Sunshine came streaming through the windows making it difficult to see some of the faded road signs. Actually, it wasn’t sunshine. It was light raining from the heavens above. Sunshine implied warmth thus this was some kind of imposter trying to fulfill the duties of the sun and failing hopelessly.
Despite the fact that the heat was set on maximum in her tiny rental car, she was still cold. She was completely unprepared for this type of weather. Even in the heart of a South African winter, a sweater and a thick jacket were sufficient and now four layers of clothing were just not cutting it.
She blew hot air on one hand and then the other, slowing the car down so she could take note of every road sign. She eventually spotted a sign for a gas station three miles down a road. What a Godsend! A gas station meant people. People meant she could ask someone for directions. Three miles. 1 mile = 1.6093 kilometers. Doing the math in her head, that was roughly 4.83 kilometers. She’d be there in no time. She followed the sign and turned left, letting out a breath of relief that she was finally back on track.
*****
The shushing of the truck’s brakes jolted Kevin from his state of semi-consciousness. He must have dozed off. He opened his eyes just in time to see Brady, the very friendly truck driver, pulling into a Cenex Quik Trip. A day and a half had passed since he left home and he had only put about four hours of road behind him. He was in Lockwood now, not even out of Montana yet.
He’d walked for over two hours yesterday before a family of four stopped and offered him a ride. They drove him to the outskirts of town and he walked for another hour before he decided to book into a motel for the night. After a light dinner, which he rationed so he could eat the rest for breakfast this morning, he’d done some research. He checked out different bus routes to get to Florida. He needed a back-up plan because this hitchhiking thing wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. He’d also searched for tips for hitchhikers and made a mental list of the ones that seemed likely to work:
1)Always appear friendly and approachable
2)Maintain eye contact when talking to a driver to show you have nothing to hide
3)Don’t cover your face. Look presentable.
4)Don’t keep your hands in your pockets.
5)Don’t be rude to the driver.
6)Smile!
After reading the last one, he went back to looking at bus routes. It was clear that he and hitchhiking weren’t going to get along. This morning, however, those tips proved to be helpful. He had only walked for about forty-five minutes before Brady picked him up. He was a friendly guy, but just like Kevin, he was not a big fan of talking, which made the drive quiet yet companionable. Brady was a family man. It was evident from the pictures of his wife and two kids that were stuck to the dashboard. Based on one day and two rides, Kevin could conclude that family men were more sympathetic to his plight.
“All right,” Brady said, bringing the truck to a stop, “so you need to go back up this road right here and take the I-90 East. Now, I don’t know exactly how to get there, never been out that far, but as you go from place to place, you’ll figure out how to get to Florida.”
Kevin reached to the back and grabbed his two duffle bags. “Thanks a lot, Brady. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I would want someone to do the same for my son.”
Kevin smiled as he hopped out. Yep, family men were his best bet.
“You take care of yourself and have a safe trip.”
He watched the eighteen-wheeler drive out and gave some thought to his next move. He could walk back down the road to the on-ramp, or just wait it out here at the gas station. In theend, waiting at the station seemed to be the option with more advantages. There was more likelihood of someone actually stopping here than at the on-ramp and because of the distance he was traveling, it also gave him the benefit of time to actually have a discussion with the driver. He needed to find out exactly how far he could get before he jumped into the car with some stranger.
The other convenience was the store behind him if and when he needed refreshments. He had no idea how long he was going to wait before he found another willing driver.
It seemed like hours had passed. Eight drivers had pulled in and after brief discussions with them, Kevin was still left stranded. All of them lived in or around Yellowstone County and none of them were even heading in his direction. It was looking hopeless and he resolved that he would wait another hour and if he still didn’t have a ride, he would find a way to the nearest bus station. If he remembered correctly, Brady had said that there was one about two miles away. He could walk if need be.
Taking a bus was a last resort. He wanted some control over where he went, where and when he stopped, and who he was stuck with for hours at a time. The thought of sitting on those uncomfortable seats for days with nothing but ten minute stops along the way were enough of a deterrent. A bus meant no showers, brushing his teeth in restrooms, sleeping in the station during a layover…No. He liked his personal space too much and that was enough to make hitchhiking the more appealing alternative. He would just have to take this day by day and see which options suited his needs at any specific point in his trip.
More minutes went by and he decided to go into the store to get a bottled water and maybe something to nibble on. He was hungry, but he still didn’t have much of an appetite to put down an entire meal.
He picked up his duffle bags and walked into the store. There was a short girl at the counter, a tiny little thing dressed like she’d been trekking through the artic. She must’ve had about twelve packets of Skittles on the counter in front of her. That was a serious sweet tooth.
Kevin walked past her to get to the fridges at the back of the store and took two bottles of water. After a moment’s thought, he took another bottle in case he needed to take that two mile stroll to the bus station.
“How do I get to the I-90?” the girl asked and it immediately caught his attention.
“Dear,” the man behind the counter responded with amusement, “you’re practically there. Did you not see the signs?”
“I’m not sure. The signs are all on the wrong side of the road.”
The cashier chuckled. “You mean the right side?”
“Which is the wrong side,” she replied almost helplessly.
