Bad Directions

“Looks like rain.”

“Reckon so.”

“We could use some rain.”

“You’re right about that. It’s so dry, the trees are bribing the dogs.”

“Say Charles, is that anyone we know?”

“Who?”

“Shiny black SUV. Just turned off of Main.”

“Nope, none of my people.”

“Look, now they’re coming back. Must be lost.”

“Not much out here to get lost in.”

“Didn’t there used to a be a highway sign? Right there at the light?”

“If I remember right, the Hardison boys knocked it over in the combine.”

“Look, there’s the car, coming back again. They must be lost.”

“Lost as last year’s Easter egg.”

Gravel crunched under the tires of the SUV as it turned into the parking lot of CJ’s Minimart. Joe and Charles sat in paint-chipped rocking chairs on the sagging porch, as they always did, with sunflower seed shells scattered at their feet. A woman in a turtleneck and slick ponytail stepped out of the car, squinting at her cell phone. She teetered over the uneven gravel to where Joe and Charles rocked, hands over paunchy bellies.

“Hello gentlemen, it looks like I’ve got myself a bit turned around, and I can’t get a signal out here. Would one of you mind directing me to Cedar Branch Acres? Off highway 171?”

“Cedar Branch Acres you say?”

“Yes, do you know it?”

“Sure do. I’m Joe by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Diane.”

“Well, Ms. Diane, if you come to the light here and turn right, go a ways until you see the old tobacco barn, you can’t miss it, and the property will be on the left.”

“Okay, so turn right, old barn, property on the left. Thank you!”

“Sure thing, ma’am.”

The tires kicked up a cloud of dust when she pulled away.

“What are you up to, Joe?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Charles.”

“You know she’ll be ill as a hornet when she comes back.”

Ten minutes later, a black SUV turned onto Main, and rolled to a stop in the parking lot of CJ’s Minimart. The woman didn’t bother to shut the door when she stepped out again.

“Okay, hello again, I think you may have forgotten a turn. I went right, and there was no barn, and no signs for Cedar Branch Acres.”

“Did I say right? Well, butter my buns and call me a biscuit, I meant to say left.”

“So, left?”

“Right.”

“Right?”

“No, left.”

“Okay so you’re saying turn left, then pass the barn, then the property will be on the left. Is that correct?”

“Yep, that’s right.”

“Okay, then. Well, I’ll be going now. You two enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

Gravel clinked against the light pole when she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Now, Joe, you know you’re just asking for trouble.”

“It’s my poor old mind Charles, you know how it is.”

“Now you might be ugly, but you ain’t lost all your marbles yet, Joe. What are you playing at? Why didn’t you just tell her?”

“Seems like folk are asking lots of questions today.”

“Folks can ask any questions they want.”

“And I’ll answer them when I feel like it.”

“You sure are crabby today. Ugly and crabby.”

“Now we got something else in common.”

Ten minutes passed in silence before the men heard the engine of the black SUV revving down Main. They watched as it slowed to a stop in front of the minimart. The woman in the turtleneck stepped out, her forehead dotted with beads of sweat.

“Alright, I did exactly what you said, and I ended up at a pig farm. Look, I have an important meeting at Cedar Branch Acres, and I really don’t have time to be getting lost. Is there anyone else who can give me directions? Or a map maybe?”

“I might have a map in the truck.”

“Thank you, sir, Mister—”

“It’s Charles, ma’am.”

“Charles, thank you for your help.”

“Sure thing, give me a hot minute and I’ll see what I’ve got.”

“Great, thank you.”

“Okay, here we go, sorry for your wait. This is all I’ve got in the way of maps.”

“Oh my. Looks a bit water damaged.”

“Probably from when I drove through the creek.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. Me and this rust bucket have had some adventures.”

“Um, Mr. Charles, I don’t mean to be unappreciative, but this map is from 1952. It doesn’t show Highway 171 anywhere.”

“1952? Well, wouldn’t you know it, I got myself an antique.”

“Yes, that’s nice, but this is useless to me right now.”

“Ms. Diane?”

“Yes, uh, Joe was it?”

“Yep. I just realized, you have to go past this light, and then turn left. I knew I had something mixed up.”

“Are you absolutely positive?”

“As sure as the sunrise.”

“So, I go past this light, take a left, go past the barn, and then the property will be on the left?”

“That’s right.”

“Okay. I’m leaving now, and I do not want to have to come back.”

“You take care now!”

They watched the taillights disappear around the corner.

“So, you finally came to your senses, Joe?”

“You can say that.”

The men sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic creaking of the rocking chairs.

The SUV didn’t bother to stop at the red light when it sped back down Main Street and skidded to a stop in the parking lot of CJ’s Minimart.

“Oh, boy, you done it now, Joe. She looks madder than a wet cat.”

The woman’s hair poked out of her elastic tie in several places and sweat stained the underarms of her turtleneck.

“Alright, I can’t believe I’m back here again. I found the property, but the gate is locked, and I was supposed to meet the owners today. They know I’m coming, but I can’t get in. Do either of you have a phone I could use? I don’t know what else to do at this point.”

“You’re welcome to use mine. I just put more minutes on it.”

“Minutes? Okay then. Let me just find his number in my file here.”

“Take your time ma’am.”

“Ah, here we go. Okay, it’s ringing!”

A jaunty ringtone exploded from Joe’s shirt pocket. He pulled it out casually and mashed the answer key.

“Joseph Harris of Cedar Branch Acres speaking.”

“What in the—but—you—it’s you—what is wrong with you? I was sent all the way down here to discuss the sale of your property and you think this is all some game?”

Joe rose from the paint-chipped rocking chair and stretched. “Now that I have your full attention, you can get back in your overpriced set of wheels and tell those high-falutin, city-slicker developers that I will never sell my land. Not one acre, not one square inch, not one blade of grass. This land has been in my family for over 100 years, and I intend to keep it that way. I don’t want another call, no more letters, no more emails, no more suits showing up at my door waving checks in my face. Have I made myself clear?”

The file of paperwork flew open and scattered across the parking lot when the woman cast it at Joe’s feet and stormed off in a huff. Bits of gravel pelted the men’s denim clad legs when she tore away. Joe settled back into the rocking chair.

“Told you she’d pitch a hissy fit.”

“You were right, Charles. I probably was a bit too hard on her.”

“Are you kidding? That’s the most fun I’ve had all day.”

“Well, more fun’s coming. Looks like rain.”

“We could use some rain.”