A Patch in Time

I looked at the map, squinting my eyes to examine the fine print and detail of the noted landmarks and roads. Looking up once again, I glanced around, tall pine trees lined the narrow road and danced in the light airy breeze. I brushed the hair out of my face and leaned against the hood of the truck. Maybe I took a wrong turn? How did I end up in the middle of nowhere? It took a few seconds to realize I was utterly and completely lost. I took out my phone and lifted it up in the air, hoping for a signal. Nope, nothing. I faced the unknown. A feeling of dread and excitement pulsated throughout my body. I closed the map and hopped back into the pickup.

I turned the ignition key, and the Toyota roared to life. I leaned over the steering wheel and bowed my head. Lord, please help direct my path and show me the way. Amen. I then lifted my head and put the truck in drive, pulling onto the narrow-paved road.

I glanced at the clock as I continued down the weaving and winding road. It must have been already an hour. I then glanced at the gas indicator. The gauge was slightly below the full line. Luckily, I had plenty of fuel to spare, along with a spare can of gas mounted on the rear on the truck. The road began to descend, weaving through an overgrowth of thick trees and bushes. I carefully reduced my speed as the incline began to steepen. I began to wonder if there was even a remanent of civilization up ahead. Although uneasy, I relished the idea of adventure and road trips. It was a way to escape from the bustle and constant bombardment of our social media driven and interconnected world. Nature with its lush array of flora and fauna have had a mysterious lure on mankind since the dawn of human creation. My mind began to further wander into deep thoughts, the dark road becoming a hypnotic lull of constant turns and weaves.

Another hour had passed by as I continued along the weaves and turns. After what seemed like ages, the scenery began to change. The thick overcast of pine trees gave way to lush rolling hills dotted with clusters of brush and birch trees. I breathed out a sigh of relief for the change. Perhaps I could figure out my bearings a little better now that the landscape before me was more visible. The road unfortunately had become more dilapidated, as I felt the truck wobble incessantly over the pavement. I clutched the steering wheel firmly as I rolled down the windows, taking in the sweet scent of lush grass. Thick and fluffy clouds like soft marshmallows endlessly scattered the blue sky brightly illuminated by the overcast sun. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

Distracted, I was caught off guard when a deer came lunging out from the tall grass that lined the sides of the road. I panicked and slammed on the brakes swerving off to the right shoulder. An audible pop was heard as the truck jolted to a halt. I took a moment to gather myself as my heart pounded against my chest. Relieved that I hadn’t hit the deer, I shifted the truck in park and stepped out to assess the damage. The rear right tire had popped and was deflated. I squatted down and examined the tire. A puncture hole the size of a small grape had been pierced by a sharp object. Great, I’m lost and now a flat tire. Hoping that the truck had a spare, I looked under the rear tailgate. I was dismayed to discover that the spare was missing. I also did not have a patch kit handy. I rested my back on the tailgate of the truck, feeling frustration welling into tears.

Ten minutes must have passed after a distant rumble of engine caught my attention, and I lifted my head and turned toward the sound. An old white tow truck appeared on the horizon of the road coming into view. I stepped out into the road and tentatively waved my arms, signaling for help. The immaculate Mack truck halted next to the pickup. Wary, but relieved I braced my hand along my concealed Bersa. I couldn’t help but think of all the movies and stories about abducted or murdered women in the middle of nowhere. The door of the tow truck opened, and an old friendly looking man sauntered out. He approached me and amicably asked to assist me. I heartily agreed, and relaxed as he seemed genuine in his intent to help me. I mentally thanked God.

The Toyota was secured onto the tow truck’s boom. The man, or Ezra as he introduced himself told me we were all set to head back to his small hometown, Everbrook where he could patch up the tire at the gas station. He told me that not many people came through Everbrook, since it wasn’t located on the map. I asked whether it showed up on the GPS. He seemed confused or unaware of what GPS meant. I figured he must be an old timer sheltered from the modern usage of technology. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

After a few minutes we reached Everbrook. It was a one street town or more like a village. It was quaint and charming like out of a picture book, small storefronts and decorative houses lined the clean street. Old vintage cars in peak condition were parked along the sidewalks, their paint reflecting the shinning sun. I couldn’t help but feel that the air of the town had a strange antique and nostalgic quality. I didn’t think too much on it, as I was glad that help came when most needed.

We pulled into the gas station. Ezra hopped out of the Mack getting right away to work on the Toyota. I opened the door and hobbled out myself, admiring the town. Oddly, I noticed that there were no people in the town. The street was quiet and empty, except for the occasional chirps of birds and flapping of flags. I asked Ezra where everyone had gone. He told me that the town was having an annual picnic celebration down at the mill. Ezra stayed behind to keep an eye on the town and assist newcomers. I was curious and wanted to ask directions toward the mill, but I felt that it was not my place to pry into the town’s affairs.

As I waited on a bench, I helped myself to some Cracker Jacks and peanuts that Ezra kindly offered on house. I pondered about my journey so far and thought about where I was headed. Aunt Lynn and Uncle Jerry suggested I fly down to visit them, but I was insistent on taking the long route driving through the boonies to visit them. I couldn’t wait to tell them about my detour to Everbrook and the divinely appointed timing of my troubles.

Before I knew it, Ezra had finished patching the tire. I was elated and thanked him asking him what I owe. He motioned with his hand and declined, telling me that the patch was also on the house. I insisted, but he was firm and resolute in his decision. I thanked Ezra again and shook his hand. A warm feeling of comfort and peace swept over me. I told him how I would pay a visit again to Everbrook. He smiled and wished me safe travels directing me toward my destination. I started up the truck and rolled onto the main street, waving goodbye and watching the town of Everbrook in my rearview mirror fade away into the distance.

My phone rang and buzzed in the passenger seat momentarily jolting me. I quickly picked up and answered the call. Aunt Lynn was worried that I was lost, as they were expecting me five hours ago. I mentioned that I was ok and had a slight hiccup down the road. She was reassured and exclaimed that I would be well fed with her signature Vietnamese dinner. I chuckled and agreed that I was looking forward to her fantastic cooking. We said bye and I hung up. I turned on the radio and switched the stations till I heard a tune I enjoyed as the truck sailed smoothly across the highway.

I pulled up the gravel driveway and parked in front of Aunt Lynn and Uncle Jerry’s bungalow house. My phone bleeped out an arrived at destination remark. Yeah, how helpful you’ve been! I briskly silenced my phone. A door opened and a golden retriever came rushing out. Nala vigorously sauntered over wagging her tail as I stepped out of the truck and grabbed my bags. Shortly thereafter, Aunt Lynn and Uncle Jerry came out to greet and help me with my luggage. I gave the squirming Nala a good petting. We stormed up a conversation heading toward the house as I began to tell them about my journey.

Uncle Jerry sat across from me perplexed. I paused sipping my soup at the dinner table, just as flabbergasted. You mean to tell me that Everbrook was a ghost town since the 1960’s? I shook my head, telling him about Ezra. Uncle Jerry insisted and explained that ever since the mill was decommissioned, the town had been abandoned and effectively erased off the map. I tried to explain and went as far as to show Uncle Jerry and Aunt Lynn the patch on the tire proving I wasn’t imagining things. They shrugged their shoulders but believed that I was telling the truth. Although I couldn’t fully comprehend my experience, I knew deep down that an act of providence had occurred that day through a wrinkle in time.