are pools of oil under the ground as well as there are pools of water.”
He leaned forward, very interested. “I’ve heard such tales told by a man from Pennsylvania. Sometimes the salt mines are polluted with oil. Is this oil the same as kerosene?”
She made a face and shrugged. “They are related. I know kerosene and gasoline have different boiling points, but…other than that – it’s over my head. Sorry.”
When she pooched her lips out in a cute show of remorse, Reno wanted to lean over and cover them with his own. “It’s all right.”
She brightened. “I can tell you we have 262 horsepower under the hood.” When he stared at her blankly, she giggled. “That’s a term of how they measure the power of an engine.” She reached over to cover his hand with hers. “We’ll have to find some guy to explain to you the intricacies of a gas-powered engine.”
Suddenly, Reno realized they were moving. Quickly. “Land O’ Goshen,” he mumbled, reaching out with both hands to grab the dash in front of him. “We’re splitting the wind.” They’d been talking so intently, and the ride was so smooth, he’d been oblivious to the ground they were covering in a hurry.
“Oh, we’re only going forty-five, this is a pretty winding road.”
“Forty-five.”
She pointed at the speedometer. “See? We can go lots faster.” When they came to a straight stretch, she pressed her foot down and the car went even faster. “Fifty-five. Sixty-five. Seventy-five.”
“Seventy-five is plenty fast,” Reno announced, his eyes wide, his jaw clenched.
“Okay.” She lifted her foot and the car slowed down.
Letting out a long breath, Reno began to notice what was around him. A ribbon of road stretched ahead of him and behind. For most of the way, there was a yellow line down the middle. “What’s the yellow line for?”
About that time, he found out. Over the hill came another car, heading straight for them. “Watch out!”
Journey noticed how he instinctively put on his brakes, pressing his feet into the floorboard. “Don’t worry, the approaching traffic stay in their own lane. Mostly. That’s what the yellow dividing line is for. When it’s solid, you’re not supposed to pass because there’s a hill or intersection ahead. When it’s a series of dashes, that means you can go around a slow-moving vehicle in your lane.”
“Oh.” He got some of that, not all. His mind had already moved on to other things, not just the other horseless carriages on the road, but also the structures they were passing. Homes. Stores. “What are those tall poles with wire strung between them?”
“Electric lines. They carry the power that makes the lights turn on, among many other things. And don’t ask me how they make electricity, all I can remember is that it takes running water or some type of turbine.”
He didn’t ask for more information. Instead, he pointed to the sky. “What in tarnation is that?”
She glanced up and giggled. “Oh, an airplane. I told you that people flew nowadays. There’s probably a couple of hundred people riding in that long silver tube with wings.”
“How does it stay aloft?” he whispered in wonder.
“Aerodynamics,” she pulled that word out of the back of her brain. “And thrust.” Journey said the word with a bit of gusto. “Something like…when the engine of a plane moves it forward at a high rate of speed, air flows down over the wings toward the ground. This causes an upward thrust that is greater than the weight of the plane and keeps it up in the air. The plane’s engines push it forward, but it’s the wings that move it upward.” She smiled at her explanation. “I didn’t know I could say all that and it make sense.”
Reno didn’t have the heart to tell her that it didn’t really make sense to him. If he felt like contemplating about the idea, it might mean something – but he was too astonished at everything he was seeing to think straight.
“I think if you were to ride as the crow flies, the distance to Packsaddle Mountain is about seventeen miles. Following the highway, it’s about thirty-seven miles. We’ll be there in about forty minutes.”
“My best time on Traveler is three and a half hours.” He marveled at this new world he was experiencing. “You know, I keep expecting to wake up.” Catching her eye, he smiled. “If I’m asleep, this is one heck of a dream.”
“Believe me.” She spoke softly, in all seriousness. “I feel the same way.”