“I want to stop. Let’s pull over.”

“Why?”

“I feel we’re going in the wrong direction.”

“James, we all came to an agreement. We agreed to find our new settlement in a warmer climate. But, as you know, we cannot force you.”

“Clark. Guys. Come on. Look at this landscape. Wouldn’t you agree it’s too open? It’s a world of beige and blue. This isn’t what I agreed to.”

A murmur rose up from the fold. Fans were waving, wet cloths were pressed against the backs of necks. No, not from the heat, but from the strain of a mind not made up. Ice cream headaches ruled the road. They were all leading, but none a Leader.

“James, we all agreed.”

“What! I can’t change my mind? I have a right to have my argument heard.”

“James, calm down. You are free to leave or stay.”

“Clark, are you crazy? That’s an ultimatum. Telling me I have a choice, but offering only A or B.”

“It is up to you. Let us ask everyone else—

—“Shut your mouth Clark” came from the rear, “James is the only one who knows how to drive this bus!”