Arkansas

“You’re in my space!”

“Nuh-uh! She’s in your space. Just shove her over. She’s sleeping, she won’t know.” 

“Why can’t you just move?”

“I can’t move! I don’t have any more space!”

Mom closed her eyes and heaved a sigh before half turning in her seat and snapping, “Stop that bickering!” She glared at them both and there was silence for half a beat before a chorus of protests filled the air. 

She turned her glare on her husband in the driver's seat. He had the air of a man who was unaware of the presence of others in his space.

“Sean, do something” she instructed her husband.

Without taking his eyes off the road he absently said, “Girls, listen to your mother”.

She stared at him in disbelief. After all these years, it still astonished her how he seemed incapable of even hearing them bicker. He had an annoying habit of disappearing into his own little world whenever there was strife in the family and she was the one who always had to deal with it.

She let out a growl of frustration that was ignored by all but the small dog in her lap who was trying to get comfortable after being dislodged by her actions. A small paw stabbed into her thigh and she ground her teeth together before she plucked him off her lap and settled him on the floorboard, a move which earned her a grumble of protest. 

The year was 1985 and Sylvia was singing about Bobby being in Vicksburg on the radio. Meanwhile, she was stuck in a Bronco with her family, traveling to someplace she really didn't want to go in the heat of July.

In short, she was in hell. 

It was the same trip every year. Three hours north from Phoenix to Flagstaff before they turned east on I-40 which follows old Route 66. Their trip was just like the song, except in reverse. 

Gallup, New Mexico, on to Amarillo, Oklahoma City, which she did not think was very pretty. 

At that point, they’d change highways and make their way through Tulsa and over the border into Arkansas where they were finally just a few hours away from their destination - Henderson, Arkansas.

Everyone was getting cranky and ready for the trip to be over. Well, everyone except Sean. He had an inhuman love of driving.

They’d already been on the road for a day and a half and the only stops they'd made were for food, gas, and restroom breaks. Anybody would have thought they were a family on the run, but no, Sean just didn’t want to pay for hotel rooms so they drove straight through.

They still had another day and a half to go. Three days. That was how long it took to drive from Phoenix to Henderson. Three, long, cramped, tension-filled days.

She hated it.

But this was what they did for vacation every year. Camping for two weeks with Sean’s navy buddy, Mark, and his family.

The Christmas bonus was saved just for this trip. The preparations would begin weeks in advance as the pile of household items they would take with them grew.

“Campstove?” 

“Check.”

“Cookware?” 

“Check.” 

“Don’t forget the pool toys!” 

“Not yet. Those go in last because the kids are still using them.”

By the time they were ready to leave, the pile took up an entire wall in their dining room. This would all be loaded into the family boat and hauled across five states.

The kids would have a great time fishing, and swimming, and going on the boats. Sean and Mark would be like giddy children doing the same things. She and Kathy, Mark's wife, would mostly hang out at the campground reading and relaxing.

She really shouldn't complain. Outside of the heat, the bugs, cooking outdoors, sleeping on the ground, and having to walk to an outhouse every time she had to use the bathroom, what wasn't there to love about camping?

She rolled her eyes and took out her knitting to help kill the hours. They'd made it to Oklahoma and the land was flat, brown, and completely uninspiring. She wasn't certain which she hated more - the panhandle of Texas or the entire state of Oklahoma.

“Mom! Make her stop reading! It’s making me carsick.” She paused her knitting, squeezed her eyes shut, and without turning around this time said, “Then stop looking at her."

A stony silence answered her this time and she let out a sigh of relief. 

She put down her knitting and was just thinking of catching a nap when there was a noise that sounded like a gunshot. The Bronco swerved under the weight of a loaded trailer that had just lost a tire.

Her youngest let out a scream in fright while her oldest shot up out of a dead sleep, wild-eyed and trying to figure out what was going on. The dog started barking and was scrambling at her legs while she clutched the armrests, seeing her life flash before her eyes. 

Sean, however, looked calm. He made the necessary corrections to keep the car from being overpowered by an out-of-control trailer and managed to pull them safely into the median. 

Cars whizzed by at 70 miles an hour in both directions while they sat parked on the grass in-between. Without hesitation, Sean hopped out to check the damage.

She said “Girls, stay put!” and handed the dog over the seat before climbing out to see for herself. 

“We blew a tire,” he told her unnecessarily as they stared at the shredded rubber that was barely hanging onto the rim. 

“Don’t we have a spare?”

“Not for the trailer."

She felt a stab of fear in her gut and asked, “What are we going to do?”

“We’ll have to unhook and leave it here,” he said nonchalantly.

The fear was replaced by anger and she wanted to smack him! How had he not had planned for this? 

“Leave it here? We can’t just leave it here! Half our lives are packed in that boat! What if someone steals it?” Her hands gesticulated wildly as she ranted at him. 

 He looked at her with raised eyebrows and quietly said, “Calm down. We just passed a town not too far back. We can flip around and head back that way. I’m sure they’ll have a garage or a tire shop there.” 

 “And I suppose I’ll have to sit here in the middle of the highway while you drive off to go looking for a tire,” she spat at him.

The look on his face suggested she had lost her mind. “Of course not. We’ll just put the trailer lock on it.”

She heard the words, but it took a moment for them to punctuate the emotions that were screaming in her head. She crossed her arms over her chest then nodded once.

Of course. They’d use the trailer lock. She knew that. How many times had she had to set the lock herself after parking the trailer in the lot at the lake.

She stalked back to the car and climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door.

“What’s going on?”

“Why is dad unhitching the boat?”

“What happened?”

The questions flew at her fast, their words tumbling over each other in their haste to be heard. She looked at them in the rearview mirror, all saucer-eyes, and in her best mom-voice said, “It’s just a flat tire, girls. We have to go get a new one.”

She turned her attention to the side mirror, waiting for the signal to pull forward once he’d cranked the trailer tongue off the ball hitch. 

The silence from the back made her feel like maybe they were asking the same questions she had. Instead of explaining things though she instructed, “Get the bedding rolled up. We’ll need space for the new tire”. She had to sleep on those blankets too and she didn’t want them to smell like rubber.

There were the sounds of compliance coming from behind her and she felt the weight come off the back bumper a moment before she saw his hand waiving her off.

She put the Bronco in drive and pulled forward about a foot, then put it back in park and climbed into the passenger seat, displacing the dog who’d taken up shotgun position. He turned a couple of circles on her lap and curled into a ball, his rightful place reclaimed. She absently stroked his head while she stared stonily out this window.

 A moment later Sean slid back in the driver’s seat and pointed the car at the westbound lane. He waited until there was a gap in the traffic before peeling out onto the asphalt, then they were on their way.

Their boat looked so lonely sitting in the tall prairie grass as they passed it. She twisted in her seat, and watched the boat get smaller and smaller as they drove away and she had to swallow the lump that rose up in her throat. 

God she hated Arkansas.