For the next half hour, it was quiet. Only the wagon and the horses made noises. Peaches thought he heard a faint snore but chalked it up as being miscellaneous forest sounds. The quiet was slowly getting at him, though, that's for sure. Here he was with a real live person and not an ounce of conversation besides the bickering from earlier. He started to drum the tips of his fingers on his side of the jockey bench. It was a familiar beat, at least to Peaches. One of his very own tunes. A tune he would be playing in a couple of hours. Well, probably not anymore. A grunt came from the wagon man. Annoyed, definitely. This in turn annoyed Peaches too. Such a quiet guy that it was grating. Peaches kept drumming his fingers.
"What is that?" the wagon man drawled after a couple of minutes.
"A song," replied Peaches.
The wagon man mumbled. Peaches couldn't see it but he was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. A smirk came across his face.
There was another bout of silence before Peaches broke it. "Y'know, I never got your name."
The wagon man's pursed lips became a grimace. "Why would you want to know it?"
Real friendly, this guy, thought Peaches. "I'd prefer it if my chauffeur wasn't a complete stranger."
"What's your name, then? I'd prefer it if my passenger wasn't a complete stranger either."
A pause. Shit. "Peaches. It's peaches." The wagon man slowly turned his head incredulously towards him, sporting a strong up-turned nose frown in the process.
"Really?"
Peaches raised his hands in defeat. He squeaked out, "Really." He tilted his head. "Well, that's my last name. My first name is Sergeant."
A high pitched chuckle rocketed its way out of the wagon man. This chuckle turned into a riot of laughter. This caused Peaches to start laughing too, although softer and much more confused. "Sergeant Peaches! What kind of- oh, boy! Your parents must be something else naming you that!" Peaches decided not to tell him that there was a Sergeant Peaches Senior.
"Hey, laugh all you want at my name but I bet yours isn't that much better, Mr. Wagon Man."
The wagon man wiped a tear with a lead-gripping hand. "Jimmy."
"Huh?"
"It's Jimmy," said Jimmy.
Expecting a completely different, more mysterious and vaguely wild west name, Peaches blurted out, "What kind of a name is Jimmy?"
"What kind of a name is Sergeant Peaches?"
Peaches did a dramatic eye roll. He turned his head away from Jimmy.
----
He stared at the passing foliage for a long while. He didn't remember the road being this long. Maybe the horse power difference between vehicles was causing it to feel longer than it was. He looked forward. No, the road was definitely longer now.
"Jimmy?"
A hum answered.
"Where are we going?"
The two side-eyed each other. "You're asking that now?"
"Answer the question, Jimmy."
"City."
"I don't remember the road being this long to the city, Jimmy."
Jimmy scoffed. "Got a case of vertigo, Sergeant. Road's always been this long."
Peaches tugged at his collar. Maybe the heat's getting to him. The heat. Oh, god, the heat hadn't relented. It must've been close to sundown at this point and it was practically smothering him. He took off his well-tailored well-drenched suit jacket and dangled it on the settee's backing. Tugging his sleeves up and undoing his blouse's bow, he saw Jimmy glance at him. "What?" Jimmy cracked a smile. "It's hot!"
"I'm just surprised you started undressing now."
"Yeah, well, if we don't get to the city in the next hour, you're gonna be lucky to even see me in briefs."
Jimmy kept smiling that sarcastic, mocking smile. Peaches noticed how he was perfectly cool. Long-sleeved plaid and work jeans but not a single bead of perspiration came running down his forehead. This guy was starting to piss Peaches off. He really needed a shower but Jimmy didn't, apparently.
"Is there a truck stop nearby? I need a rinse-off…"
"Nope. There's a spring, though."
Peaches didn't remember a spring, or any body of water, really, being nearby. "What? A spring? Where?"
"Twenty or so yards."
Peaches leaned against the seat's backing. A hand wrapped around his forehead to scratch at the accumulated liquid. He was boiling alive. "Twenty or so yards…"
"Can you make it, Sergeant?"
"Don't call me Sergeant," snapped Peaches.
Jimmy's smile quickly turned itself around. "You really wanna be called Peaches?"
"Yes." Peaches exasperatedly drew out each letter of that word. His hand traveled to cover his eyes.
"Okay, then, Peaches."
"Twenty or so yards," Peaches mumbled under his breath. "Twenty or so yards, twenty or so yards, twenty…"
Jimmy ignored Peaches's mantra.
----
Peaches almost fell over and out of the jockey bench once Jimmy stopped the horses. His hands scrambled to grab at anything stable. He probably felt up Jimmy's knee in the process of not-falling-into-the-horses.
"Y'alright?" asked Jimmy.
"You could've warned me we were stopping! A nudge or yell or something!" Peaches grabbed at his chest.
Jimmy chuckled. It seemed he was great at predicting Peaches's very obvious next question considering he said: "The spring should be only a couple of feet down. You should see a big rock in front of a tree that looks like a grandpa bent over. That's gonna be the only way yer gonna get in the water without trudgin' through a jungle."
Very carefully this time, Peaches slipped out of the wood settee and onto the ground. Suddenly, he realized just how sore his ass was. It was stinging like it'd been around nuns. His back was out of shape too. "You should consider adding cushions to your ride."
Jimmy grinned wide, exposing a snaggletooth by his canine. As Peaches started to walk away, he yelled out, "Beware of sirens, sailor!"
This caused Peaches to look back both confused and annoyed. "Sirens?" Jimmy seemed in the mood for joking. Peaches felt a burgeoning hatred towards the man burn inside of him.