The Great Adventure, Day 2

Day one of my trip was by far no disappointment, we made great progress, but though my daughter and I had not argued, we did not talk about much, either.  I chalked it up to me being so tired.  The motel was so filthy, I didn’t sleep well last night either, but I did get some rest.  I was up quite late playing on the computer.  The alarm went off way too early for me, but I took the Nuvigil designed to keep me awake, and the Ritalin which keeps my thoughts from floating around my mind aimlessly while I try to complete a task.  You would think given the number of stimulants I take every day, I would never be tired, but I still felt groggy.  I guess no amount of stimulants can cover for chronic insomnia and nightmares when I do sleep.  We checked out and headed for the nearest McDonalds so we could plan the day we wanted to the night before.

I got an iced coffee, something that is usually very bad for me to take in addition to the Nuvigil and the Ritalin.  Caffeine is yet another stimulant, but I felt like I was sluggish.  I wanted to be alert today.  We spent about an hour at McDonald’s, checking our Facebook status, email and bank account.  We didn’t talk about a whole lot except how far we wanted to drive and what city we thought would be a good place to end up.  Milena was a little irritable, but nothing bothersome.  There was a WalMart right behind the McDonald’s and she wanted some snacks and had forgotten her toothbrush.  She went in to get what she wanted while I made some phone calls.  By the time we finished, we were off to a late start for the day, but we were in no real hurry, we had plenty of time to make it to our destination.  The one thing I did not want to do was stress out by trying to get to Tucson ASAP.  Milena started out driving again so I would take over during rush hour traffic.  She was more comfortable today driving, but still a little nervous about being able to only use the mirrors.  I started some chit chat, but Milena wanted to concentrate on the road.  It was hard for me not to talk, but I wanted her attention to be on the road! 

We stopped frequently for gas, never allowing to tank to get below one-half if we could help it.  We were warned there were parts of Oklahoma and New Mexico that had long stretches without any exits for commerce.  We were well informed!  We were not on the road very long before we had another close call! Whenever you are walking in the path of grace, the forces of evil and happenstance will attempt to thwart your efforts.  It is the way the universe works.  Oppositional forces attract, and neutral forces attempt to merge with stronger forces, whether the forces are good or evil.  We had already been threatened the day before by happenstance, but this was a force of evil, I could feel it.  It amazes me how susceptible people are to the forces of evil.  Some people allow evil to work through them, sometimes without realizing what the consequences may be.  I wonder if the forces of good guide us as easily.  As an optimist, I believe they do.  The pessimistic side of me just hopes they do. 

Milena was driving and her lane was ending.  She put on her signal, and looked to see if the next lane over was clear.  I was looking as well.  The lane was clear.  Two lanes over was a silver passenger truck following a car.  Just as Milena was starting to change into the next lane, the silver truck decided it couldn’t follow the car a moment longer.  It darted into the same lane Milena was changing into at the same time she was attempting to move the car into the lane!  She had to swiftly jerk the car back into the ending lane, and lost control of the car for just a moment, but it was a very long moment.  I knew it wasn’t her fault and she needed all of her concentration to regain control of the car.  Despite the urge to yell, all that crossed my mind was “Don’t fucking yell at her, don’t fucking yell at her!”  I didn’t, and she regained control of the swerving vehicle.  It was a terrifying moment.  The truck which had nearly killed us sped out of sight.  I am convinced the intervention of Angels prevented not only the accident, but prevented us from any harm at all.  Had a single instant occurred ever so slightly different, we could have easily been killed in the accident.  I had packed the car so well, and so tightly, that the load did not shift, even a little.  Had the load in the car shifted, Milena would not have been able to regain control of the wildly swerving vehicle.  After the initial panic, she forgot for a moment her lane was ending.  That was when I reminded her she still needed to get over.  She was nervous and upset, but she did manage to change the lane safely.  Two days on the road, and two near collisions.  I was afraid of what the rest of the trip would bring.  I was wondering if we would survive the trip, but I had a hard time believing I was being led to Arizona in order to be killed along the way.  I couldn’t believe death or injury was in the plan.

Despite the close call, Milena said she still wanted to drive for a while.  She did an amazing job averting the accident and maintaining her wits.  I told her she did a great job and I was proud of her.  I doubted I could have handled the situation any better myself.  Despite her young years and relative lack of experience, she acted with incredible bravery and focus.  She stayed calm and did what needed to be done.  She was, however, pissed as hell and I heard about the truck driver for at least the next half hour.  It was a small price to pay for still being alive and in one piece.  We had only been on the road for a few hours but we were starving.  Having the shit scared out you tends to build up your appetite!  We pulled off the highway in a very small town near the Missouri border.  We were kind of tickled at having to ask what town we were in every time we stopped anywhere.  This town had a funny little name I can’t remember, but the bathroom had pictures of the potty dance on it!  It was the cutest thing ever!  It had a little Subway shop where we grabbed a sub.  Every time we stopped to eat, we gave Angel a potty and locked her in a running car with the air on.  The temperatures were ranging from the high 90’s into the 100’s with high humidity.  Some stops taxed my asthma so badly; it was all I could do to walk from the car to the building.  Struggling to breath is exhausting.  It wore me out so completely, I was having trouble eating, and I could tell I was losing weight again. 

Record heat waves were being reported across the nation.  The entire feeling of this move reminded me so much of when I left my first husband, though the circumstances were in complete disparity to one another.  When I left Ron, I felt as if I was leaping off a cliff without a parachute or a soft place to land.  I didn’t have much a plan, nor did I have any resources.  I had no friends, because when an abusive man gets a hold of you, he isolates you from any friends or support systems.  It is part of the profile of an abuser.  But when I left him, I left with only what I could fit in my car.  It was a record breaking summer in August of 1988 as well.  I left on August 5^th, 1988 and the temperature that day reached 101 degrees.  It set a record.  Here I was again, leaving all I knew during a record heat wave across the nation with all I could fit in my car.  This time I had a plan, and I had resources, but it was eerily reminiscent of when I left Ron.  Your past has a way of haunting you, even when your future is moving into a positive direction.  You can’t change your past, but the terror that man put me through did not deserve to be remembered.  I didn’t understand why it lurked in the back of my thoughts, dimming the thrill of my new life.    It shadows me even now, more than twenty years later. 

Milena struck up a conversation with some fellow and his cat while I filled up the gas tank.  I washed the bugs and dirt off the window when I noticed the car next to me was from Arizona!  I asked him what part, and he lived in Phoenix.  I told him we were moving to Tucson from Ohio.  He seemed impressed.  He looked over my car and he said “Oh, you are moving right now!”  Yes, I most certainly was.  By this time, Milena had finished her conversation with the fellow and she still wanted to drive for a while.  It was only about three in the afternoon and we planned on making it as far as we could before we stopped for the night.   We were making excellent time despite our leisurely stops for meals.  At this rate, we would land in Tucson late afternoon on Wednesday night or possibly early Thursday morning.  This would work out well so Milena could spend some time getting to see a little of Tucson, and help me get settled in my new home.  She was also looking forward to meeting Rachel.  Milena couldn’t believe I met someone over the internet and was now moving out to her area.  She wanted to check out Rachel and her husband for herself, to see if her mother was safe to be around them!  It also hid in the back of her mind that maybe they needed to be warned about me.  I’m not your average bear.  My children frequently “prepare” other people before meeting me. 

It wasn’t long after our stop we crossed into the Oklahoma state line!  Another milestone was passed as we cheered.  We were looking forward to crossing Oklahoma, getting into Texas, crossing New Mexico and the last state would be my new home, Arizona!  As tired as we both were, the excitement was building.  Our excitement did not last very long, however.  It was clear the drought had taken its toll here, there were miles of brown dead and dying grass on either side of the highway.  It was in stark contrast to the scenic Missouri, and the other states we traveled through.  It was dismal and dull.  The air had a feel of emptiness to it though the temperature would reach 109 before the end of the day, and the atmosphere was heavily laden with humidity.  So much humidity, I felt as if I was drowning in the short amount of time I had to spend outside of the air conditioned car.  As we traveled through the highways, we started to see unusual signs.  “Don’t drive into the smoke.”  What could it mean?  I posted an update on Facebook and received a very useful answer.  Oklahoma was so dry; the danger of wildfires was a serious threat.  Driving into a smoky area must be a lot like driving into the fog, or into a whiteout of heavy snow in Ohio.  It was clear I was going to have a lot to learn in my new state.  Ohio didn’t have any signs warning drivers not to drive into whiteouts or fog.  We probably shouldn’t drive into these conditions, but we do anyway. 

Not five minutes after receiving the answer from my Facebook friends, Milena and I spotted two areas of smoke off in the distance.  It looked at first like it was smoke from a factory.  The smoke was in two risers as if it was emanating from a factory smokestack.  It was some distance away, but as we traveled closer to it, police and emergency vehicles came at us from all directions.  Whatever was going on, it was big!  We arrived near the area and the police were just starting to close off roads.  As chance would have it, we got to see a real brush fire off the side of the highway.  It was so close; the flames could not have been more than twenty or so feet from the highway.  We arrived just in time as our part of the highway was not cordoned off yet.  What a welcome to Oklahoma!  We have been very lucky to see lots of interesting sights already along our trip.  The brushfire was very small, but the emergency personnel on the scene were treating it as if it was a three alarm fire! 

Shortly after that, traffic began to get thick and Milena and I switched seats.  After my near squishing from yesterday, I guess Milena decided she had better not talk to me while I was driving.  She started to text her boyfriend and she played on her little Nintendo game.  That little brush fire was the most exciting thing we were to see for almost the rest of the state.  Oklahoma is a very sad state from the little we saw.  There was literally hundreds of miles of nothing!  On rare occasions, we would see four or five cows trying to find some grass to graze on, but the highway was nearly vacant and we rarely saw a house.  When we saw any sign of life at all, it was a lone battered mobile home, or a cluster of a few mobile homes.  The heat was brutal, and Oklahoma was a depressed, dry state.  I was sad just driving through it.  We both wondered what people in Oklahoma did for a living.  The exit ramps did not exhibit much for signs of commerce.  Around six thirty that evening, we were starting to get hungry again.  I said we would stop at the next decent looking restaurant to eat.  We drove for another two hours before we found something and that was with the assistance of the GPS looking for points of interest!  We surely would have starved to death had it not been for modern technology directing us to restaurants not advertised as being located directly off the exit ramps. 

We settled on a Mexican Restaurant about four miles south off the highway.  It was around 8:30pm in the evening when we arrived, and we were one of two tables in the restaurant.  I wondered how they stayed in business!  It was a shabby little place, but it was very clean.  I went into the restroom and not only was it clean, but it had nice little decorative touches.  I was worried about eating there, but as I continued to look around, the restaurant was shabby, but it was quite clean everywhere I looked.  Someone loved this little restaurant and took great pride in it.  If only they could cook!  Milena ordered something off the Mexican portion of the menu while I chose a hamburger and onion rings.  We were waited on promptly, but the complimentary salsa was not very good, and in place of cilantro it was spiced up with hot sauce.  The tortilla chips were not very tasty, either.  They also served some complimentary con queso with it, but it tasted as if the cheese was milked down quite a bit.  We were starved, so we ate it until our meals arrived.  I had no complaints about my food, but poor Milena!  She ordered a quesadilla and it was awful!  She ate it anyway, but I wonder about a Mexican restaurant that serves Mexican food so tasteless it is better to order off the American side of the menu.  She went out to the car to let Angel out and get her some water while I finished my meal and paid the bill.  By this time, we were the only people left in the place.   

I paid the bill and walked back into the heat and oppressive humidity.  It was almost nine in the evening, the sun was putting on her jammies for bed and the moon was stretching its sleepy eyes.  The sun and the moon make a great pair.  They each take their turns to serve our planet and have since before the memory of man.  There is a great lesson in sharing the glory of each passing day.  Milena was again talking to somebody with a cat when I walked out.  This fellow talked with her a bit about how hard Oklahoma had been hit by this drought and the unrelenting heat which had hit the state.  People have been selling their livestock because they couldn’t afford to feed them anymore.  The grasslands were dead and dying.  Some of the larger ranchers were moving their cattle to rented grasslands, hoping to survive the drought.  Oklahoma was rich in dirt farmers, and sparse in produce. 

We drove over across the street to the small gas station there.  I thought I had better go to the bathroom since I didn’t know when the next chance would be to stop.  I was shown to a little hole in the wall restroom.  There was a door, but I was also certain there was a peeping hole in the wall as well!  I wasn’t comfortable, so I hurried with my business.  I walked back to the car and retrieved our cups to fill with ice.  I walked back in the store and got stink eye from the man behind the counter.  I asked if they minded if I filled the cups with ice, a female nearby said it was fine.  I asked if there was a cost and she said no.  The man gave me intense stink eye.  The woman noticed and said to the man “That was all right, wasn’t it?  She had her own cups.”  Stink eye man said nothing as I got the ice and left.  You would have thought I asked to fill up my tank with his gas for free.  We spent almost forty dollars just in gas and I guess the hospitality of the bathroom and ice was more than he wanted to bear.  The worst part?  It was named the Kum and Go.  I am embarrassed it is even showing up on my bank statement.  It looks as if I went to the naught store instead of the gas station!  

We got back on the road.  When we were on our way to the restaurant, we saw a turbine farm at the side of the road.  Every single wind turbine was still, no air was generating energy.  There were too many turbines to count.  It was an amazing sight.  Like I said about the Gateway Arch, to see a picture creates a distance between you and the image.  To be present in the image generates an emotional response which can’t be duplicated.  Seeing something magnificent with your own eyes bonds you to the image in a way a photograph cannot do.   On the way back to the highway, the same turbine farm was stunning against the warm darkening of sunset.  They were giant shadows with a background of stunning pinks, blues and purples in the distance.  It reminded me of what a sci-fi ghost town would look like, these giant windmills motionless against the darkening sky.  In an odd way, the turbine farm was set apart from the backdrop of colorful clouds.  They did not look like they were a part of the scenery, but instead an intruder on the horizon.  The turbine farm took my breath away when the beauty of the sunset brought a silhouette to the giant steel invaders in the landscape. 

Oklahoma is a desolate state.  There were hundreds of miles of dying grasslands.  It was dismal and depressing as we traveled silently mile after mile.  At one point, there were only three stations available to tune in; a religious station and two baseball stations.  Milena and I were tired, but we also felt the sense of hopelessness, loss and sadness so many in this state seemed to emote.  The air may have been thick with humidity, but it was equally portraying a strong emotional despair.  To be fair, we only saw the one highway we used to cross the state, but I was left with a depressed feeling the longer I drove through the miles.  Even Tulsa, Oklahoma did not appear a major city as we entered through it on the highway.  I couldn’t wait to leave the state.  I asked Milena several times how much longer until we got to Texas.  Oklahoma was pulling me down.  I was not going to spend the night in Oklahoma, even if I have to drive all night.  Milena did some checking, and it looked as if we could make it to Amarillo, Texas between 12:30am and 1:00am.  As tired as I was, I was going to make it to Amarillo.  That’s when I got so mixed up with the armadillos.  I wanted to get to armadillo Texas! 

There were miles of darkness.  The highway way not lit, so though I could see as far as the headlights illuminated, it was as if I was driving into an abyss.  Oklahoma was sucking the life out of me and I was only driving through.  Texas could not come soon enough.  I imagined myself in a black and white movie with a bad script, and a plot that went nowhere.  Neither of us were virgins, so we didn’t qualify to be brutally slashed to death by a crazed serial killer.  Except for stopping for food and gas, we had not seen another human being, so picking up a handsome hitchhiker wasn’t going to happen, either.  I had Milena in the car, so it wouldn’t happen anyway.  My imagination was thwarted by my traveling companion.  The song by Heart kept running through my head, but the laughter of a child rang through the melody.  I wasn’t having much fun.  I was having a hard time entertaining myself when at last we saw the giant “Welcome to Texas!” sign.  I don’t think we cheered louder for any other state sign we saw.  I was so relieved to be out of Oklahoma.

Suddenly, far off in the distance to the right I saw a lightning bolt in my peripheral vision.  I told Milena to watch it, because it was an electrical storm!  I have only seen a couple of them in my life and they are fascinating to watch.  She insisted it was an airport.  There were lights to a small airport, so I conceded maybe it was the safety lights for the plane.  She was busy talking on the phone with her boyfriend.  The more I watched, the closer I got, I was not sure it was an airport.  But since I was driving, I couldn’t pay much attention to the spectacular show I thought I saw.  Shiny things keep my attention a very long time and I knew I had to focus on the road.  Thankfully, the Ritalin was working tonight.

Much farther off in the distance there was a faint glow on the horizon.  It was so small it looked like the wide flame of a candle without a flicker.  An off yellow glow broke the expansive darkness between heaven and earth.  I knew we were approaching a city.  I was hoping it was armadillo.  As we approached the airport, it was now obvious we were witnessing an electrical storm.  Milena was still talking on the phone with her boyfriend when I shoved her and yelled “Look!  It is an electrical storm!”  The airport was in front of the storm, which was farther off in the distance.  At first she yelled back at me for shoving her, but when she saw the storm she was hooked.  Electrical storms are like nature’s version of fireworks!  One thing I appreciated was the clarity of this night.  Even through the darkness, you could see for miles.  It was at least fifteen minutes from the first time we saw the airport lights, electrical storm, and the distant glow of the city before we actually drove past the airport.  Even in passing the airport, the dim glow had not brightened, but it had expanded. 

Now we were really getting excited!  The dim glow was Amarillo but the GPS said we were still about forty minutes away!  We could see the lights of the city nearly an hour before we were to get there!  This must be some city.  On and on we drove, watching the city glow expand with every mile.  I was so fascinated watching the city lights expand on the night horizon, I almost missed something else neat to see!  Milena said “OMG!  Mom, did you see the cross?”  I said “nope, I’m watching the road.”  (OK, I was kind of watching the road.) She said “Look to your left!”  I looked just in time to see the largest illuminated cross I had ever seen!  It was taller than the houses around it, and I think at least four full stories tall.  Someone is really serious about their religion!  I found it weird to find a declaration like this in a state which executes more people than any other, and even recently executed a mentally retarded man.  Milena was still on the phone with her boyfriend, and as she was telling him about the cross she said “I guess everything really IS bigger in Texas!”  I cracked up. 

I was fascinated as each mile brought me closer to the city lights.  The dim glow expanded to a large distance on either side of the highway, and as we got closer, the lights became brighter.  For a few miles, all I saw was an ocean of lights!  When we were just a few miles outside of the city, the lights separated into a mass of singularity.  Finally, there were signs of life and commerce!  We emerged from the abyss and we were welcomed into the bright city lights.  We were exhausted from the day spent traveling through a dismal state.  We got off at the first exit and the first motel we found was a little trucker stop called Dean’s Motel.  It advertised free high speed WiFi.  The next motel over was a Motel 6 but after the last Motel 6 we decided to take our chances with Dean’s.  There were several cars in the parking lot, so I thought it can’t be too bad of a place.  Boy was I wrong!

I walked into the after hour check in and inquired about a room.  I had to ask the clerk to repeat herself several times because she was from the Middle East and her English was not very clear.  She asked for a ten dollar additional cash payment for Angel which she said I would have returned in the morning.  She took the cash, but did not give me a receipt.  I requested one, but instead she wrote on our ticket we had given her the deposit.  I wasn’t sure I was going to see that deposit again.  We drove around to the back of the building to our room.  It didn’t smell very clean, either, but upon first impression it did not appear too bad.  The carpeting was nicer than Motel 6, the room appeared neat and clean.  The trouble started when we pulled back the comforter and sheets.  There were long strands of a woman’s hair on the pillows!  I turned the pillowcases inside out, but as Milena pulled the sheet down further, we found pubic hair.  Clearly, no one had changed the linens from the hourly rates.  We were too tired to care as I remade the bed so we didn’t sleep with the hair of someone else around us. 

We got into bed and attempted to log onto the computer to plan the next day.  We could not log on.  I tried to call down to the office, but the phones were recycled from the Hampton Inn Hotel chain.  None of the buttons I pushed seemed to get the office.  One of them rang a phone, but no one answered.  I walked back to the office to inquire if there was a security code we needed to access the internet.  It was that time the clerk informed me the internet was down, and had been down for the last couple of days.  It would have been nice if we had that information prior to checking in, but I knew complaining would do no good.  I noticed the checkout time was ten in the morning; our bed probably had an appointment at eleven.  I went back to my room disgusted.  I told Milena there was no internet and she could overlook the strands of hair, she overlooked the pubic hair, but she was not going to overlook the lack of internet.  She wanted to go to the office to complain.  I knew it would do no good, these little motels know we are traveling through and won’t offer repeat business anyway.  Milena was determined she was going to get our money back.  I walked back to the office with her, since I didn’t want her walking outside alone.  No one was in the immediate area, but Milena called out and the woman appeared.  Milena made her argument for about ten minutes and the woman pointed to the sign in the lobby which stated there was a no refund policy.  I also noted there was a no pets policy, but I didn’t think now was a good time to voice the discrepancy in how she chose to enforce the advertised policies of the business.  Milena asked the woman “Don’t you want your customers to be happy and satisfied?  I am your customer and you are not doing anything to offer solutions to the problems, or making any attempt at all to please me, the customer!”  The woman told Milena “You no happy, you no come back.”  Milena began to argue with the woman again, and the woman said “I no argue, you leave office.  No refund on room, only pet deposit.  You no happy, you no come back.” 

Milena was outraged.  She wanted to file a complaint, call the better business bureau, everything and anything.  I told her she could do all those things, but it wouldn’t make a difference.  She didn’t understand how this little motel could get away with reusing the linens and not attempting to make the customer happy.  I asked her if she just didn’t want to eat the forty bucks and go check in at the Motel 6.  She said no, but she was clearly confused at a business that did not care for customer service.  She also noted the early check out time and asked me why they wanted us to leave so early, especially since we would get less than eight hours sleep.  I told her they probably rented the room by the hour and we had to be out.  She looked shocked, but she didn’t say anything.  It took a while for her to settle down and go to sleep.  We didn’t shower here, either.  Three nights, three motel rooms that was less than appealing.  At this rate, Rachel might smell us coming before we actually arrived!  Day 2 was at an end. 

Milena and I were not arguing, but we weren’t talking about anything much either.  I had hoped this would be a great opportunity to bond together again.  When she was little, we were very close.  The anger from Eddie leaving had overshadowed the memories of how close we were, and all the fun we had.  About a month before I decided to move to Arizona, I had written Milena a very long letter, hoping to help her let go of some of that anger and to answer any questions she had.  I was hoping it would help her to understand everything that happened, and to reassure her there was nothing she could have done so Eddie would have remained in her life as her father.  Eddie raised her for over ten years and then abandoned her.  I can’t imagine how much that hurt her, but after he quit being her father, she changed dramatically.  I had tried many times in a lot of different ways to help her move past it, but she refused to go to counseling, and I couldn’t break through the wall she built between us.  I knew on some level she blamed me for him abandoning her.  The letter was my last ditch effort to help her process what had happened to her. 

After she read my letter, she made three comments.  She said “Well, your letter did benefit me.”  The second was “I hear all the time how parents try to make the lives of their children better than the life they had.  In that respect, you succeeded.  Before Eddie left, I had a happy childhood.”  And the third statement was “Mom, I know you need to work, but you should concentrate more on your writing.  You need to find out how to get published, and you need to write every single day.”  I said “Thank you” but I really didn’t know what to think about what she said.  The letter was fourteen single spaced typewritten pages long.  Some parts of it were very intense, and some parts of it I poured my heart out to her, hoping she could finally have some peace in her life.  She also told me she was writing a letter in response, but not to expect it any time soon.  I have no idea what she thought of my letter, how it impacted her, nothing.  I didn’t want to push her into talking about anything she wasn’t comfortable talking about either.  I was hoping the face time of this trip would afford us the opportunity to talk, but I didn’t want to pressure her, so unless she brought up a topic, I wasn’t going there.  We will have several more days together as our journey across the country unfolds.