by Ava Mallory
Diana groaned. “You're not going to cancel this trip, are you?”
I smiled as I spoke. “Not a chance.”
*
“Traveling alone?” The truck stop clerk asked as I set my jumbo cup of coffee and my giant bag of assorted chocolate candies down on the counter in front of him.
I quickly glanced around me with one of those looks that tried to convey that I was confident and just perusing the store to make sure I'd picked up everything I needed, but my fellow travelers, all clad in proper trucker attire, including the cold scowl that said 'hurry it up, lady', weren't the least bit interested in me and whether or not I was traveling alone.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Nope. I travel with my mean, old dog. He's a real killer, but I love him.”
Again, no one flinched. Why would they? I'm sure most of them walked past my rental and saw my sleeping pooch, nestled in blankets inside his cage in the back seat. I would have taken him out for a walk, but he resisted. Barney did what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it and no amount of cajoling was going to convince him to do otherwise, no matter how many treats I held in my hand or how much begging, pleading, and bribing I did.
The clerk laughed. “Killer dog, huh?” He pointed to the video screen, pointed directly into my car. How did I forget that the gas pumps had cameras on them?
“Oh, he's probably tired from chasing snakes.” I lied.
“Yeah, I'm sure that's why he's drooling on that blanket,” the clerk groaned sarcastically. “Where you headed?”
I looked at him wide-eyed, unsure of why he needed that information.
“Just asking because you only put ten dollars of gas in. That's not going to get you too far and the further you go out into the desert area, the fewer truck stops you'll find.” He explained.
That's right! I learned that the hard way the last time I made a trip to Nebraska. I had an economy car this time and didn't need much gas yet. If my sweet tooth hadn't been screaming at me to find the nearest piece of chocolate STAT, I wouldn't have bothered to stop at this truck stop in the first place. Another thing I'd learned the hard way – when the sweet tooth wanted something, it would behoove me to listen. Having my blood sugar tank, during my first official shift as a nurse, in front of one very handsome neurosurgeon, taught me that lesson. As in, my head hit the floor quite hard and aforementioned handsome neurosurgeon ended up having to treat me in the middle of the patient's room. Embarrassing, to say the least.
“Oh, well, I've taken this route before. I think I should be fine.” I said.
A small voice came from behind me. “If you're heading east, you might want to make sure that you're well-stocked. The heat is something awful out there. You'll feel like your skin is melting the further east you go. The weather is doing something awful all across the country.”
I turned, expecting to look the man eye-to-eye, based on his small voice, but I was staring at one rotund belly, covered in ketchup and mustard stains. My eyes followed the stains up to his neck, where a long, gray, straggly beard hung. I had to take a step back, against the counter to see his full face.
“There, you are.” I said by way of greeting. “Hi. Um, what were you saying about the weather, sir?”
He pulled his tiny train conductor hat off his head and offered me a smile and a nod. “I said that the weather reports are something awful. I just drove from Colorado and it ain't pretty.”
I sighed. “It ain't, huh?' I repeated, figuring now would not be the time to teach a grammar lesson.
“Nope. Colorado is fine, except for the rain, ma'am. But, they are saying that the rains are going to get heavier and the roads are going to be a downright mess. Where did you say you were heading?” He asked.
“Nebraska,” I said weakly. I had to drive through Colorado to get there.
The weary travelers did a collective sigh, followed by grunting and grumbling. Two hours from home and I'd already remembered that I had forgotten to pack a thermos full of coffee and I had no snacks for the road. The last thing I needed to worry about was more weather problems up ahead. The snowstorm they claimed would be hitting Nebraska would just be another in a long line of weather related anomalies to worry about. Happy trails to me!
I moved away from the counter to allow the other people to complete their purchases. “Well, I traveled that way last winter in an old jalopy, I think this car should do just fine on the roads.”
The clerk looked at me and nodded. “Sure, if you say so, but the weather's not the only thing you need to worry about, if you ask me.”
Right away, my defenses were up. What was that supposed to mean?
“And, just what is that supposed to mean exactly?” I asked, looking directly at the clerk. “Are you trying to imply that I'm incapable of taking care of myself because I'm just a woman, then you are sadly mistaken. I'll have you know...”
He held his hands up defensively. “Look lady, I'm just trying to tell you that the roads are rough when the weather starts acting up. I don't care if you are a man, woman, sleeping dog, or whatever. I get nothing but drivers in here all day long and, if these experienced drivers are saying that the route ain't easy, then, it ain't.”
It was no secret to family and friends that I had a tendency to let things get my blood boiling, especially when it came to people thinking that I didn't have what it took to survive, but this gentleman – if you wanted to call him that – didn't know that yet, so I had to give him the benefit of the doubt before things got out of control and I found myself driving a little too fast because of my frustration.
“Okay. I get it, but I think I'll be fine.” I softened my tone.
“If you would have let me finish, I was going to tell you that besides the washouts and the mudslides, you're going to face a freak snowstorm too. And, now, the news is reporting that there's some bank robbers on the run right where you're heading.” He explained.
Bank robbers?
Another customer chimed in. “Yeah, I heard that too. Some bank got robbed in Nebraska and there's some kind of manhunt going on out that way. The police have roadblocks up all throughout Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, and South Dakota. Be careful, whatever you do.”
Great! Now I have to worry about some armed bandits finding Nubbin before I did!
I checked my watch and calculated how many hours it would be until I was anywhere near Nebraska. I had plenty of time. By the time I crossed several state lines, those so-called robbers would be long gone. I just hoped they would have bypassed my wayward friend.
“Here we go, Barney. Let's hit the road.” I adjusted the mirror and looked back to check to see if he wanted to get out of the cage yet. He didn't flinch. Sometimes hanging out with him was like being alone. No conversation. No interaction. Just me, alone with my thoughts that sometimes found their way out of my mouth and often remained locked in my brain for only me to enjoy. I loved those kind of thoughts.
I reached in my bag to grab my phone before driving off. It was gone. I checked again and still didn't see it.
“Alright, when was the last time I saw it?” I asked myself.
I mentally retraced my steps, seeing it in my hand at the car rental place and sitting on top of my kitchen table when I went back to retrieve my bags and Barney.
“Where is it, Mercy? Where is it?” I asked myself as I dumped the contents of my purse out on the seat and began a frantic search of every nook and cranny of the rental car.
After fifteen minutes of searching everywhere I could think of, including going into the truck stop twice to look around, I still hadn't found it.
Barney finally woke up from his two-hour long slumber and barked. He was ready to go for a walk and I was panicking.
What could have happened to my phone?
I took Barney out of the cage, searched it. Still nothing. As he tended to his business, I climbed into the trunk of the car (Not the smartest idea, but I was desperate.) to search in there again. The bearded trucker walked past, noticed me and
asked, “Are you alright there, ma'am?”
Considering my hind quarters were saluting the sun, I'd say that no, I wasn't fine, but since I didn't think all three hundreds pounds of him would appreciate any lip from me, I refrained from saying anything sarcastic.
“Yes, I'm just looking for something.” I smiled as if all was okay.
“Oh, well, I'm glad you're still here because I just heard a report on the radio that State Troopers found some human remains at the western Nebraska border. Sounds like those bank robbers just upped the ante.” He said, chuckling and walking away.
Human remains? Nubbin!
Chapter Three
“There, that wasn't so bad, was it, Barney?” I asked between panting and swallowing my heart that took one giant leap into my throat as we crossed under the bridge in between Loveland and Fort Collins, Colorado. Except for the miles of water covered roads and the occasional hydroplaning vehicle, the trip went pretty well, I thought.
“We just have a little less than two hours left and we'll be home free,” I announced to my sleeping dog. He was proof that a dog could sleep through most anything, if they really put their mind to it.
I white-knuckled my way down the long stretch of road. They say that Colorado is beautiful and, I'm sure it is, but I was beginning to get the feeling that Mother Nature had no intention of letting me see that for myself.
Every time I'd traversed through this so-called lovely state, there was some major storm or another, ravaging large portions of it. And, call me fickle, but my idea of sightseeing and enjoying nature, had nothing to do with trying to outrun massive boulders or seeking shelter from snowstorms, tornadoes, or torrential rain.
Traffic was moving at a snail's pace. The two hours ahead of me would probably stretch to somewhere around four or five hours. It was bad enough that my fourteen hour trip had already eaten up twenty-four hours of my life. Mind you, that's time I'll never get back and, considering my questionable eating habits and lack of quality, sustained exercise, I needed every moment I could get. To do what with? Who knew! But, whatever it was would sure be fun – at the time.
The steering wheel fought me as I continued down the highway. I couldn't see anything beyond the vehicle in front of me, by this point.
Now, I was no expert driver, but I'd been driving long enough to know that one shouldn't drive with their foot on the brake. I just wished someone had told the poor sap in front of me that. For the last hour or so, he'd been leading the pack and, on more than one occasion, he'd come dangerously close to driving us all right off of I-25 and into a ditch, but who was I to judge?
“What do you say, I pull over, old boy?” I asked after the driver behind me – a highway patrolman, I might add – nearly took a chunk out of the back of my car.
Yeah, this isn't going to work, I thought. It is high time that I took a break.
I inched my way to an exit ramp and into town – what town, I didn't know, but I'd soon find out. The last few stops, it felt like I'd landed in ghost towns. (Oh, don't get me started about ghosts!)
Thankfully, this town wasn't deserted. A big box store, sat just adjacent to the off ramp. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Look, they're alive, Barney.” I said. “They are probably having a flood sale. If I knew how to swim, I'd stop and see what they had for sale.”
Barney stirred for a moment, but not enough to disturb his near-constant slumber. What a life!
A neon sign caught my attention on the opposite side of the road. Dinner!
I immediately pulled into the parking lot, being careful not to totally immerse the car in water, if I could help it.
“Barney, I found food. This diner is open twenty-four hours. Are you hungry, boy?” I was so excited. Barney had plenty of food to keep him satisfied, hence, all the sleeping, but I hadn't eaten since Utah and I was starving.
Barney opened his eyes ever so slightly when I got out of the car and reached into the back seat to check on him. Just as soon as he opened up his eyes completely, he quickly closed them and nodded back off, snoring in my face.
“C'mon, Barney. Let's get out and let you stretch those little legs of yours,” I said, but I was thinking, C'mon, Barney, I'm starving and tired. You know, I was driving while you dozed the last day away.
The smell of grease and chicken wafted through the air, almost covering the smell of standing water. My stomach growled loudly in response, so loud that Barney lurched up and ran out of his cage, barking.
“Now, you're awake? You couldn't have woken up twelve pounds ago. I figured that I'd lost somewhere near fifteen pounds due to a combination of stress, perspiring in fear, and lack of proper nutrition. At this rate, I'd be ready to join the pageant circuit before I knew it.
After a short jaunt through about two inches of standing rain, Barney had his fill of exercise for the day. I'd fed him and he was ready for another round of slumbering. As for myself, I was just about ready to chew my own arm off; I was so hungry.
As soon as Barney was safely secured, high atop a bench, directly in front of the small diner, I ran in and ordered everything on the menu. A small, elderly gentleman behind the counter didn't flinch. Obviously, there must have been something wrong with both his ears and his eyes for him not to notice the waif like figure, begging for a morsel of bread and some water – the drinking kind, that is.
I cleared my throat, but I wasn't sure if he could hear me over the sound of my stomach growling again. And that growl was something ugly, let me tell you.
His eyes remained glued to the television screen, hanging above the pass through window in between the counter and the cook, who was just as enthralled with whatever was happening on the television that he didn't seem to notice me either.
“Hello?” I tapped the counter top.
Neither gentlemen moved.
I spun around. In my haste, I hadn't noticed whether or not there were any other patrons in this fine established, equipped with a jukebox, three booths, and an assortment of bar stools.
“You are open, aren't you? That's what the sign says.” I said a little louder.
The cook looked at me, did a once over to admire my wrinkled T-shirt and Capri pants, then, turned his attention back to the television.
“If that's what the sign says, then I guess we are,” the gentleman nearer to me said, his back still facing me.
I sighed. I didn't have time for this. I realized that the apocalypse had hit their state, but I was desperate. I was starving and I had a friend that was missing. The least they could do was tend to my immediate need before I collapsed from malnutrition, then, they could send me on my way. After all, wasn't that their job?
My stomach begged me to go into that kitchen myself and whip up an omelette and bacon, but luckily, the rational part of my brain spoke louder and warned me that I'd probably not find another open eating establishment within the next few hours and I'd surely faint somewhere on the road.
“I'm sorry to bother you, but I've been on the road for a little over twenty-four hours. I've survived on candy bars and coffee and, quite honestly, I'm dying for a good cheeseburger or two.” I pretended to be joking, but on the inside, I could practically taste the cheeseburger already. I started to salivate. At least, I wasn't dehydrated yet.
The old man turned around to face me. The front of his hat said: Mack's Grill. I took a chance and assumed that he was Mack.
“I've heard great things about this diner. Why don't you give me that house special I've heard so much about and we'll call it good?” I flashed him a smile, but he didn't bite.
He looked out the window at my sleeping Pug and asked, “Is that your dog?”
What? I don't have time for small talk. I'm starving here, Mr. Diner Owner.
“Yes, that's my dog. I hope it's okay that he's there. I didn't want to leave him in the car.” I explained.
“Well, don't just stand there,” Mack scolded me. “Go get him. He'll drown out there.”
He walked around the co
unter and to the front door, whistling for Barney to get up. It was such a nice gesture, for a moment, I forgot how famished I was.
“Jimbo, get him something to eat and bring some water.” Mack ordered the cook. Remembering that I was still there, he added, “And get her something. She looks like she could use a bite.”
I could kiss him! I could, but I won't.
The cook went to work quickly, getting something for Barney to eat and a bowl of water. He walked out from behind a set of swinging doors and placed the bowls down on the floor in front of Barney. “Don't worry. That's tap water. Who knows what all this flooding will do with the tap water! What are you doing out in this weather anyway?”