The Great Adventure, Day 3

We awoke on day three and it took less than fifteen minutes to wipe ourselves of this nasty motel.  I went to checkout, and as I suspected, the Middle Eastern clerk was not working.  A male had taken her place.  I returned my key and he said “Good day.”  I reminded him my pet deposit was noted on my registration card and he said “I must inspect the room.”  I almost burst out laughing.  We slept in a bed that had not had a linen change in who knows how long, littered with other people’s hair and even a pubic hair and he wants to make sure my five pound dog didn’t do any damage.  I hope she pissed all over, but I got my deposit back.  Neither Milena nor I had an appetite, so we hit the road. 

It seemed as if we had only been on the road a short time when we saw the “Welcome to New Mexico” sign.  Our spirits immediately lifted!  We only needed to get through New Mexico to arrive at my new home state.  New Mexico had areas of vast space just as Oklahoma had, but the sky was a bright blue, the heat was intense, but dry and the air had a crystal quality to it.   The air sparkled.  Perception is everything, and we perceived Oklahoma to be a dismal, dying state.  New Mexico felt alive, bright with hope.  Arizona was also getting closer.  Suddenly, a white van cut Milena off as it changed lanes.  He came so close to us I could see the back of his children’s heads.  Milena was pissed!  She laid on the horn and for the next twenty minutes or so the white van and Milena played a game of tag so to speak.  The van was in such a hurry to get out from behind the car it was following and it broke into the lead of the cluster of cars we were in.  But Milena was going the speed limit and the white van was not.  We approached the white van again and Milena hit the horn.  The driver refused to look at us.  We were on the road three days and three almost car accidents.  This was making me very nervous.  I knew the stronger the spiritual reasons were for me to make this trip, the stronger the oppositional forces would attempt to intervene.  I needed stronger Angels surrounding me.  I didn’t have any time to think about it any further when the next intervention presented itself.

It was only a short time later when the battery light came on.  Milena was concerned, but I thought maybe it was a loose cable.  We would find a service station and check it when we could.  I told her the battery shouldn’t be a problem because the car was already running.  The car needed the battery to start the car, but it ran off of the alternator once it was started.  That’s the way cars used to be, anyway.  We continued on our journey and the car suddenly lost all power, the RPMs went to zero but came right back up.  The next exit advertised a small airport, so I told her to get off there even though there wasn’t a service station in sight.  The airport may be small, but there would be people there.  We made it off the exit ramp when the car lost power again, but this time it would not accelerate.  Milena pulled the car over off the side of the road.  I was worried but I didn’t let it show it Milena.  I was almost grateful we were pulled off the road, but I was beginning to wonder if we were going to make it to Arizona.   New Mexico might be my new home if my car couldn’t make it. 

Milena popped the hood; I was going to check the battery and fluids.  I didn’t have the money for a major car repair.  I check all the hoses, some of which were taped with duct tape.  I know I didn’t tape the hoses, so it had to be someone who had worked on my car at some point.  I wasn’t happy, but if it needs fixed, either super glue or duct tape can solve most of the problems.  The duct tape was disconcerting, but didn’t seem to be the problem.  I check the oil, and it was a little low despite the fact I had the oil changed a few days before the trip. That wouldn’t cause the car to lose power.  I was beginning to suspect an electrical problem, since the battery cables were intact.  Still, I wanted to believe it was a simple fluid problem.  I carefully released the radiator cap, and the dank discolored water overflowed on the highway.  I replaced the water with the bottled water we had, but now there was nothing more I could do.  Right at this moment, a car approached.  I was nervous.  This area had some traffic along the highway, but we were not on the highway, and tiny airport was about a half a mile away.  It did not appear to be a hub of activity.  The heat was bearing down upon us, Milena and I would be fine for a while, but my little dog was panting heavily in the one hundred plus degree heat.  There was not even a slight breeze to cool us, nor a tree in sight to shade us.  This could go very badly very quickly.  And now a stranger’s car was approaching.  Either an Angel was sending aid, or we would be surrounded by evil.  I listened to my spirit and it was calm.  Whatever was going to happen next, we were going to be fine.

An older Chevy stopped, and a slight young man emerged.  He was about the age of Milena or Christina, and I might have outweighed him.  He didn’t look like a threat, but then threats sometimes come in pretty packages.  He didn’t bother to pull off the road; he stopped slightly in front of us right in the lane!  He asked what happened, and pretended to look at the car, much as I had done.  Then he shook his head and offered to call a tow company.  We weren’t going to get this fixed at the side of the road.  I called the insurance company while Mark called the tow company and Milena called Dana, one of the vets she works with.  I got approval from the insurance company to get the car towed to Pinky’s, a repair shop less than ten minutes away.  Mark told Pinky’s and the insurance company where we were, we didn’t have any idea.  Turns out we were near Suicide Bridge in Tucumara, New Mexico.  After I had hung up the phone, I joked with Mark asking him if he was going to murder us.  (I was pretty sure I could take him.)  He laughed and said no, he was a Christian.  He asked about Ohio, and I told him there were parts of Ohio where you really would be frightened if your car broke down.  In that case, you got on your cell phone and hunkered down in the car out of sight.  You hoped help arrived before someone stole your hubcaps!  I was still kind of joking with him, but he said “Well, I have a nigger bar in the car for just that kind of a situation.” 

My jaw must have dropped; at least it felt like it did.  I wanted to stand up in the face of injustice and confront prejudice in the face, but we were on a semi-isolated road without another person in sight.  He didn’t notice my jaw resting on the sweltering tar road.  I chose to change the subject and asked him what kind of work he did.  Turns out he washed dishes at a restaurant with Mexicans, and he hates Mexicans because they were so lazy.  He works twice as hard as any of them and they never get their work done.  I didn’t know what to say.  I replied I didn’t know anything about Mexicans being lazy and he said “Well, you are about to find out, there are a lot of Mexicans around.”  At that very moment, I large white pickup truck towing a bunch of horses pulled up along the roadside behind us.  Behind the wheel was a Mexican man in a cowboy hat.  I was really hoping this was not about to get any more interesting.  Where was the damn tow truck?  I didn’t know what a nigger bar was for sure, but I knew I didn’t want to see it used.  The two Mexican men got out of their cab asking if we were OK.  We thanked them and said we were, Mark had called a tow company and we were waiting on the tow.  Milena asked one of the men about the horses in the back while I exchanged pleasantries with Mark and this new stranger who stopped to help us.  The stranger said he wanted to stay with us until the tow truck arrived; just to be sure we were safe.  Mark and the Mexican each eyed each other with suspicion.  There was an uncomfortable millisecond of silence when another car drove by to ask if everything was all right!  I again thanked the drivers, explaining a tow was on the way.  Mark looked up to the highway and saw a pink tow truck pass us in the opposite direction on the highway.  He thought it was Gus, his friend, who doesn’t follow directions well.  He called Pinky’s back and confirmed it was Gus, and asked them to call him to turn back around.  We had a tow truck driver driving a bright Pink tow truck who couldn’t find the airport exit by Suicide Bridge heading west off of Highway 10 in his own town and worked at a garage named Pinky’s. 

While Mark was on the phone I remarked to the Mexican man that New Mexico must be a very friendly state because we received such nice offers of assistance.  He said we try to take care of each other out here.  I thanked him again for stopping and as I did, a third car pulled around Mark’s car and parked off the road in front of us, inquiring if we needed any help!  We assured we were waiting on the tow, and thanked this new Good Samaritan, who then went on his way.  I couldn’t believe how many people stopped for us on this relatively desolate road to help!  I think my Angels were reassuring me of their presence.  We were surrounded by them!  (OK, so one man the Angels sent was a racist, but he was a Christian racist who assisted us in getting help.)  Mark told us Pinky’s was a tow company run by a woman, but she didn’t name it Pinky’s because of the color, she wanted something that would stand out from other towing companies.  A bright pink tow truck definitely stood out on the highway.  You couldn’t miss it if you tried!  I did feel a little better knowing my car would be looked at by a garage owned by a woman.  Women can be just as deceitful as men, but I was hoping this was a good sign.  We would be easy prey for any mechanic, but we were prey without resources, a ten year old car and we were close to two thousand miles from home, or a few hundred depending on who you asked. 

We soon saw the tow truck barreling off the ramp.  The Mexican men tipped their hats to us and wished us luck.  We thanked them once again.  Gus pulled up and asked what had happened.  We thanked Mark and he made his way to wherever he was going.  I gathered up my belongings, dog and Milena and climbed into the air conditioned cab while Gus worked.  Milena was very quiet.  I know she was worried about what we would do for money, but I told her it would be all right, it would work out.  She didn’t believe me, but I meant it.  We were surrounded by Angels, what is meant to be, will.  Gus climbed back into the cab, and I asked him if he knew what it could be.  He said he would know more once he got it to the garage.  I asked him if he liked his job, and he said he did.  He said his boss owned Pinky’s tow, and had made the garage a separate business.  She did it in order to come up on the insurance tows twice as much.  Every tow company had to take turns getting the calls.  I thought it was pretty shrewd of her to operate that way.  He seemed to like his boss and said Pinky’s was more like a family.  I was more confident this problem would work itself out somehow.  We arrived at the garage, and absolutely everything was pink!  The building, the signs and all the company vehicles were pink.  You could see this business a mile away, and I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon.

We got out of the cab and entered the waiting area of the business.  I was very much worried; I did have some money set aside for expenses, but not much.  I was also strangely calm.  I discount ancient mythology and the people who worshiped and placed their faith in Gods and spirits that we now know were false, or didn’t exist at all.  I don’t know how I can be any different, though.  I place my future, my safety, my soul in the hands of something I saw when I was just six years old, yet the alternative is not empowerment as the staunch atheists would have all believe.  The alternative is nothing.  Nothing cannot be an option, can it?  This is where faith can bring you to the edge of madness.  Faith can bring you to your own demise.  We have seen it play out throughout history.  The American Indians, the Mayans, the Romans and Greeks all of who placed the fate of their lands in the hands of Gods who did not exist.  I cannot believe in religion as it has been marketed.  Thousands of years ago, we were given the gift of spirit, of soul and destiny and it has been perverted by the handful of men into a greedy and profitable business.  It was nurtured and fed to the world by those men and it resulted in the slavery and annihilation of many tribes and cultures, some of which remain only in the history books, and their history is told through the eyes of the men who wiped them off the face of this earth.  This gift we were given has been wildly perverted, so much so it is often hard to find my way. 

I believe and place my faith because out of the life I have lived, all the psychology books, all the sociological statistics indicate I should be a much different person than I am. Yes, there are always those who defy the odds, but I am not one of those.  I have my scars and I have my faults.  I am damaged in ways that cannot be repaired.  I have to believe I survived all I have because I believed in something I cannot explain.  I have to believe I am walking a path that leads to somewhere, otherwise, what is the purpose of life?  Throughout all of humanity, throughout all cultures and sociological systems, one thing has remained a common thread; life has meaning.  There is sanctity in life, honor in a life served, and dignity in death.  Every culture and religion has expressed it differently, and they each have had various core beliefs, but that thread remains through all of them.  I believe in reason and logic, so I look for “proof” of what I believe, “proof” I am walking in grace everywhere I go.  I also know we can read anything into nothing if we want to prove our case badly enough.  It is really difficult to be me inside of my own head.

I am worried.  I know Milena has already contacted Dana about Angel.  Dana is also Eileen’s (my eldest daughter) best friend, so word will spread quickly to her that we are broken down in New Mexico.  I don’t want Eileen to be worried; she is in the middle of a major life change herself.  She is arranging to move back to the United States to begin her clinical rotation, and she is heading into final exams.  Milena is also worried, though she is not expressing it.  I know she is looking at me, wondering how I can remain so calm, but it is how I feel.  I don’t know how, but I know it will work out. 

The waiting area of the garage is lined with certificates of honor for professional performance by almost every major car insurance company.  There is not a bare area on the wall for another award.  She has honors from area chambers of commerce, and plaques from various nonprofit organizations for her philanthropy.  There are framed articles of her and her achievements proudly displayed.  I read them all.  This woman is a Native American Indian by heritage, small in stature like me, but who doesn’t fit a mold and doesn’t accept failure as an option.  She was a model, though only 5’4”.  Shorter women can be models in print work, but not usually runway.  She started the business on a dare.  I saw certificates dating back to 1999, but the article said it took her four years to get the licensing because during that time, no woman owned a towing company or a repair shop.  The industry was always run by males and they made it very difficult for her to get through all the hoops.  I was in the middle of reading through the articles about her when I got a call from Eileen.  By that time, we knew it was the starter that needed replaced.  I don’t know how the car started if the starter was bad, it used to be you would have signs the starter was going bad because the car had difficulty starting.  I guess the starter and the alternator must be the same thing now.  Knowledge is fluid, what I once knew is no longer how it is. 

I took the performance awards on the wall and the fact that we landed at a garage owned by a woman to be a good sign, a sign things would work out as they should.  I reassured Eileen, and spoke with the mechanic.  The part would not be available until tomorrow; the only place that had a part was an hour’s drive away.  They said they could have the car ready by two the next afternoon.  I saw the total of the bill as $311.00.  I asked if that included labor and the mechanic said that’s the labor and pointed to a number above the $311.00.  The number was $170.00.  I could handle a $311.00 bill.  I had set aside some money to buy a decent mattress and box spring as my only furniture purchase because of all the things I needed to start a new house, a place to sleep so my back would not hurt was the most important to me.  I was going to use my mattress money.  As luck would have it, there was a Motel 6 just a few blocks away; I could see it in the distance.  Gus drove us to the Motel. 

We went to check into the Motel, which was having some staffing issues.  There were two people ahead of us, the first being an unhappy woman.  It was early afternoon and the rooms were not ready.  The woman was giving the clerk a hard time.  She was a smoker and the clerk was giving her every available option, including a nonsmoking room.  The woman said she didn’t care; she would take any room available.  The clerk assigned her a room and told her it would be forty-five minutes to an hour before the room was ready.  The woman left in a huff stating she would return at that time.  The next customer was an older gentleman who and reservations.  His room was not ready either and the clerk told him the same thing.  She explained they were short staffed, the fellow said he didn’t care; he would go eat and return.  Then it was our turn.  I explained our needs and told her we understood there would be a wait.  We would just sit in the lobby until a room was ready, because we had nowhere else to go.  I don’t know why, but she took a liking to us.  She talked about having to fire one of the maids and another one had just quit.  We said we understood, and we didn’t mind waiting.  She took my driver’s license and said “Oh, you are not quite old enough for our senior discount.”  I shook my head.  She said “Well, not to worry, we will take good care of you here.”  She got our room immediately and gave me the senior discount.  I was very grateful.  This time I knew to pay the extra $3.12 for the internet.  She provided us with menus of places that delivered food since we had not eaten yet either.  I have no idea how she got us a room that was ready when she told the other two they had to wait.  This must be where the Angels intervened.  This woman was influenced by the forces of good.  By this time, I had only been out in the sun for less than an hour, but I was burnt.  My back and shoulders were already stinging.

Milena and I got to our hotel room and settled in.  There was little conversation between us, our mood was sober.  Though I was sure it would work out, I wasn’t sure how and Milena doesn’t hold true my beliefs. When I talk about Angels, she is a skeptic.  When I tell her I can see and feel earth bound spirits, she discounts me.  It’s OK, most people do, but her reaction does not change my reality or what I know is truth.  It only turns conversations into barriers.  The first order of business was to find something to eat.  We did, but we ordered more food than we needed and I didn’t have much of an appetite though I wanted to eat.  Having faith doesn’t mean you won’t still be worried.  I have faith things will work out, and they always do, but they don’t always work out in ways that I would have chosen.  This Motel 6 was quite a different experience from the one in Springfield.  The room was clean, it smelled clean and there was no dust to be found.  The bath and shower looked like something we felt comfortable showering in.  It was a nice room. 

We spent the rest of the evening watching TV, playing on the internet, or watching television.  Neither of us talked very much, either because we were simply worn out or our spirits had been dampened by this latest challenge in our journey.  Milena talked with her boyfriend, and we went to bed.  Of course as usual, sleep did not come easily for me.  I was so tired and had so much on my mind.  The more the forces of coincidence and evil tried to intervene on the trip, the more convinced I was this was where I needed to be as each challenge was also met with the power of Angels.  I could have broken down anywhere, and the situation could have been very bad had I broken down on Oklahoma.  It might have been especially bad had I broken down at night, without an open business to help.  I was disappointed we would not be arriving in Tucson as planned, but day three ended with us getting some much needed rest.