She got up, while it was still dark, with a mission. She meant to pack the car and head out, but her mind was full of hopes and fears, excitement and apprehensiveness pervasive in her mind. She blew some hair out of her face and grabbed a couple of her bags off the floor, slung them over each of her shoulders, quickly exited the room so the cats wouldn't escape, and walked down the dingy, dim hallway.
A stairway lay to her left and she bounded down it, her knees creaking and her muscles beginning to ache from the baggage that weighed her down. The staircase twisted ninety degrees and she followed it, huffing with exertion. When she reached the bottom, a glass door greeted her; she pressed the lever to open it by bending down and pressing her shoulder against it, the bags shifting uncomfortably producing a grimace on her reddening face. The cool night air hit her face as she set foot outside and sighed with relief, the bags rocking back to their original positions.
The sky was still completely dark, but she looked up at it and smiled as she walked across the parking lot. The cool air pleased her. As she closed in on her car, she dropped her bags, yanked the keys out of her pocket and unlocked the doors. She threw the bags into the back seat, making sure to leave room for the cat crate, when she heard someone behind her. She twirled around as she slammed her car door shut, her smile fading quickly.
"How much further do you have to go?" a man's voice rang out through the layer of mist that sat a couple feet above the ground. Her brown eyes scanned the dark, darting from left to right, and finally fell on an old pick up truck parked across the median from where she stood. The dome light was on inside, illuminating the dash board. The driver's side door was open slightly; a man stood next to the ajar door, legs crossed casually. "I've got awhile yet."
She swallowed hard, fell back against her car, her hands squished between her and the slick maroon paint, and made a quick decision in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion. The man seemed innocent enough, she thought, just another patron at the motel in the middle-of-nowhere New Mexico. But, on the other hand, he and she were the only two humans awake and walking around at that early hour, so if something bad happened, she'd have no one to hear her scream, and no phone nearby to call for help (it was still in her hotel room, where she had left it, in her haste, with her purse and other belongings). She studied the man curtly; he seemed a bit older, probably in his 50s; he was short, stout, wore glasses, and had a friendly smile.
She decided reluctantly to oblige him. "I have about a thousand miles to go," she answered quickly, her voice low and her eyes cast down. "I'm going to Minnesota."
"Wow, you might have further than me, even!" He closed the driver's side door and leaned against that side of the truck. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled brightly, his grey mustache curving with the line of his lips. "I'm going to back to New York. Just ending a nice summer road trip out west to visit family."
Her eyes made their way to his license plates. Yep, they said 'New York' on them. She darted them back at him and flashed him a closed smile.
"Do you drive it straight through?"
"No," she answered, locking her doors and awkwardly making her way towards the glass door that lead back inside. Her keys jingled as she thrust them back in her jeans pocket. "I'll be stopping one more time. I have my two cats with me and this trailer," she motioned to the trailer hitched to the back of her sedan, now walking backwards, "so it takes a bit longer."
"Yeah, that would slow ya down," the man called after her, chuckling as if he understood her plight. She kept walking, but threw him a smile over her shoulder. She felt like saying she was going to continue loading her car, but she thought it would be redundant to say so. What else would she be doing at 5:30am, especially since he saw her pack some bags into her car already? She shook her head to herself for being so paranoid.
She ran the motel's key card through the reader, a metal box hooked up on the frame of the door, the light flashed green and she pulled the door open. She bounded up the stairs; she started becoming cognizant of how sweaty she was once she was back inside the stuffy building. This place needs some circulation, she thought when she reached the landing. She glanced through a window at the opposite end of the hallway and sniggered. It might have something with the swimming pool being right there.
She squirmed, her skin crawling. Her hair started to stick to her neck, so she snatched the binder off of her wrist and twisted her hair up into a quick, messy bun. Her hair was extremely long, so anything she did to it, regardless of how utilitarian the 'do was, usually looked nice. And for that, she was thankful, because she had been, and always will be, extremely self-conscious about her looks.
She opened the door to her hotel and room, closed it behind her with a click, and when she saw how many bags she had left, and her two cats wandering around the room meowing at her, her heart sunk and her stomach twisted into a painful knot. She felt overwhelmed in that moment, no matter how hard she had tried to fight it up until that point. A lump formed in her throat and her eyes began to burn, but her mind immediately said, Don't cry, this journey will be over before you know it! She took in a deep breath, the tears still teasing at her eye lids. I know it's hard, but it'll be worth it to be back home!
When she breathed in, she cringed. Just the smell that lingered in the room made a tear run down her cheek. When she had first left her residence in Arizona, one of her cats peed in the pet carrier not even an hour out. Because of that little incident, which occurred barely 60 miles into her 1800 mile trek, everything smelled like cat urine and she couldn't wash it out. She had tried several times, but it stuck around in a pungent cloud. What luck!
"Bubba, Gabby, use the litter box before we go, okay? We won't be stopping again for two hours." Her feet slowly brought her past her two feline companions, their crate, their litter box and food bowl, and her purse that sat on the bed. She stopped when she reached the window at the far end of the room, the thick, gaudy gold and brown drapes drawn shut. Both of her hands rose in tandem, suddenly compelled to pull them open. Her fingers wiggled their way between the curtains, tightened around the edges, and threw them apart.
The image before her rocked her back an inch. She could see everything in the immediate vicinity from the window, which she hadn't noticed when she checked in the night before because it had been completely dark when she had done so. She spied her car below, parked lengthwise against a curb, taking up four spots with the trailer attached. The strange man's truck was still there, but he was nowhere to be found. She mentally sighed with relief; she somehow imagined that he had been checking out the stuff she was putting in her car and was planning on taking it when she went back inside. Like he was casing the joint. As far as she could tell, her car windows were still intact. She laughed under her breath. You're too paranoid, girl.
On the other side of the parking lot stood a field, or as close to a field as it could be for New Mexico. It was a desert field, mostly dirt of a lovely red hue, with a few shrubs, bushes and scrawny trees that dotted the landscape. The environment had been gradually changing as she drove across Arizona and New Mexico, from the hardcore desert she to which she had grown accustomed, to different colors and more greenery. She was very near Texas now, so a marked difference sprung forth from the shadows. Though it was beautiful, she was more than ready for green leaves as far as the eye could see, and she'd get exactly that the more north she traveled.
Kitty-corner from the lot was another motel, and across from that was a tiny gas station, the kind that closed up shop the moment it got dark. Other than those small businesses, there was nothing around except I-40 that ran lengthwise across New Mexico and the small road that lead to a nearby county road. She followed the small side road with her eyes, and in the distance she imagined herself driving off into the wide unknown on the county road. She planned to head more northeast, away from I-40, up through the panhandle of Texas and Oklahoma. She was excited to drive that way, because she had never been to those states before. Wide unknown, indeed.
The sky was beginning to transform into a royal blue, instead of the pitch black it had been only minutes before, and she peeled her eyes from the distant road to behold it. In the distance she could make out some vague hills that varied in color the further back they were situated. Beyond that, a bright orange twinkle, so very small in a tiny pin prick point, but she knew exactly what she was witnessing.
Sunrise.
For the first time that she could recall, she was watching the sunrise. She'd seen it before, like most adults have, but those were times when she was running off somewhere, or stopping for gas, or getting some coffee and a scone, or doing last minute homework, or getting ready for work... But this time... This time, she just stood where she found herself, breathing purposefully, calming herself, and trying to enjoy what might be the last time she ever found herself in New Mexico. She wanted to enjoy the moment, even though her journey urgently called for her to begin again. She felt adamant that little moments like this would enrich her and set the tone for the entire day.
The tiny orange dot grew second by second, and with each second that went by, the sky incrementally altered and transformed before her bewildered eyes. Not once did it look the same from the moment before. At first the blue hues in the sky changed, but as the orange dot climbed out from behind the hills, it morphed into magnificent purples and brilliant pinks, a mosaic of wispy clouds and atmosphere and plane contrails and stars. To her, it looked like something pulled directly out of one of her favorite fantasy novels; the ones where the skies are purple and there are two moons surmounting the curvature of the planet. The moon was still apparently visible, but the sun demanded attention now, crawling and clawing up higher and higher. The sun, in the moment where it was still a glimmer, rather than a fiercely beating ball of flames, almost acted as another moon in her awakening imagination.
The stress she had been feeling was now replaced with wonder. Yes, she was driving across the country, alone, with her two cats that meant the world to her, with a heavy trailer and only her phone to guide her. Yeah, that's scary. Anyone in their right mind would be at least a little iffy about it. But here she was anyway, on a journey. Though it was a huge change in her life and she was uncertain of her future, she counted herself among the most fortunate of people. Who else could say they drove across the country, alone, twice? Who else could say they've seen the scenery and wildlife that she had? Who else could say they lived on the other side of the country for two years? Who else could say they got to spend the last two years with their long lost grandmother? Who else could say they've seen and experienced everything she had? Who else could say they stood in the middle of New Mexico, at 6am, watching the sunrise? Only her. She could say that, and damn it, she as proud of it.
She felt like crying again, but this time it was a joyous crying, a grateful crying. She felt... blessed... for the lack of a better word, and grateful for everything she was and will continue to be. She had experienced more in her thirty years than most people did in an entire lifetime. She realized that many people found her life unstable, or they had an unsavory opinion of her. Let them think what they want, her mind said proudly. She felt a smile come to her lips again, and this time it stayed. My choices have led me to more experiences and more happiness than they could ever imagine. Life had been hard, but she wouldn't trade it for anything.
The orange ball was now halfway above the hills in the distance, the sky brightening to a light blue in some places. She shook her head. "I better get going, shouldn't I, Bubba?" she asked one of her cats who had climbed up on the nearby couch to attempt to see what she had been staring at. He meowed at her and Gabby joined him, tails wagging. "We've gotta get back to Minnesota."
Copyright 2013 by Erin M. Truesdale
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