you have some kind of nerve, johnny told the driver, taking it upon yourself to bring me here to indianapolis when i specifically said i wanted to go to cleveland.
i do have some kind of nerve, the driver agreed. in fact i have all different kinds of nerve, you might be surprised.
whatever kinds of nerve you have, johnny shot back, that does not give you the right to take me to indianapolis against my will.
who said we were stopping in indianapolis? we are just passing by indianapolis. close your eyes and open them again and indianapolis will be in the rear view mirror.
then where are we going? johnny asked.
deep into the dark heart of the american night.
oh. how far away is that?
it depends.
depends on what?
on how dark your own heart is.
johnny had no answer for that. he decided to change the subject.
are you going to kill me?
ha ha. no, what gave you that idea? you have a morbid imagination, my friend.
well, that is a relief. then what are you going to do with me?
i am going to put you to work. you are going to earn your keep for once in your young life.
johnny looked out the window to collect himself before replying to the driver’s outrageous statement.
they were traveling down a particularly barren stretch of highway, with no lights showing, even in the distance.
also, there were no stars in the sky.
was this “the dark heart of the american night”?
whatever that meant.
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