Tiny House on the Road

by Celia Bonaduce

  “Shouldn’t that be my decision?” Vivien asked.

  “Do you have a better idea?” Marco asked.

  Vivien tried to think of something, but what other option was there? She tried to be more cordial.

  “Thank you,” Vivien finally said to Marco. “I guess we’ll just wait and see what your cousin has to say. “Are you related to everybody in town?”

  “Seems like it,” Marco said.

  He did not sound happy about it.

  Chapter 20

  If Ray wasn’t Marco’s cousin—and the only mechanic in town—Vivien would have had second thoughts letting him tow her precious truck into Sandstone. Ray’s place was hidden behind a high adobe wall, keeping it out of the public eye, which was a blessing for Sandstone. The garage was so disorganized Vivien had to completely ignore it or she feared she’d have to volunteer her skills as a community service.

  Ray’s shock of hair stood out from his head as if every strand were trying to escape the overcrowded space. Although taller than Marco, you could definitely see the family resemblance in the eyes and cheekbones.

  Not that she’d noticed Marco’s eyes or cheekbones.

  To everyone’s surprised, when Marco offered to follow the tow truck into Sandstone, Priscilla called “shotgun!” and perched herself in the passenger seat, Clay scrambling after her as if going to town was an everyday occurrence for the two of them.

  Vivien and Marco exchanged a look. Who is this woman?

  As Marco followed the tow truck, Vivien found herself grateful to be in the back of the cab in Marco’s truck. Her own truck looked so mournful, it’s front end in the air, like a hooked fish, bouncing down the road. Vivien thought about Priscilla all the way into town. The older woman was in incredibly high spirits for someone whose dream trip just got sidelined. Was it possible Priscilla didn’t understand the trip was most likely off? Of course, there was a chance her truck just had a flesh wound, but from the accusing glances coming from those headlights, it did not seem likely.

  “It’s the tie rod and the ball joints,” Ray said.

  “Oh, no!” Priscilla gasped.

  Everyone turned to Priscilla. Was it possible she knew what a tie rod entailed?

  “The tie rod is bent and the ball joint housing is skewed,” Ray continued. “You won’t be able to steer the truck until they’re replaced.”

  “Which is when?” Priscilla asked before Vivien could open her mouth.

  “Can’t say,” Ray said. “I know I don’t have the parts. Best case scenario is I can get them from Taos, and even at that, we’re talking four days.”

  “That’s too long,” Priscilla, said, her voice thinning. “We need the truck fixed now.”

  Clay dug his nose into Priscilla’s side, determined to comfort her as Marco and Vivien exchanged another look. Priscilla did understand what was at stake.

  “That’s the best I can do,” Ray said, walking his visitors to the garage gate. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to start making phone calls.”

  “Can’t you call in some favors?” Priscilla stood between him and his office.

  Call in some favors?

  Vivien couldn’t help but look once again to Marco.

  “She watches too much TV,” Marco said quietly to Vivien.

  It wasn’t a dig. Priscilla just lived in her own world.

  Ray looked down at the tiny woman in front of him and smiled gently.

  “This is Sandstone, Priscilla,” Ray said. “If anyone in town knew you needed a tie rod—and had one—you know we wouldn’t have a problem.”

  “Let’s go over to the store,” Marco said, taking Priscilla by the arm. “Dad won’t believe you’re in town. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

  “We’re all happy to see you,” Ray said to Priscilla. “Don’t be a stranger. You used to be a fixture around here. Without you, the town just isn’t the same.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Priscilla said, looking down the street. “It looks exactly the same.”

  “She’s got you there.” Marco smiled at Ray.

  Clay glanced back at Vivien as he accompanied Priscilla. He seemed like the only one who remembered Vivien was with them, as Vivien followed Marco and Priscilla across the street toward the general store. Marco put out his arm, which Priscilla took as they climbed the stairs to the store. Vivien had to admit, his attention to her was touching and appeared to be genuine. She felt herself softening toward him. Clay turned back to Vivien once more, a look of impatient “are you coming in or what?” written all over his snout. Vivien quickened her pace, catching the door before it slammed in her face. Marco seemed to have forgotten all about her—or had he? Did he see her as a threat to his plan—whatever that plan might be? Her good will toward Marco dissolved.

  She knew she had to keep her eyes and ears open. Marco wouldn’t be the first con artist to fool everyone around him. And now that it appeared she and Priscilla wouldn’t be leaving town, she’d have to double down on her vigilance. As she entered the store, she saw Rosa enveloping the tiny Priscilla in her arms.

  “Dios mío! No puedo creer que estés aquí,” Rosa said.

  “Mira cómo te has convertido!” Priscilla said, cupping Rosa’s face in her hands. “Y una Devoraza, también!”

  Vivien was so used to everyone speaking English that she forgot how far these families’ ties went back in New Mexico history.

  Rosa turned and called out to a man stocking a shelf in the middle of the store. The man was a formidable figure in a flannel shirt and jeans. “Pappi! Look! We have company.”

  Vivien noticed Priscilla’s posture stiffen as the man turned around.

  “Hello, Jose,” Priscilla squeaked.

  This must be Marco and Rosa’s father. The man stopped working, but stayed where he was.

  “I heard you were leaving for San Diego,” Jose said, without a greeting or a smile.

  No one said anything. Vivien couldn’t stand the tension.

  “We’ve run into trouble,” Vivien said. “I was on my way…”

  From the looks on everyone’s faces, she decided not to elaborate. Whatever was going on here, nobody seemed to want to hear from an outsider.

  “We’ve had a little setback,” Priscilla said. “But I’m sure everything is going to work out.”

  Rosa suddenly appeared at Priscilla’s side with a can of Blue Sky Root Beer. She popped the top and handed it to her.

  “I remember how much you loved this,” Rosa said.

  “Aren’t you a dear,” Priscilla said, taking a dainty sip. “Mmmmm. As good as ever!”

  “I didn’t know you liked those,” Marco said, sounding defensive. “You could always put them on your shopping list.”

  Was Marco in some sort of competition with his sister for Priscilla’s attention? What was that about? Vivien noticed Jose went back to stocking the shelves, but his body language betrayed him. He was certainly paying attention to the conversation.

  “What’s the setback?” Rosa asked Priscilla.

  “I ran into a ditch,” Vivien offered.

  “That ditch has been there for years. I guess we just know to avoid it,” Rosa said shaking her head. “Take out your front end?”

  Vivien had no idea.

  “I need a new tie rod and ball joints,” Vivien offered.

  “That is your front end,” Marco said.

  “You’re not going anyplace,” Jose offered, without looking at any of them.

  “I have to get to San Diego,” Priscilla said. “Ray has got to get the truck fixed today.”

  “Or what?” Jose asked, finally turning toward the group.

  “There is no ‘or what,’” Priscilla said, sounding strong and determined, like she did when she was singing along with Janis Joplin. “I have to get to San Diego and I have to leave today.”
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  “Well, you’re not getting there in any truck that needs that kind of work,” Jose said.

  “Fine,” Priscilla said. “Then we’ll take Marco’s truck.”

  “What?” came a chorus of concerned and perplexed voices.

  “If Ray can’t fix Vivien’s truck in the next two hours,” Priscilla said, looking at her watch, “then we have no choice but to take Marco’s truck.”

  “You’re going to go with Marco now?” Vivien asked in astonishment.

  “Yes, dear,” Priscilla said. “But I’ll still need your tiny house for the trip.”

  “That’s just not possible,” Vivien said.

  “You could live in my house while we’re gone if you’d like,” Priscilla said. “It’s quite comfortable.”

  “My house really needs to stay with me,” Vivien said.

  She wondered why this entirely reasonable statement sounded so unreasonable.

  “All right,” Priscilla said. “Then Marco, you’ll just have to lend Vivien your truck.”

  “Priscilla, I love you,” Marco said. “But I can’t let Vivien drive my truck.”

  “Why not?” Vivien asked, although this was not the point and she knew it.

  “You can’t even get out of town, for one thing,” Marco said.

  “We can’t take your truck anyway,” Vivien said. “You need to have a trailer hitch.”

  “I have a trailer hitch,” Marco sneered.

  “Then it’s all settled,” Priscilla said. “Marco, bring a tent. You’ll have to sleep outside.”

  “We’re all going?” Marco and Vivien looked at each other in horror.

  “If Vivien won’t let you take her house and you won’t let her take your truck,” Priscilla said simply. “I can’t see any other solution. Come on! It’ll be the adventure of a lifetime.”

  “Maybe the adventure of your lifetime,” Jose said. “In my lifetime, I have a store to run.”

  “And Rosa will run it brilliantly, as usual,” Priscilla said, before sailing back out the door with Clay.

  Vivien saw Marco catch his sister’s eye. If she’d blinked, she would have missed Rosa’s slight nod which said, “Get going.” Marco left without looking at his father. Vivien finally got her feet to move. She walked out of the store with her eyes downcast. She didn’t want to try to decipher any subtext that seemed to be ping-ponging around the store.

  One thing was clear—whatever goodwill was going on between the two families during the coleslaw days was long gone.

  Chapter 21

  It occurred to Vivien that RVs had one big advantage over tiny houses. When you pulled up stakes in an RV, everything you owned could easily be battened down. Cupboards locked, closets snapped shut, furniture didn’t move. An RV was designed to be on the move. Vivien tried not to feel disloyal, but packing up Shrimpfork for a trip to California was not as easy as she’d first imagined. Shrimpfork was a tiny house in every sense of the word. If a trip was involved, the place had to be packed.

  But if somebody had to pack and organize a miniscule house, Vivien was the perfect person. She had all her belongings sorted—some things went into the deep storage in the loft, while she boxed kitchen supplies and bedding within easy reach.

  She had to admit she really was good at this.

  They were finally ready to go. Marco hooked Shrimpfork to his truck. Clay sat by the truck, having somehow gotten the memo that they were about to pull out. The only thing missing was Priscilla.

  Vivien looked at her phone to check the time.

  “If we don’t leave soon, we’re not going to get to Smith Lake before dark,” she said.

  “You know this is a completely lame idea, don’t you?” Marco asked.

  “It wasn’t my competently lame idea,” Vivien shot back.

  “No,” Marco said. “But you encouraged her.”

  “I did not,” Vivien said. “But if she’s going to go through with this, I want her to have some security knowing she has a sane person with her.”

  “Because I’m not a sane person?” Marco asked.

  “I don’t really know you,” Vivien said. “But for the record, I didn’t see you talking her out of this either.”

  It was obvious it was going to be a long trip and fighting was not going to help. Just talking to Marco seemed impossible—which was a shame, because after the trip to town, Vivien had a lot of questions. Prime among them: Why was Marco’s dad so hostile toward Priscilla?

  “I’ll go see what’s holding her up,” Marco said.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Vivien said. “I’ll go.”

  “That’s okay,” Marco said. “I’ll go.”

  The two of them faced off. Someone had to blink.

  “Fine,” Vivien said. “We’ll both go.”

  Clay saw the two of them turn toward the house and rocketed ahead.

  “I guess the three of us will go,” Marco said, watching Clay rush into the kitchen.

  They found Priscilla in the dining room. Hilda sat on the table along with two photograph albums. Beside her were two small suitcases. She was absently petting Clay, who panted at her side, but she didn’t look up when Vivien and Marco walked in.

  “Looks like you’re all set,” Vivien said.

  Priscilla continued to stare down at the table. Marco and Vivien looked at each other—what’s this?

  “Everything okay, Priscilla?” Marco asked.

  “I can’t go,” Priscilla said, tears in her eyes. “I got all caught up in this crazy idea, but it’s just that—a crazy idea! I’m sorry to have put you both through so much trouble.”

  Vivien stood frozen to the spot as Marco bent down on one knee in front of the old woman.

  “What’s going on?” he asked gently.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Priscilla said. “I was just so excited about finding Hilda. It reminded me of a time when I was fearless.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Marco asked.

  “Because I’m not that girl anymore,” Priscilla said, her voice cracking. “I realized it when I was in the store.”

  “Don’t let my father get to you,” Marco said. “You know how he is.”

  “It’s not just him,” Priscilla said. “I’m scared now.”

  “Of what?” Marco asked.

  “Everything,” Priscilla said. “And nothing. I just can’t put you kids in the position of heading out to parts unknown….”

  “San Diego is hardly unknown,” Marco said, smiling.

  “You know what I mean,” Priscilla said. “I’m a silly old woman. I just can’t make you guys take me on this wild-goose chase.”

  “Who says you can’t?” Vivien decided it was time to join the conversation.

  “She’s right, Priscilla,” Marco said. “You’re not making us do anything. We want to take you to San Diego. Don’t we, Vivien?”

  Vivien looked at Priscilla. Vivien tried to convince herself that Priscilla wanted her to agree this was a bad idea. But that was not what she saw at all. Yes, she saw Priscilla’s fear, but she also saw a longing to reclaim the teenage girl who shoved a one-eyed doll in a backpack and thumbed her way to California. Vivien turned her gaze to Marco. Was he playing Priscilla? Or did he really care about her?

  There was only one way to find out.

  “Yes, we want to go to San Diego.” Vivien looked at the time. “And we need to leave now.”

  * * * *

  “Will we be on Route 66? I used to love Route 66,” Priscilla said as they left I-25 for I-40 in Albuquerque. They were two hours into their trip. Priscilla seemed to be keeping her fears at bay by keeping up a steady stream of chatter in the front of the cab. Clay decided to ride in the back of the cab with Vivien.

  “Not if we stay on the highway,” Marco said. “Route 66 is now Central Avenue…
It’s a tourist destination rather than a thoroughfare.”

  “Let’s go!” Priscilla said. “We’re tourists!”

  Vivien looked toward Marco, who caught her eye in the rearview mirror. This would mean they’d get to Smith Lake after dark, but if it helped keep Priscilla happy, it wasn’t a bad idea. She shrugged an “okay” into the rearview mirror.

  “Why not?” Marco said.

  He put on his blinker and a few minutes later, Marco pulled his truck and Shrimpfork into the back of a large parking lot.

  “This is the best I can do pulling this,” he said, indicating Shrimpfork.

  Vivien took some satisfaction that she could park in a much smaller space. But she understood it was his truck.

  As they walked down restored downtown Albuquerque, Priscilla lit up. She had Clay on a leash in her left hand and Hilda dangling out of an oversized purse on her right shoulder. Flanked on either side by Vivien and Marco, Priscilla was as secure as they could make her.

  Vivien and Marco each stared at their phones, contradicting each other on directions at every corner. Vivien also insisted on taking selfies with Priscilla and Clay.

  “Marco, take a picture with us,” Priscilla said.

  “That’s okay,” Marco said, stepping back while Vivien expertly posed them all.

  “Then take our picture,” Priscilla said, trying to bob and weave to get herself close enough to Vivien to fit in the frame.

  “That defeats the point of a selfie,” Vivien said, as she opened her mouth in the frantic “I’m having so much fun” pose of her peers.

  “I love that you can tell the time, get directions, and take pictures with these phones,” Priscilla said.

  “You can text too,” Vivien added.

  “What is that?” Priscilla asked.

  “You know email?” Marco asked.

  Priscilla nodded.

  “It’s like that,” Vivien said

  “Can’t you get email on the phone?” Priscilla asked.

  “You can,” Marco said.

  “Then why do you need texts?” Priscilla asked.