Parte 3

Read Part 1
Read Part 2

 Or Kansas, Slap! 

The last two days of the trip were shocking; comparable to the time when you either a)put your finger under a stapler or b) stuck yourself in a light Socket. Nothing life threatening, too overwhelming, just a small piercing pain, an electric shock that  lingers. It only lingers long enough to be annoying, but not long enough to cause permeant damage. This metaphor is equated to the state, Kansas.

Prior: Wyoming had beautiful rolling hills of sagebrush, Montana still had pine trees and Colorado had the Rockies. But, Kansas, Kansas was literally nothing. This nothing was not beautiful. Kansas was the bitch at who stood at back of the room arms folded, lips pierced, legs tightly crossed judging you as you walked through the room. She makes an audible scoff at your choice of showing too-much-skin.

***

The day began with fresh baked pastries from Briana's cousin and a cup of black coffee before the family went to Sunday Church and we took off. We then loaded the car, put the bikes on the rack, (a skill now perfected) and watched Denver's sprawls fade into the distance. We drove.

And drove. And drove some more. And more. There were fields so flat it looked as if the earth might drop off-1700's Conquaestor style. Except, if you drove to the end, you would just fall flat into the first, or second level of Dante's idea hell. In Kansas, everyone's a sinner. It don't matta what you been doin' or how how hard you been prayin'.


We were reminded of Jesus every 30 miles or so. Jesus, was, of course, blue eyed, creamy skinned, with long, straight brown hair. Jesus was American. Fucking American.

Let me explain. In Kansas, there are large, overbearing billboards with sayings such as, "Jesus is Real", "Trust in Jesus. I Trust in You", "Adoption Not Abortion", "St. Mathews Catholic Service, 10am Sunday, Exit----" "You Can be Saved! The End is Near" and "Jesus Loves YOU!"  They were very bright and very aggressive. People pay for this. Let me rephrase.  Someone pays to tell drivers on I-35 that Jesus is the only thing that is going to save them.  This billboard positioning is an economic means-to-an end. Supply and demand, baby. And it is all about the supply. Kansas has plenty o' giving. Just, not before marriage.

While Briana was napping, I heard, "This American Life" on the radio, since it was  Sunday. Ira Glass eased my confusion. I thought, "Maybe Jesus or God exists, somewhere between the sunflowers, oil drilling and blue eyed idolization."

We ended up in Wichita. The heat and humidity so overwhelming it slapped the air out of us. The heat is now my  abrasive lover. Slap!  Again Heat!  Slap! More! Slap! It's 4 o'clock!

You could hear the slapping echoing throughout the endless fields every time I stepped out of the car. Slap! More heat. Slap!

Jesus probably didn't approve.

We ate dinner at some restaurant where they had happy hour mimosas and was decorated in a "plane" theme. We watched Man Men in  hotel room. My head was laden with confusion, hot air and Jesus's suave economical side.

I don't even remember falling asleep that night. But I have a strong feeling I prayed.