May 2nd, 2016

free fall

Distance is relative

My comment on 2x02 "Everybody Loves a Clown": Spoken like a true Californian, a 9-hour drive is compatible with the phrase "a couple of murders not far from here." Here meaning the roadhouse, in central Nebraska (or so says the SuperWiki), and "not far" being Medford, WI.

For the curious, San Diego is roughly nine hours south of the Bay, where Stanford is located.

Now imagine Sam convincing Jess it's not that far, it's not that far, I'll drive, I'll drive the whole way, and Jess needing very little convincing, as long as they don't have to take the 5 that whole way. One Saturday chem exam down the hole, and the second round of midterms are over, and they have 51 hours before their 8am on Tuesday. So they drive.

In National City, Sam takes Jess to Doris's for the cookies, the watermelon-shaped ones, sweet and crumby. The dye matches the shop's paint job, which Jess hates and Sam mostly just remembers.

I lived here once, he tells her. Maybe four months? Six?

Pendleton? asks Jess. My little cousin, he's doing his basic training down there.

Then she laughs.

Up there, now, I guess, she says.

Next time, she says, I'm planning the getaway, and we're going all the way to Mexico.

Mexico, Sam thinks.

I can't believe it's this warm in October, Sam says. He's overdressed. Thinking about Mexico. He'd need a passport. He can get a passport. He's never been to Mexico. He's never seen ocean that purple, from so high up. Mostly Sam knows the Atlantic, and sunsets don't work the same way there.

October is the hottest month of the year, says Jess. Always is.

Her hair's dancing in the surf wind but Sam doesn't say anything; Jess hates it when he gets cheesy.

Have you ever gone cliff diving? Jess asks.

Please don't, says Sam. Please don't say stuff like that when you're standing at the edge of a cliff.

Or shark diving, says Jess.

Oh, don't make that face, Sam Winchester, says Jess. I'm planning the trip, remember? If we drive all the way to Mexico I'm not gonna just sit around drinking margaritas.

What about like, alpacas? Sam asks. Alpacas are--

What, now we're driving to Peru?

Jess folds herself into Sam's coat then, because the sun's dipped under and now the marine layer's fogging in.

So, Mexico. Let's say June? says Jess. Before I lose you to law school and all.

Fine. But no sharks, Sam insists.

Deal, says Jess. But only if we hit J tree on our way home right now.

We have 18 hours left, she says, and we gotta make them count.