The engine cluttered to a stop.
“Hey, Danny. Wake up. We’re here.”
Joe reached over and shook him by the knee, careful to avoid the catheter running down the inside of his leg. Danny cracked open his eyelids and gave a weak smile.
“The Four Corners?” he croaked.
“You bet. Man, you were out solid last night. Surprised you got any sleep at all hunched over the window like that.”
“It’s the painkillers. I sleep twelve hours most days. Sometimes fifteen.”
Danny gave a nervous chuckle. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, looking out at the mid-morning traffic, unsure of what to say next.
“Well, we’re here. Let’s go flip that coin of yours.”
Danny pushed himself up in his seat and peered through the bottom of the window. A taxi cab crept past, blaring its horn at an unseen jaywalker. He sank back a little.
“Really? Doesn’t look- like the pictures.”
Joe started.
“What d’ya mean?”
“The Four Corners. They’re way out. Middle of nowhere.”
“Nah. That can’t be right.”
Joe fumbled around his feet for the roadmap. He pulled it out over the dashboard, and with a finger began tracing the line of red highlighter he’d followed throughout the preceding night.
“Sorry man, this is it. Four Corners, Houston, Texas.”
At that moment Danny burst into a fit of violent coughing, turning away from Joe and sinking ever lower into the footwell. Joe reached into the back and fished out a bottle of water, warm with the heat of the car. He held it out sheepishly as Danny struggled to regain control of his lungs.
“Houston?” Danny managed between gasps, “Fucking Houston?”
Joe stared on, dumbfounded.
“Why the fuck- would I want to flip my grandmother’s coin- in Houston?”
“Well jeeze, I don’t know. It’s your list. I figured she was born here or something.”
“God- dammit!”
Danny tried to punch the side panelling of the car, managing just a feeble tap.
“The Four Corners monument! Where the states meet- Utah, Colorado, Arizona...”
Silence descended over them, interjected with jolts of Danny coughing. Joe began poring over the map, desperate for something to blame, knowing full well that the fault was his alone.
“So what do you want to do?” he said at last.
“It’s no use. I’m due back at the hospital tomorrow. The final slog. No time.”
“Hey, what about this...”
Folding the map in half, then half again, Joe passed it over and pointed at a tiny green square a few streets over from where the line of highlighter ended.
“Maybe you could do it there?”
Danny glanced up, on the verge of screaming, then met Joe’s gaze; anxious, almost frightened, but hopeful. He stared blankly at the map.
“Sure, Joe. Why not.”
His friend breathed a faint sigh of relief.
“I guess she never said it had to be the monument,” said Danny.
“Exactly! This’ll be great. You’ll see,” said Joe, already launching himself out of the car.
“Sorry Grandma,” Danny whispered.
The scratching in his chest felt tighter.