Despite being vertically challenged, her father had always been an avid basketball player. What he lacked in height he made up for in speed. Being in top condition — combined with his age and the fact that his job as a postal carrier required him to walk six miles every day — made it all the more shocking when he’d suddenly had a heart attack just eight months prior. An unforeseen defect had resulted in one of the major blood vessels in his heart being far narrower than it should have been. A biological ticking time bomb.
Angie vividly remembered the night she’d gotten the news, and the distress it compounded in her just weeks after the Twin Towers had fallen. At the time, it seemed like the whole world was senselessly going to pieces.
The doctors warned of a fifty-fifty chance of stent failure in the first six months after they’d been placed to prop open the vessel in his heart. And for six months, their entire family held their collective breath. Even after that statistical hurdle had been overcome, Angie ceased to view any time spent with him as a given. Her preparations for the trip had been a welcome excuse to sit with him in the garage for hours on end as he went over the basics of car maintenance. Regardless of what happened, that was how she wanted to remember him — as a man who showed love best by working with his hands.
“I think it’ll do just fine.” She pressed optimism into her tone, trying to offset the unspoken worry she read in his face. He’d come to see her off. Her mother had offered her unenthusiastic farewell the night before, and Angie didn’t expect her to bear witness to the start of a venture she didn’t approve of in the first place.
“Here, give this to mom.” Angie withdrew a folded piece of paper from her pocket and held it out. “These are all the places I’ll be staying and the numbers you can reach me at. Every time I hop locations I’ll call when I’m about halfway and again when I get there,” she said, desperately wanting to sound responsible. Her parents had never given much reason to rebel against them — not that she’d been interested in such stereotypical teen displays of angst. This trip was the most risky life decision she’d ever made against their advice.
A calculated risk, she liked to remind herself and anyone who wanted to talk her out of it.
“I have a present for you.” Nicolas slipped the list into his back pocket before holding up her keys, showing off the small canister of travel mace he’d added to the key ring. “Just be careful with it,” he added. His typical fatherly disclaimer.
Angie allowed her honest delight to show in her smile as she accepted the keys and turned the device over to scan the directions. “Point and shoot. Sounds pretty straightforward.” She laughed and gave him an appreciative hug. It transitioned into more of a reassuring expression when he didn’t immediately release her. “I’ll be alright, Dad. Jesus loves me, and I’m hard to kill.” She repeated the running family joke in a light tone.
That got a low chuckle out of him. “You grew up too fast.” He cupped her shoulders and held her out at arm’s length.
“Thanks…for trying to understand.”
“Not like I could’ve stopped you. You’re an adult now.”
Angie cringed at the title she’d long fought for, but felt she still hadn’t earned. “You know what I mean. The car is still in your name, you could keep me from using it.”
“Well, I don’t think I have a right to hold you back.” He gave a fond smile. “I did my own cross country trip by motorcycle right after I got out of the army. So really, I’m just glad you’re at least using a car.”
“Me too.” She laughed.
“I love you.” He squeezed her shoulders, voice welling with tenderness. “And I’m proud of you. I’ve always been proud of you.”
Looking at him now, Angie marveled at how different he was since recovering from his heart attack. Both simply and profoundly put, this was not the same man she’d known while growing up. Throughout her childhood her father had been a volatile, frustrated, and unapproachable man, as his battle with his own temper seemed to leave him with no patience for his own offspring.
Like most approval-seeking children, Angie had struggled long and hard to impress him and earn his affection. Noting from an early age that quality time spent with him revolved solely around sports and outdoor activities, she’d become a tough-as-nails tomboy; in part out of the misguided impression that her father would have preferred it if she’d been a boy. Alternating between bottled emotions and aggressive outbursts, she’d spent years with undirected rage as her inheritance. She’d only recently come to realize how his angry detachment had affected her self-perception and comfort with her own femininity.
In a way, she was glad she hadn’t come to understand this until after the fact. Rather than considering her father a classic excuse for her own shortcomings, she now could only see him as living proof that people can change. And she’d found an odd eloquence in the notion that it had taken a physical heart condition to remedy an intangible heart condition. As idyllic as it might have been for her to know the man he’d recently become for the first seventeen years of her life as well — she knew him now. Better late than never.
“I love you too.” Angie leaned in to hug his neck again. When she let him go she turned away and walked around the front of her car. She didn’t want any more second thoughts, and she knew seeing him standing there looking forlorn would make her hesitate. Taking a few moments to put on music and lay out the map of her route, she managed to pull out of the drive with only a quick wave and a glance in her rear view mirror. She was glad to have at least made it out of the driveway before her tears won out.
After twenty minutes on the road, Angie reigned in her emotions and rallied her resolve. She needed all of her focus. It would take around twelve hours of driving before she reached her first destination in Ohio. That was plenty of time for her to reflect on why she was putting herself through this.
For as long as she could remember, Angie had been slightly above-average — from her height and physical strength, to her grades, intuition, and artistic capacity. She was athletic, but lacked the innate prowess of a competitive athlete. She was bright, but not a genius. Talented, but not elite. Good, but not best. While growing up she’d entered all sorts of contests, from writing, to art, to science fairs — never achieving first or second place, but consistently given honorable mention. A pat on the head, and a “good girl, keep trying.” She wasn’t in the top ten percent of her graduating class, but she was in the top twenty — were that considered worthy of recognition. She managed to excel at an array of things, yet always fell short of exceptional in any one area. To her, above-average had become only a small, yet frustrating step up from the mundane. Mediocrity with benefits.
Seeing her hope of one day becoming a writer in the light of realism, she knew above-average wasn’t going to cut it. If she was ever to go beyond entertaining the dream, she needed more under her belt than three years of reclusive internet storytelling — more than college English and a few creative writing courses. She would have to offer something unique and authentic.
It was this nagging conviction that had first sparked the idea of taking a road trip and experiencing more of the world first hand. If she couldn’t manage to be extraordinary by nature, she reasoned the next best thing was to attempt something extraordinary. She might even come across a more practical idea for a career path along the way.
Assuming she made it back safely.
Now that she’d nearly fallen apart while taking the first step on her journey, she had to wonder if she would have the strength to see it through to the end.
June 10,
And So It Begins
I beat the sun heading out this morning and drove straight east into it. The sky was totally clear, so I was treated to a lovely sunrise with all of those rich shades of red. My first stop was a rest station just outside of Madison, Wisconsin. I’m holding up alright so far, but I might use my next gas stop to take a nap. I’ll be more than halfway by then.
A nice old trucker was k
ind enough to show me where the cars are supposed to park at this rest stop. Evidently, I parked on the end where the big rigs go and he was afraid I might get run over. I must have looked like a clueless idiot. *sigh* I’ll get it right next time.
I found a swallowtail butterfly in the grass, nearly dead. I gave him some water droplets and sat him on the arm rest on the passenger’s side of my car. I named him Pete.
-I’m in Indiana right now. The nap helped me perk up. I’ve never been through this state before, but so far I’m convinced there’s nothing in Indiana. My road kill count has been impressive. It’s almost as though all of these animals came to the same realization about the monotony of this state, and then used the highway to end their misery. Okay, so maybe that’s a little harsh. I just wasn’t expecting so much of the same terrain. I don’t know why...it’s still the middle of the heartland, after all. The fields go on forever. If I wasn’t sure I’ve been driving in a straight line, I could swear that’s the third time I’ve passed the same silo.
-I made it to Brookville Ohio at 7:30pm. Now if only Alec were home so he and his mom could come and show me where they live. I’m sitting at a gas station, wondering if that was them I just saw drive by…
Status: In need of a shower, tired, but hanging in there. I think the fever is back, but the sore throat isn’t as bad as it’s been. Poor Pete didn’t make it.
~Ang
Chapter 3
Angie followed a red Dodge sedan as it wove through open farmland for half an hour before reaching a few dozen single-level houses clustered around a lone four-way stop sign. The car ahead hung a right, and then pulled into a driveway. She parked off to one side of it and got out. Though she’d stretched her legs at the gas station while waiting for her host family, her knees still ached with stiffness.
Alec’s mother, a plump woman with pleasantly rounded facial features, came spilling out of her driver’s seat. They’d only exchanged greetings through their car windows before setting off, and she seemed intent on making up for it by walking around Angie’s car with open arms.
“Glad you could make it back to see us!” The woman greeted. “Goodness you’re brave—all by yourself this time. We’ll have to have a chat later so I can instill a healthy fear of God in you!”
The maternal fussing was lighthearted, but Angie suspected the shorter woman was at least halfway serious as she stepped into the hug. “Don’t worry. I’ve already got a healthy fear of God. It’s a fear of people I probably need some work on.” She laughed. “Thanks for giving me a place to crash, Claire. I don’t want to impose at all.”
Claire stepped back to grasp Angie’s forearms, casting a sincere look over the rim of her broad, square glasses. “It’s good to have the company. Charlie’s away on business the next few days, so the timing worked out. I didn’t feel like explaining to him where you came from, anyway.”
Angie felt a twisting pang of guilt at realizing the woman had needed to omit her existence from conversations with her husband. When she’d first visited them on her test run over spring break, she’d only met Alec and his mother for lunch at a mall in a nearby town. While their meeting had been enjoyable, she’d gathered that Alec’s father wouldn’t be thrilled with him having internet friends — let alone meeting them in person.
“Alec can show you around while I make you up a room.” Claire called over her shoulder as she headed for the side door of the house.
Alec was slower to extract himself from the passenger side of the car, standing off to one side while the women had their exchange. He looked uncertain, which Angie had come to expect. Alec had always been expressive and open online and over the phone, but in person she knew him to be painfully shy. She took the initiative of bringing the welcoming hug to him.
And there was plenty of Alec to hug. Though they stood at the same height, Angie guessed him to be at least a hundred pounds overweight. Or at least, she’d thought that if he were to lose a hundred pounds, he could be considered attractive. The thought gave her a sense of disgust with herself on one hand, and saddened her on the other. She felt hypocritical to reject the shallowness of society’s expectations only to continue bowing to them in her mind. But at the same time, the health ramifications of her friend’s condition seemed a valid concern. Not that she had any idea how to address it.
“Show me around the neighborhood,” she said as she released him. “I could use a walk.”
“Oh…okay. Sure,” Alec answered in a soft mutter, falling into step with her down the short driveway. “Not much to see.” He turned his head aside, looking at her through the shaggy, chestnut-brown bangs that obscured his dark gaze. “Sorry we had trouble finding you. I should have been looking at the plates, not the car color,” he said, sheepish.
“Hey, you found me. That’s all that matters.”
They walked on past the stop sign for several blocks before the houses ended and they doubled back, turning right at the stop sign. It looked as though this would be the same sight down all four streets. That much, Angie didn’t mind. The awkward silence was another matter.
“So, did you get your driver’s license yet?” she asked.
“Oh, uh, no.” He looked over at her, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I kinda failed the driving test…again. I was hoping to retake it the day after tomorrow.”
“I failed my first driving exam,” she offered in commiseration. “I’m not great at following directions under pressure. Or at left hand turns, apparently. There goes my dream of driving for NASCAR.”
“Oh,” Alec picked up on the joke after a delay and chuckled. “I guess so.”
“I could help you practice.”
Alec brightened at the suggestion. “That’d be great. I really need to pass so I can drive myself to college this fall.”
She laughed. “Yeah. Trust me, college won’t be what it should be if your mother ends up dropping you off at all of your classes.”
Angie smiled, trying to soften the strength of her assertion. Alec was nineteen, an only child, and had been home-schooled his entire life. She didn’t have anything against home schooling, it just seemed likely to her that, in combination with being stuck in the-middle-of-nowhere-USA , his horizons could stand to be broadened. She was beginning to think she may not be nearly as sheltered and inexperienced as she’d initially thought — at least by comparison.
Alec fell quiet again through the final leg of their walk, watching the empty road in front of them until they crossed back into the gravel driveway to his front door.
“I should let a few people know that I’m still alive,” Angie said. “Would anyone mind if I used your internet?”
“Oh, sure.” Alec paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I think you’ll be sleeping in the office anyway, so you can help yourself. It’s just dial-up, so it’s pretty slow,” he said, apologetic. As he pushed open the door, a smoke colored tabby cat slipped past him and darted around Angie’s legs.
When Alec didn’t show any indication of being distressed by the feline’s escape, Angie followed him inside. She found herself in a small, blandly decorated living room across from an open kitchen. A larger calico stretched itself out along the arm of a tan corduroy couch, mewling to be pet.
“All my family had was dial-up until about a year ago. I’ll manage just fine.” She injected a light cheeriness into her tone as she greeted the cat and surveyed her surroundings.
Short of polite conversation, Angie decided not to feign chattiness in what little was left of the evening. She would have a couple of days to coax Alec out of his shell. Now that the drive was over with, exhaustion was settling over her like a lead blanket.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Stop! Left a little more,” Angie said, peering out the passenger side window of the little red sedan. Having laid out an obstacle course of orange cones through the parking lot of Alec’s church, she’d spent the last hour helping him navigate through it while his mother was occupied with choir practice.
Alec eased the car forward, narrowly missing the cone she’d warned him about. He curved with the path to the right and put the car in reverse as soon as he’d completed the course.
“Use your mirrors,” she reminded him as he looked over his shoulder and then began to work his way backward through the maze.
What started out as an exercise in frustration had steadily improved once they’d realized the car mirrors needed adjusting to Alec’s height rather than his mother’s. Angie resolved to remain silent this time, hoping for the best, but prepared for the dull thud of the back wheel bowling over a hapless cone. Alec unnerved easily, and she didn’t want to make things any more difficult on him.
As the car rolled to a stop, Alec shifted his gaze side to side in hopeful uncertainty. “Did I make it?”
She grinned at him and gave a thumbs-up. “Didn’t even touch one.”
Relief washed over Alec’s face, accompanied by what she thought might be some newly acquired confidence.
“Okay, one more time. Just to make sure that wasn’t a fluke,” he said, eyes locked ahead in concentration.
He took the course again, relying on his mirrors without being reminded. By the end, his grip on the steering wheel caused his fingers to go white from a lack of circulation, but his effort was a marked success. Alec looked both amazed and pleased as he put the vehicle into park.
Once Upon A Road Trip Page 3
