| Roadstop Angel- Pecan Grove Review, 2001 �HailMaryfullofgracetheLordiswiththee...� She gripped the steering wheel tighter, the radio long since cold and silent. Its jabber and jangle was soothing at first, but it distracted her. She needed to focus on street signs and somehow hope to grow a sense of direction. �Blessedartthouamongstwomen...� The mumbled prayers started as a rosary, meticulously counted on her fingers, and ended in string after string of frantic Hail Marys once she lost count and concentrated on the road. She didn�t let her eyes stray to the clock. The workshop ended an hour ago, and she didn�t want to think about her parents waiting in the living room right now. It started out as an adventure--finding her own way once she realized she didn�t recognize the street signs. It was only when she tried to U-turn and get back and wound up hitting a highway that it turned into stubbornness and a determination to do this herself, rather than running to Daddy like she hated doing. He always made her feel so small. She wanted to prove that she could fix her own mess. The car in front of her switched out of its lane. Did it think she wanted to pass? A huge roll of dirty carpet lay directly in front of her car, and she shrieked and jerked the wheel sideways. Her tires protested, someone honked, and fresh cool droplets fell onto the backs of her hands where she hunched over them, mingling with the nervous perspiration of her palms and making her hands slip. A sound broke from her lips, half sob, half fear, and she pinched them together. When she was capable of frightening herself, it was time to shut up. She pulled off the freeway and into the nearest gas station, determined to get directions. This had gone on long enough. There was one girl behind the counter, listening to earphones and singing with eyes closed. A man slumped by the door had a paper bag in his hand, the top crumpled around the neck of a bottle. He took another swig, then stumbled to his feet when he saw her coming. She swallowed the sour gasoline air. �Lost your way, sugar?� he asked, stretching out the hand with the bottle in it. His welcoming smile wobbled, just like his stance. Terror turned her feet around and saw her safely back to her car. She slammed the door behind her. The engine growled to life, and she retreated. She�d never considered that she might be in danger here. Sure, lost, but not at risk. It was difficult to imagine that merely stopping for help might get her jumped by some wacko with a penchant for tearstained teenagers. It was obvious how out of place she was, and who would defend her? Then again, it might be dangerous on the roads. A drunk could come crashing over the double yellow lines and make her a statistic. Was this it, then? Was this how it was going to go? Disappearing into the night like a runaway, with no one the wiser that she was lying in a ditch? Her parents would forbid her little brother to drive until he was fifty. Her friends would just cry. A light on her dashboard flickered on. A little yellow E glared at her, smugly dancing next to the gas gauge. �Oh, shit!� she said aloud, her voice breaking the eerie rushing silence. That was what she needed to make her decision. She moved into the right lane, seeing a brightly lit Burger King down the road. It was right next to an Exxon, and looked vaguely familiar. Had she passed it before in her blurry-eyed panic? First things first; she fed the last of the cash in her wallet into the nearest pump, and put gas in her tank. Then she locked the doors, and walked into the bustling, fragrant arms of Burger King. The woman behind the counter looked at her strangely as she approached. Her brown hair was bouffant, giving away that this was far from home. Her tag read �JoAnne.� �Hi,� the girl said uneasily, planting her fingertips on the counter standing between them. �I was wondering if you could tell me where I am.� JoAnne�s heavily mascaraed eyes widened. �Richmond?� she said, only it was more like a question. �Richmond?!� Just how long did I drive? �Richmond, Texas?� She sighed in relief. �Okay. Do you know how to get to Houston?� �Um...� JoAnne looked down, then glanced over her shoulder. �I�m not sure, but there�s a guy in the back who lives in Houston, so lemme go ask him...� Continue |