sign offered me. The situation wasn’t great but things weren’t all bad. Firstly, I was out of Oklahoma, across an entire border from my past and my disappointments. Second, I had shade and was thankful I’d worn the cool, thin, very-short cotton dress. I had a hat and sunglasses. The temperature even in the shade must have been a hundred degrees or more. But I had water and a bottle of liquid courage to my name. I’d had to eat the chocolate before it melted so I was out of food, but that didn’t worry me. This was a main thoroughfare; other people would drive by sooner rather than later, I guessed, and I’d hitch a ride to the next town. From there, I’d figure things out. I put my few belongings into a small red suitcase I found in the trunk. The car could lie there and rust for the next hundred years for all I cared. I would never come back for it. And so I sat in the shade and waited for a ride, sipping on water and occasionally whiskey, watching the path of the sun across the blue-white sky. I might have sat there twenty minutes, or less, when I saw the first tiny glimmer of sunlight on chrome along the horizon. Placing my small bag behind me, I stuck out my thumb and hoped for the best. I’d never hitch-hiked before, since I’d never had anywhere to go until now, but it wasn’t difficult. And a second car followed a mile or so behind the first, I could now see. A red one. If the first car didn’t stop, hopefully the second one would.
