Truck Stop on Route 88

You must really have to understand why I took off the way I did.  Not that this is a good enough reason to leave my world behind.  But it actually happened.

I had everything I ever wanted in my life.  I had a family (three girls and two boys), a husband who met my every whimsical need (including my cravings for coffee chocolate chip ice cream from Hagen Daz at 2:00 in the morning).

Yes.  I should have been happy with what I already accomplished.  But there was something missing.  I suppose you might say my life was adventureless (if there is such a word in the dictionary).

It was midnight when I slipped out of my bed, grabbed my Louis Vuitton handbag and pulled out of the driveway in my green 2010 volvo.  I headed south on to the freeway and just kept on driving, passing through bustling towns and iconic valleys.

I stopped my car at 8:00 am in the morning, and entered a truck stop; the odor of sizzling bacon and eggs waiting to be consumed by the next person who walked through the doors.  The only other denizen was the cook; his apron showed stains of the grease that came from the grill, and his hair was disheveled.

He snapped to attention when I walked through the door.

“Oh, good morning.”  Can I interest you in a hot cup of coffee and the breakfast special.?  You just happen to come in right before the morning rush.  

I thanked him and ordered the only thing he had on the menu...baccon, eggs and grits.  I was actually famished and forgot about the diet that I promised myself I would follow for the next month.  I was throwing caution to the wind, when he offered me a slice of homemade apple pie and another steaming cup of coffee.

“So what are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’m just passing through.”  Can you tell me how far I am from the next town?

“Oh at least a good twenty miles,'' he answered.  If you stay on Route 88, the next town you will come to is …. Um let me see…..Berry Rapids.  Yes, that's it.  Berry Rapids.

“Well thank you for the breakfast and the directions.  I’ll just need to use the facilities before I get back on the road.”

“We only have one toilet here.  Don’t get much of a request to use it, but I keep it nice and clean just for folks like yourself.”

It was just as he described it….clean.  But there was a funky smell coming from the room; one that I could not describe to you.  I suddenly felt claustrophobic in that small bathroom and I turned on the water to wash my hands and face when I realized that the water coming from the tap was an ugly brown color.  Maybe that is where the odor was coming from.  I grabbed some tissues from my purse and went back to the counter.  There were still no other customers and as I went to thank the owner for his courtesy, I noticed that I was left there by myself.

I had no time to ponder at the disappearance of the cook and walked out of the truck stop toward my car.  I stopped in horror!  My car was gone.

I checked my purse and noticed that the keys were still in the pocket section of the bag where I had left them.  If that was the case, how could anyone have disappeared with my car?

I opened my bag and pulled out my cell phone.  It was an expensive phone, and it had a built in gps system, a navigation tool and was fully charged, but I found it totally inoperable.  There was no signal to be picked up at all.  I shuttered realizing that I was miles away from any other town (at least twenty miles).

Hours went by and nobody had even approached the truck stop.  I wondered how long it would be before my husband or kids would come looking for me.  I was certain they had to wonder where I was and would they worry about me if my phone calls went unanswered?

When nobody entered the restaurant that day or any day after I knew that I was left to my own devices.  The clothes that I had on my back that day was now my only uniform.  Although I knew that there was no shortage of food in that restaurant, I would not perish from starvation.

I found some cleaning supplies in a back room and was able to clean up the bathroom;  I hated having to enter the bathroom at all, but I managed to finally make it habitable.

The summer months came and went, with not one soul entering my establishment.  I never felt so alone in those long months and I wondered if I was losing my mind when I started to talk to ghostly voices.   

Those ghosts told me the stories about the original owner of the stop.  The original owner was a woman who was very unhappy with her life.  One night she awakened her husband in the darkest throes of the evening and told him that she was bored with their wealthy lifestyle; she explained to him that everything they ever wanted was at their fingertips...just for the asking.  I want to go out and explore the world and I will return here a happier woman when I have discovered the true meaning of life.  Do not fear for me or come searching for me.   I am stronger than you think and I will survive.  That was the last time the woman had seen her family. 

Legend has it that every ten years, a woman would walk through the doors of a lonely truck stop on Route 88.  She would have a hearty breakfast of sizzling bacon, eggs and grits and would never be heard from again.

I was the last woman to walk through that door.  It has been over ten years that I have remained surrounded by these greasy walls.  I wonder if someone else will walk through theses doors in my lifetime.