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The Passenger
Inspired by Don Wieland's painting The Whisper and the Roar Ethan Hamill |
"I'm flattered you're taking me for a ride in your new Avanti on this mountain road."
I'm the one who should be flattered.
"To the contrary. Your car does not look like any other modern car. It has little chrome, mostly highlights, and is even shaped differently in a downward-sloping wedge."
I'm still the one who should be flattered. You do not look like any of the research scientists attending the seminar at the resort back there.
"Thank you. I bet you tell that to all the women nuclear physicists."
No. Just the ones as smart as you and who look-- well, you know.
"I've always considered my brain my most attractive feature."
That's because you're not a man.
"Well, your gender does seem to populate the seminar in greater number."
Uh-huh. And to a man I do not think one of them believed me when I gave my report on the unidentified flying objects I sighted a month ago in these same mountains.
"Men do not have a monopoly on imagination, I'm afraid."
Whose imagination are you referring to-- mine or those skeptics in trousers and smocks at the lodge?
"I like your car's rumble."
Not answering my question.
"It's so different than the sound, the quiet, of the flying saucers you talked about."
A different propulsion, no doubt.
"And powerplant. Solar-powered with infinitely less moving parts and complexities."
You sound certain of that.
"As certain as I can be."
Confidence to go along with the brains and looks.
"Thank you. The mountain view brings out the best in me, I suppose."
And not your company?
"That, too."
Thank you.
"And, yes, it would be nice if the flying saucers made another appearance just at this moment."
How did you know I was thinking that?
"Quiet! Here they come from beyond that peak."
How in the world--
"Shush. I read your mind."
I'm the one who should be flattered.
"To the contrary. Your car does not look like any other modern car. It has little chrome, mostly highlights, and is even shaped differently in a downward-sloping wedge."
I'm still the one who should be flattered. You do not look like any of the research scientists attending the seminar at the resort back there.
"Thank you. I bet you tell that to all the women nuclear physicists."
No. Just the ones as smart as you and who look-- well, you know.
"I've always considered my brain my most attractive feature."
That's because you're not a man.
"Well, your gender does seem to populate the seminar in greater number."
Uh-huh. And to a man I do not think one of them believed me when I gave my report on the unidentified flying objects I sighted a month ago in these same mountains.
"Men do not have a monopoly on imagination, I'm afraid."
Whose imagination are you referring to-- mine or those skeptics in trousers and smocks at the lodge?
"I like your car's rumble."
Not answering my question.
"It's so different than the sound, the quiet, of the flying saucers you talked about."
A different propulsion, no doubt.
"And powerplant. Solar-powered with infinitely less moving parts and complexities."
You sound certain of that.
"As certain as I can be."
Confidence to go along with the brains and looks.
"Thank you. The mountain view brings out the best in me, I suppose."
And not your company?
"That, too."
Thank you.
"And, yes, it would be nice if the flying saucers made another appearance just at this moment."
How did you know I was thinking that?
"Quiet! Here they come from beyond that peak."
How in the world--
"Shush. I read your mind."
