A days journey

I looked at my watch, it was 9:36 am. Where was she? We had said we would meet here at 9:00 am. I walked around to the back of the rental truck I reached up on my tip toes and grabbed the cord and pulled down the gate on my worldly possessions and locked it. I was glad the gate worked well. At sixty-five I didn’t need it to get stuck and not work. Linda and I might be tough adventurous old birds, but there is a limit.

I walked around the big old house made into apartments. I was hoping this was the last time I would have to go up this stairway to my old apartment. The door to it was open. I stepped through the door to a deserted room. The wood floors gleamed.

In the kitchen the cat was asleep in its carry cage. A telephone sat on the end of the counter. I picked up the receiver. The phone had already been turned off. I stared into space as I set the receiver down in its cradle. What is keeping her?

My son was right, I should have bought a cell phone. It is hard to move into the future of technology. Linda had a new flip phone this kept our families happy about the long journey. I was moving to the east coast.

I decided to take the cat down to the truck. The truck was parked in the shade of the two-story building next door. The day hadn’t heated up yet. My darling Chi Bee would be fine. I figured she could get use to the truck. As I loaded her between the seats she complained. I rolled the windows down on both sides. It was 9:57 a.m. now, still no Linda. Maybe she was out in front.

I walk around to the front, no Linda. I went into the building and called up the stairwell, no Linda. I sat down on the front steps and envisioned all the awful things that could have happened to her. Twelve minutes later a white older style car pulled up. Linda got out, yanked open the back door and pulled her carry case out. She said something to her daughter and the car pulled away.

In a harried stressed voice Linda started “You can’t believe what a shit show my place is. I went in to take a shower and a man was painting the bathroom window.” I looked at her funny. “Mother is having the outside of the house painted.”

“Didn’t she tell you this was going to be done.”

“Of course not.”

This didn’t surprise me; I knew her, Mom.

 “The bloody painters parked their trucks in the drive and blocked all the cars in.”

“Get out of the street, the trucks in the back.”

As we walked to the back, she filled me in about her morning. “I had to go out and tell the painters not to paint that side of the house as I needed a shower.”

“This made you an hour and a half late.”

“I had to wake Caroline up and she wouldn’t go tell she had her shower.”

This explained everything. She was still a teenager by half a year.

I got the pleasure of showing her how to unlock the truck gate and left it up about two feet and where to put her carry case. We woke the cat up and it complained. We got in and it stopped.

We set the destination on the truck GPS. I was the first to drive. I started up the truck to the yowls of the cat. Linda asked, “When does she shut up.”

“Oh, she’ll get tired of complaining in not too long.”

The GPS told us how to get to the freeway, like I didn’t know. The cat yowled.

We passed Redmond, I told Linda how I and my kids had gone to summer camp not too far from there. Linda was silent and the cat kept yowling.

We passed the sign to Amboy. I told about the Amboy crater and the funny little desert town. Linda was silent and the cat kept yowling.

We went past a sign to Micheal’s cavern. I told about when I was a kid. I was told we were going to a volcano core the next day and I didn’t sleep that night. Linda was silent and the cat kept yowling.

We crossed the state line into Arizona, Linda and I were silent and the cat kept yowling.

I saw a sign for an outlet shopping mall just ahead. “This should be a good place to stop and get something to eat. Which place do you want to eat at.” Linda was silent and the cat kept yowling.

I parked alongside Burger King in a space marked for trucks. When I turned off the truck, all was silence. Linda and I popped the doors open at the same time. I slide out of the seat and hit the ground to a blast furnace of hot air. There was no way I could leave the cat in the truck. By the time I had come around the truck Linda was disappearing around Burger King.

I wrestled the cat and its carry case out from between the seats. I dragged it to the front of the fast-food place and found some round metal tables with attached benches. At one of them a middle-aged woman was waiting with her dog on a leash. I asked, “Could you watch my cat while I go and get something to eat.”

“Sure, I am waiting for my husband to get us something.”

I quickly hurried in and waited in line to order. As soon as I ordered I used the restroom. They were calling my name as I came out. When I went out with my lunch, the woman and her dog were gone. The cat and it’s carrier were still there. I sat next to it, eat my lunch, and watched as dogs sniffed at the cage as they were yanked back on their leaches. There were a lot of doges. Some owners of these dogs even commented on how pretty my Chi Bee was. I also, thought she was.

Linda showed up about fifteen minutes after I had finished my Burger and fries and the last sip of my Cola. I dragged the cage back to the truck and loaded her in. Linda took a turn at driving. She put the key in the ignition and turned the key. I held my breath, the truck started, and not a sound came from the cat carrier. We both breathed a sigh of relief.

The journey is just starting to get better. I enjoy not driving. The desert has always been a fascination to me. I watched the dust devils stir up the sand and one even crossed the road ahead of us. I was glad none hit us. I didn’t want to drive with a pitted windshield.

“Leslie turn on the radio, this is way to quite.”

I laughed, “Shall I bang on the cage to get my darling to yowl some more.”

“That’s not funny.”

I turned on the radio and found a country music station. “Is this OK.”

“It will do.”

Linda startled me in my mindless revere of endless sage brush. “We need gas.”

“The signs have been talking about good bar-b-Que chicken and gas in two miles.” 

“I’m not that hungry.”

I said, “We still have to get gas.”

She pulled the truck over to enter the gas station and I filled it up. In the end we stayed for dinner.

The waitress wasn’t to thrilled when we ordered half of a Bar-B-Que chicken plate, a small chef’s salad and a hot coffee, tea, and an extra plate. Older women aren’t good tippers either.  

I thought, O goody my turn to drive. The sun had set and we were close to our destination. I drove for about two hours and the GPS started to tell me to turn off the freeway in a quarter mile. I turned off and came to a stop at a signal at the bottom of the ramp. The GPS squawked turn left, in 300 feet turn right. I did as I was told by the machine. I came to the end of the 300 feet. I had passed a sign that told me the turn was an entrance to the freeway going the other way. Linda and I both agreed this can’t be right. I paused the truck in confusion.

 A horn honked behind me. I reluctantly pulled forward and turned right at the next street. The GPS was telling me I had messed up. It then said, “Turn right in a quarter mile”. I did as it said and turned. It instructed me to go to the next street and turn right. We were now headed back the way we came. GPS told us, “Turn right at signal.” This made me uneasy. I pulled up to the signal. The GPS told me, “Turn right.”

Linda commented, “This is crazy.”

I had the same feeling but turned anyway. Sure enough, “In 300 feet turn right.” There was no place to pull over and nothing to be seen in any direction. I made the same right turn to GPS encouragement. There was no pullover so we made right turns till we were headed for the Signal again.

Flashing lights came from behind and I pulled over to let a police car go by and way ahead of us it turned right at the signal. As I pulled up to the signal, GPS was squawking the same thing. Linda let out a, “Oh my gash”.

All the hairs on my body stood up and the chills went up and down my spine. A car was wrapped around a bridge support. Two police cars with lights flashing and sirens blared as another one was pulling up from the other side. An ambulance made an u turn in front of us.

The light turned green the only option was to carefully turn left. The freeway bridge was soon behind us with its on and off ramps. I felt lost and scared.

The GPS kicked in with, “In two and a third miles turn left at Crock Shank Road. I could feel Linda looking at me and exclaim. “That is the road the KOA is on!” Life just got better as we traveled down this long dark straight two-lane road. I still had a spooky uneasy feeling as we traveled to the turn off. It was reassuring to have a place to stay for the night.