Once Upon a Road Trip (4 page)

“I love you too.” Angie leaned in to hug his neck again. When she let him go she turned away and walked around the front of her car. She didn’t want any more second thoughts, and she knew seeing him standing there looking forlorn would make her hesitate. Taking a few moments to put on music and lay out the map of her route, she managed to pull out of the drive with only a quick wave and a glance in her rear view mirror. She was glad to have at least made it out of the driveway before her tears won out.

After twenty minutes on the road, Angie reigned in her emotions and rallied her resolve. She needed all of her focus. It would take around twelve hours of driving before she reached her first destination in Ohio. That was plenty of time for her to reflect on why she was putting herself through this.

For as long as she could remember, Angie had been slightly above-average — from her height and physical strength, to her grades, intuition, and artistic capacity. She was athletic, but lacked the innate prowess of a competitive athlete. She was bright, but not a genius. Talented, but not elite. Good, but not best. While growing up she’d entered all sorts of contests, from writing, to art, to science fairs — never achieving first or second place, but consistently given honorable mention. A pat on the head, and a “good girl, keep trying.” She wasn’t in the top ten percent of her graduating class, but she was in the top twenty — were that considered worthy of recognition. She managed to excel at an array of things, yet always fell short of exceptional in any one area. To her, above-average had become only a small, yet frustrating step up from the mundane. Mediocrity with benefits.

Seeing her hope of one day becoming a writer in the light of realism, she knew above-average wasn’t going to cut it. If she was ever to go beyond entertaining the dream, she needed more under her belt than three years of reclusive internet storytelling —  more than college English and a few creative writing courses. She would have to offer something unique and authentic.

It was this nagging conviction that had first sparked the idea of taking a road trip and experiencing more of the world first hand. If she couldn’t manage to be extraordinary by nature, she reasoned the next best thing was to attempt something extraordinary. She might even come across a more practical idea for a career path along the way.

Assuming she made it back safely.

Now that she’d nearly fallen apart while taking the first step on her journey, she had to wonder if she would have the strength to see it through to the end.

June 10
,

And So It Begins

I beat the sun heading out this morning and drove straight east into it. The sky was totally clear, so I was treated to a lovely sunrise with all of those rich shades of red. My first stop was a rest station just outside of Madison, Wisconsin.  I’m holding up alright so far, but I might use my next gas stop to take a nap. I’ll be more than halfway by then.

A nice old trucker was kind enough to show me where the cars are supposed to park at this rest stop. Evidently, I parked on the end where the big rigs go and he was afraid I might get run over. I must have looked like a clueless idiot. *sigh* I’ll get it right next time. 

I found a swallowtail butterfly in the grass, nearly dead. I gave him some water droplets and sat him on the arm rest on the passenger’s side of my car. I named him Pete.

-I’m in Indiana right now. The nap helped me perk up. I’ve never been through this state before, but so far I’m convinced there’s nothing in Indiana. My road kill count has been impressive. It’s almost as though all of these animals came to the same realization about the monotony of this state, and then used the highway to end their misery. Okay, so maybe that’s a little harsh. I just wasn’t expecting so much of the same terrain. I don’t know why...it’s still the middle of the heartland, after all. The fields go on forever. If I wasn’t sure I’ve been driving in a straight line, I could swear that’s the third time I’ve passed the same silo.

-I made it to Brookville Ohio at 7:30pm. Now if only Alec were home so he and his mom could come and show me where they live. I’m sitting at a gas station, wondering if that was them I just saw drive by…   

Status: In need of a shower, tired, but hanging in there. I think the fever is back, but the sore throat isn’t as bad as it’s been. Poor Pete didn’t make it.

~Ang

Chapter 3

Angie followed a red Dodge sedan as it wove through open farmland for half an hour before reaching a few dozen single-level houses clustered around a lone four-way stop sign. The car ahead hung a right, and then pulled into a driveway. She parked off to one side of it and got out. Though she’d stretched her legs at the gas station while waiting for her host family, her knees still ached with stiffness.

Alec’s mother, a plump woman with pleasantly rounded facial features, came spilling out of her driver’s seat. They’d only exchanged greetings through their car windows before setting off, and she seemed intent on making up for it by walking around Angie’s car with open arms.

“Glad you could make it back to see us!” The woman greeted. “Goodness you’re brave—all by yourself this time. We’ll have to have a chat later so I can instill a healthy fear of God in you!”

The maternal fussing was lighthearted, but Angie suspected the shorter woman was at least halfway serious as she stepped into the hug. “Don’t worry. I’ve already got a healthy fear of God. It’s a fear of people I probably need some work on.” She laughed. “Thanks for giving me a place to crash, Claire. I don’t want to impose at all.”

Claire stepped back to grasp Angie’s forearms, casting a sincere look over the rim of her broad, square glasses. “It’s good to have the company. Charlie’s away on business the next few days, so the timing worked out. I didn’t feel like explaining to him where you came from, anyway.”

Angie felt a twisting pang of guilt at realizing the woman had needed to omit her existence from conversations with her husband. When she’d first visited them on her test run over spring break, she’d only met Alec and his mother for lunch at a mall in a nearby town. While their meeting had been enjoyable, she’d gathered that Alec’s father wouldn’t be thrilled with him having internet friends — let alone meeting them in person.

“Alec can show you around while I make you up a room.” Claire called over her shoulder as she headed for the side door of the house.

Alec was slower to extract himself from the passenger side of the car, standing off to one side while the women had their exchange. He looked uncertain, which Angie had come to expect. Alec had always been expressive and open online and over the phone, but in person she knew him to be painfully shy. She took the initiative of bringing the welcoming hug to him.

And there was plenty of Alec to hug. Though they stood at the same height, Angie guessed him to be at least a hundred pounds overweight. Or at least, she’d thought that if he were to lose a hundred pounds, he could be considered attractive. The thought gave her a sense of disgust with herself on one hand, and saddened her on the other. She felt hypocritical to reject the shallowness of society’s expectations only to continue bowing to them in her mind. But at the same time, the health ramifications of her friend’s condition seemed a valid concern. Not that she had any idea how to address it.

“Show me around the neighborhood,” she said as she released him. “I could use a walk.”

“Oh…okay. Sure,” Alec answered in a soft mutter, falling into step with her down the short driveway. “Not much to see.” He turned his head aside, looking at her through the shaggy, chestnut-brown bangs that obscured his dark gaze. “Sorry we had trouble finding you. I should have been looking at the plates, not the car color,” he said, sheepish.

“Hey, you found me. That’s all that matters.”

They walked on past the stop sign for several blocks before the houses ended and they doubled back, turning right at the stop sign. It looked as though this would be the same sight down all four streets. That much, Angie didn’t mind. The awkward silence was another matter.  

“So, did you get your driver’s license yet?” she asked.

“Oh, uh, no.” He looked over at her, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I kinda failed the driving test…again. I was hoping to retake it the day after tomorrow.”

“I failed my first driving exam,” she offered in commiseration. “I’m not great at following directions under pressure. Or at left hand turns, apparently. There goes my dream of driving for NASCAR.”

“Oh,” Alec picked up on the joke after a delay and chuckled. “I guess so.”

“I could help you practice.”

Alec brightened at the suggestion. “That’d be great. I really need to pass so I can drive myself to college this fall.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Trust me, college won’t be what it should be if your mother ends up dropping you off at all of your classes.”

Angie smiled, trying to soften the strength of her assertion. Alec was nineteen, an only child, and had been home-schooled his entire life. She didn’t have anything against home schooling, it just seemed likely to her that, in combination with being stuck in the-middle-of-nowhere-USA , his horizons could stand to be broadened. She was beginning to think she may not be nearly as sheltered and inexperienced as she’d initially thought — at least by comparison.

Alec fell quiet again through the final leg of their walk, watching the empty road in front of them until they crossed back into the gravel driveway to his front door.

“I should let a few people know that I’m still alive,” Angie said. “Would anyone mind if I used your internet?”

“Oh, sure.” Alec paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I think you’ll be sleeping in the office anyway, so you can help yourself. It’s just dial-up, so it’s pretty slow,” he said, apologetic. As he pushed open the door, a smoke colored tabby cat slipped past him and darted around Angie’s legs.

When Alec didn’t show any indication of being distressed by the feline’s escape, Angie followed him inside. She found herself in a small, blandly decorated living room across from an open kitchen. A larger calico stretched itself out along the arm of a tan corduroy couch, mewling to be pet.

“All my family had was dial-up until about a year ago. I’ll manage just fine.” She injected a light cheeriness into her tone as she greeted the cat and surveyed her surroundings.

Short of polite conversation, Angie decided not to feign chattiness in what little was left of the evening. She would have a couple of days to coax Alec out of his shell. Now that the drive was over with, exhaustion was settling over her like a lead blanket.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Stop! Left a little more,” Angie said, peering out the passenger side window of the little red sedan. Having laid out an obstacle course of orange cones through the parking lot of Alec’s church, she’d spent the last hour helping him navigate through it while his mother was occupied with choir practice.

Alec eased the car forward, narrowly missing the cone she’d warned him about. He curved with the path to the right and put the car in reverse as soon as he’d completed the course.

“Use your mirrors,” she reminded him as he looked over his shoulder and then began to work his way backward through the maze.

What started out as an exercise in frustration had steadily improved once they’d realized the car mirrors needed adjusting to Alec’s height rather than his mother’s. Angie resolved to remain silent this time, hoping for the best, but prepared for the dull
thud
of the back wheel bowling over a hapless cone. Alec unnerved easily, and she didn’t want to make things any more difficult on him.

As the car rolled to a stop, Alec shifted his gaze side to side in hopeful uncertainty. “Did I make it?”

She grinned at him and gave a thumbs-up. “Didn’t even touch one.”

Relief washed over Alec’s face, accompanied by what she thought might be some newly acquired confidence.

“Okay, one more time. Just to make sure that wasn’t a fluke,” he said, eyes locked ahead in concentration.

He took the course again, relying on his mirrors without being reminded. By the end, his grip on the steering wheel caused his fingers to go white from a lack of circulation, but his effort was a marked success. Alec looked both amazed and pleased as he put the vehicle into park.

“You’re pretty good at this. That was a lot easier than when my mom tries to coach me.”

“That’s just because she’s your mom.” Angie laughed.

“Now let’s go do the exam, while I still remember what I’m doing,” he said with an edge of nervousness.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Angie hopped out of the passenger seat. She then went about walking the course, collecting the orange cones into stacks. Glancing back toward the tiny church, she spotted Claire making her way to the car — her long, floral sundress swishing around her ankles. Offhandedly, Angie thought it made the woman look like a walking bouquet. But then again, she didn’t consider herself any reliable judge of good fashion sense.

“Do you think he’s ready?” Claire called out.

Angie nodded. “He thinks so. He wants to go now, if you’re done with practice.”

Claire clasped her hands together at her bosom in what Angie took to be a culmination of enthusiasm and anxiety. “Let’s go then. Jump in and start praying, sweetie. This is his last shot.” She confided the last part with a lowered voice before pulling open the passenger side door.

Angie gave Claire a reassuring smile and got into the back seat, where she listened to mother and son have a detached conversation about Alec’s weekend guitar lesson. To Claire’s credit, she seemed to make an effort not to cause him further apprehension by bringing up any last-minute tips on driving etiquette. Judging by the tension she noted in Alec’s hunched shoulders, it wasn’t working.

Fortunately, the drive to the Department of Motor Vehicles was a short one. Angie soon found herself standing outside with Claire at the far end of a brick building, watching Alec and the balding examiner get into the red Dodge. Behind the DMV was an enormous asphalt lot laid out with orange cones.