. If the cars up ahead have their hazards on, then I’m going to need mine on when I get there too.”

“That’s ridicule–shiiiiiiiit.” Mike’s jaw dropped and he leaned forward to see better as Mabel’s headlights illuminated an entire tree, fallen across both lanes of the highway. It had left a mound of choppy snow around it, and was so piney and dark that without street lights it was nearly invisible until you were right on top of it.

“Would you be so kind as to report that to some kind of traffic site?” Mabel requested as she guided the car up onto the shoulder, slipped a bit towards the ditch, and successfully maneuvered back onto the road.

“Wh-what?”

“On your phone, dear.”

“Sure.” Mike pulled out his phone and Mabel enjoyed not having to listen to him being tense about her driving for the five minutes it took him to report the fallen tree, though she was certain they would not be the first ones to call it in.

“I am one with the road, and the road is with me,” she murmured.

“Not that again,” Mike said as he set down his phone.

“It’s got us this far,” Mabel pointed out. “We’re almost home.”

“I still think it’s insane you bringing this dinky little car out in this,” Mike said. “No one should be out in this without all-wheel-drive.”

“Hey Mike,” Mabel said firmly, waiting until he turned his full attention on her to continue. “We’re almost home.”

“Yeah?”

“And your car–the one that’s stuck in a ditch forty miles back–the one that has to wait until tomorrow for a tow because there are so many cars stuck in ditches tonight…” She drew out the last bit, watching him shift uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye. “Isn’t it–didn’t you say it was all-wheel-drive?”

Mike grumbled and turned towards the passenger window.

“I thought so.” Mabel nodded, turned the music down a little so she could see better, and got them home.