sleeping through the second shift

On the weekends BC comes home I sleep. It is the sleep of a drowsy driver who finally surrenders to the side the road. Falling into slumber, gently rocked by the turbulence of long haul truckers passing in the night.   

With BC home, I sneak off to my room to lay down in the coolness of the blue sheets and listen to the sounds of my life happening without me.  

Some of the time I fall into deep sleep. 

The same sleep I had the night we drove the old green VW heavily loaded with kids across the California desert. As I recall I was heavily loaded too, 7 months pregnant with Beach. Somewhere on the wrong side of too late the van began overheating. 

I wasn't the driver but I refused to sleep as we crawled through the night hazards blinking trying to make it to the safety of Victorville and its row of over price mechanic shops. 

At hour 18 of what was supposed to be a 12 hour red-eye drive into Carlsbad BC pulled over in a rest area. I remember the way my hips ached as I climbed awkwardly into the pop-tent bunk. The smell of the musty sleeping bags and then work of letting go so I could catch a few hours of sleep. Four hours later, out of nothingness, I woke to harsh morning light beating down through the windshield and a tow truck.

Most of the time though, I am barely asleep. I catalog the colors sound makes in my head. A small wrench hitting the driveway: tiny black and white checkerboard. BC calling one of the kids: yellow. Beach's bird demanding a peanut: bright startling neon pink. Beach's voice: soft watery blue.

At one point yesterday afternoon I heard BC enter the room, stand quietly for a moment, then slip back out without a word. He learned a long time ago to make peace and even function out of the exhaustion I create for myself. Years ago he scaled back the fight about me needing to learn to pace myself. He completely gave up nagging me for long road trips about sleeping in the car so I would be well rested for my shift behind the wheel. Now he always drives second. That way at least he will be rested for the second shift. And from the passenger seat I can ride my stubborn tiredness as far down the black highway as I want...

...telling myself, I will sleep when we get there; I will sleep when he comes back.