The Road by John W. Howell © 2019
Just a couple more hours and I’ll be able to rest my eyes. Been on this damn highway for what seems like forever. His head slowly nods until the rumble strip noise causes him to jerk awake. “I have been asleep,” he yells. He yanks the wheel, and the tires screech in protest as he swerves back on to the highway. He can feel his heart in his chest and pressure in his eyes. In an instant, he regrets being so weak as to give in to the physical need. He also becomes alarmed since now he knows that sleep could overtake him without notice. One second, his eyes could be open and the next closed. Thank God for the jarring and noise of the rumble strips since without its alarm, he is sure he would have ended up piled into a tree.
As his heart settles down, he concentrates on the road ahead. There’s someone at the side about a half mile away. A hitchhiker by the looks of a backpack. A sign in the person’s hand is not readable at this distance. The thought occurs that It would be a good thing to have someone else in the car to help him stay awake. Of course, there are dangers in picking up a stranger. As he gets closer, he can see that the hitchhiker is not a guy like he thought. It’s a young woman about his age. She is wearing some kind of overalls, but the distinctive female form still comes through. He decides to slow down and assess the situation. A girl makes all the difference in trying to reach a decision for or against a pickup. After all, who knows where this could lead? He does know that in all probability, she is not likely to stick a knife in his ribs and demand his wallet after a couple of miles down the road.
He eases the car to the shoulder and can’t help kick up some dust in the process. The sign is facing him even as the person turns away to avoid the dust storm he has created. Kansas City in black marker on cardboard is all it says.
He opens the passenger door and waves her over. “I’m going to Kansas City. Want a ride?”
The young woman looks back at him, and he can tell she is doing an evaluation on the safety prospects of accepting a lift. She slowly hoists her backpack on to her shoulder and walks with hesitant steps toward the car. She puts her hand above her eyes to cut the glare of the sun and stops short of the door. She leans in. “Did you say you’re going to Kansas City?”
“Yes. Yes, I did. I also asked if you would like a ride.”
“That all depends on your intentions?”
“My intentions?”
“Yeah. You are offering a ride. How much will it cost me?”
“Cost you? I’m going to Kansas City. Your sign says Kansas City. Why would it cost you anything?”
“Just want to make sure is all.”
“No charge. I’ve been on the road forever, it seems, and I would welcome the company. My name is James.”
“Sorry, James. I know I sounded a little ungrateful, but I have also been on the road and have met several guys that think I owe them something for a ride.”
“I can understand that. Let’s just say you can ride or not it’s your choice. No other decisions to be made.”
“Fair enough. I accept your offer. My name is Sarah.” She slides in and slams the door.
“Nice to meet you, Sarah. You want to put your backpack in the rear?”
“No, I’ll just keep it here in the front with me. You can never tell.”
“Tell what?”
“When I’ll have to bail. Everything I own is in this pack, and I sure wouldn’t want to leave it behind.”
“I get it. No use trusting someone just cause they say you can.”
“Right. I think I like you, James.”
“Wainwright. My last name’s Wainwright. How about you?”
“Not sure I have a last name. I go by Sarah.”
“No last name? How can that be?”
“You going to start this car or is my fear well founded.”
James flushes as he turns the ignition. “Yeah, here we go.” He looks in the side mirror and signals as he pulls back on the highway.
“You are a cautious one. There’s no one for miles.”
“I guess it’s a habit from city driving.” He keeps checking in the mirror until he is up to highway speed
“Where you from, James?”
“New York. You?”
“I think I was originally from down south somewhere.”
“You don’t know?”
“Well, it’s been a long time.” She pauses.
James glances at her and sees that she is lost in thought somewhere. Her skin is fair, and she has the high cheekbones and lips of a runway model. She looks vaguely familiar, and he compares her looks to Joni Mitchell. There is that innocent, fragile look that makes you want to take care of her.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She is back.
“I didn’t say anything. I’m amazed you don’t know where you are from.”
“Well do you remember where you’re from or is it someone told you?”
She has a point. James only knew he was born in Chicago because his parents told him so. He lived in New York for twenty years so unless clued in he would have thought he lived there his whole life. “I guess I should rephrase the question. Where did you last live?”
“Yes, James. That makes a little more sense. I last lived in Dubuque, Iowa.”
“What a coincidence. I am driving from Dubuque. Do you believe that?”
“I can believe that. Someone once said there are only six degrees of separation of everyone on Earth. You and I traveling from Dubuque at the same time certainly falls into that realm.”
“Aw come on, Sarah. We are both going from Dubuque to Kansas City. That has to be more than a coincidence.”
“I never said I was going to Kansas City, James.”
“Wait. You have that sign that says Kansas City.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m going there.”
“What does it mean?”
“You think I know?”
“I’m getting a weird feeling here, Sarah. Like you aren’t telling me something.”
“Do you remember swerving after you ran off the highway?”
“What? Back there. Yeah, I remember almost falling asleep. Hey, wait a minute. How would you know about that?”
“Think a minute, James. How do you think I would know about that moment?”
“Sarah I’m too tired for guessing games. What is this all about?”
“Do you feel okay, James?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
“Look around. Do you see any other cars?”
“No, but I haven’t for a while. What are you trying to tell me, Sarah?”
“You fell asleep James.”
“When did I fall asleep? I know I nodded off, but when did I fall asleep?”
“Just before your car went off the road and you hit a cement culvert.”
“Now, you are joking. Right? Right, Sarah?”
“No joke, James. Look ahead. What do you see?”
“Uh up the road, you mean?”
“Yes, up the road.”
“Nothing but what looks like a sandstorm.”
“It’s no storm, James. It is nothing.”
“Who are you anyway?”
“Do you remember that little girl who went missing in the second grade?”
“Yeah, what does that have to do with you?”
“Does the nickname Jimmy Jeans mean anything?”
“That’s what Sarah called me in the second grade.”
“How did I know that?”
“You wouldn’t unless.”
“Unless I’m Sarah.”
“Oh My God. Sarah. It is you. Where have you been?”
“That’s not important. What is important is you were broken hearted when I vanished. You prayed for my return and made promises to God if only I would come back.”
“I never got over that either. I think of that little gir¾. I mean, I thought of you almost every day. Why didn’t I recognize you?”
“Cause I’m all grown up. There would be no way.”
“Where have you been Sarah. I have missed you so much.”
“Don’t cry, James. I’m here with you now.”
“Can you tell me what happened to you?”
“No, James, it’s not worth the time.”
“So why now? Why are you here now?”
“To help you, James.”
“To help me. How?”
“To understand what your life is like now.”
“Now? What do you mean?”
“You were in an accident, James. You ran off the road, and I am sorry to say your body didn’t survive. You are now going with me on an eternal trip.”
“You are saying I’m dead. I can’t believe that. Look at me. I’m just as alive as you.”
“That’s right. You are.”
“Um, Sarah?”
“Yes, James.”
“You are dead too?”
“Yes, James. A man took me from school and killed me. They never found my body.”
“W-what?”
“Don’t think about that now. Think about the future. Because you prayed so hard and missed me so much, I was given the honor of escorting you to the other side.”
“Other side? There’s a Future?”
“A wonderful one. You and I for all time.”
“I would like that.”
“Take my hand then. Let’s be off.”
“I have more questions.”
“All in good time, James. All in good time.”
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given one the opportunity to live where she wants and to help her child attend the college of her choice. I know another who is able to spend more time with her family than when she worked a 9-5 job.
wide as the church aisle, all satin and with beads and sparkly doodads. And I’d have ten bridesmaids and a groom in a tux, and the church would be full of friends and family. Wow! Cinderella would have been envious.
around to his way of thinking and each year we dated my wedding dreams became more conservative.
at Jack’s parents’ house. We went camping for our honeymoon. The whole wedding, pictures and all, cost less than $500. And it couldn’t have been more perfect. For us.
Black Velvet Seductions author Carol Schoenig has just won the 
Creative Commons) For this act, the equivalent today of taking 10£, she was sentenced to fourteen years imprisonment in Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania Australia, the sort of triangular-shaped island off the southern coast of Australia). The 13,000 miles journey on the convict ship Hope took approximately three months.
Tasmania, now seen as a beautiful island and a vacation destination, was not viewed with much hope when it was one of the harshest penal colonies in a land of penal colonies. There are stories of convicts choosing almost certain death by escaping into the bush because death was better than life
in the colony. If they weren’t recaptured, they died due to lack of skills and the deadly snakes or other wild animals in the bush. Still, taking a chance against the huge tiger snakes was seen as better than the horrible floggings they suffered otherwise. Eleanor fared better than some.
know when Bridget left Van Diemen’s Land for the mainland or why she moved on to western New South Wales but there, aged 25, she married Richard, a bullock driver.
slivers of hand-made soap on top. After the clothes boiled for a few minutes they were pulled out with a copper stick and heaved into the rinse trough. Many a naughty child’s backside felt the whack of the copper stick.
I truly admire people who garden. They make the world a brighter place, a happier place. I could sit for hours surrounded by green plants and brilliant blooms…and talk to the person digging in the ground. But ask me to dig and pull weeds and plop a tiny seedling into rich loam? I’d destroy the whole setting in a matter of hours. I can’t tell a weed from a begonia. I don’t know which roots go shallow and which go deep. I can’t differentiate between a creeper and a tall plant that needs support. In short, I’m hopeless in a garden. Please don’t ask me to help in any way.
made the comment to my mom and aunt that I wondered how one particular yard had such beautiful, big blooms, and a woman I hadn’t seen standing there said, “It takes a lot of work.” I imagine so!
I absolutely, positively, without question believe in TRUE LOVE. I believe because I’ve seen what it looks like and what it doesn’t look like. I’ve known some fine, wonderful women who have not won in love. Here are four ways I know true love exists.
we always talked about it and decided which solution best fit us as a team. He moved to Idaho because I had a job opportunity. I gave up my work in order to follow him while he succeeded at consulting. When I had such horrid back problems I could barely stand to get out of bed, Jack got up with me at butt-ugly o’clock and walked around the parking area until I could function, then he faced a full day’s work. He never complained. We’ve always accommodated each other for the good of the team and for love. NOT true love thinks of themselves and not the other person.
surprise ice cream sandwich from Sonic or a hot cup of coffee. 😉 Feeling cherished means giving the other person what they need when they need it. For me that includes hearing “I love you,” too, but it goes far beyond that. NOT true love might say the words, might give the big gifts, but doesn’t show the meaning beyond them.
Gibby is no stranger to the perils of romance. Single until the age of 37, she dated many an interesting (dare we say crazy) guy until meeting the love of her life, Jim. They are married and live in the Cleveland, Ohio area with their very spoiled dog, Scoob. Gibby believes there is no true norm when it comes to relationships, and they all take hard work and dedication. When she’s not writing, you can usually find her hiking, at the theatre, or napping.