It was somewhere around the Virginia mountains that her enthusiasm had started to dwindle and she began to consider the possible ramifications of her actions. She was following directions given to her by a stranger, driving to an unknown location, deep in the South, alone. This was the stuff horror movies were made of.
Reality really began to sink in when she decided to find a place to sleep for the night. She didn’t feel like making the full seventeen hour drive in one stint. She figured it would be best to have daylight on her side when she arrived at her mysterious destination. Plus she worried that her old Toyota Corolla might need a break. As she’d crossed into Maryland her odometer had rolled over to 200,000 miles. It was quite the accomplishment for Old Betty, and Maggie figured it was time to start treating her more delicately. She’d recently begun making some unsettling noises.
Deciding to find a place to sleep and actually doing it however, were two entirely different things. She hadn’t really thought this through, which was so unlike her. Maggie had always been a planner. She’d had her entire life planned out since the age of twelve, but it looked like the joke was on her.
This trip had not been planned, not at all. It had been spontaneous and impetuous, and as Maggie drove through the small Virginia mining town she began to realize it might have also been one of the stupidest things she’d ever done. Most of the buildings she passed were boarded up. The entire town looked abandoned. She considered driving through and searching for a more promising pit stop but just at that moment her gas light came on, reminding her of one more detail she hadn’t planned out for this road trip. She held her breath and gripped the wheel tighter, willing the gas in her tank to last until she found signs of civilization.
To her utter relief, as she crested the top of a hill she saw lights in the distance. The older part of town slowly gave way to a slightly updated version. The buildings were still several decades out of date, but at least they were lit. Maggie pulled into a small gas station and breathed a sigh of relief that she’d made it.
She stepped out of Old Betty and stretched her sore muscles. The night air was cool but thick with the heavy scent of earth and trees. Moths and beetles buzzed around the flickering overhead lights. Maggie glanced through the large window of the gas station and saw the attendant eyeing her warily. She nodded nervously then turned to the old pump. Of course there was no credit card service at the pump, so after filling her tank she was required to enter the small, dingy gas station.
Once inside she scanned the store for some supplies. The options were limited. She bought a bottled water and a candy bar. It would have to do for dinner since she didn’t imagine she would find much else. She really needed to use the restroom but saw no obvious signs inside the store and there was no way she’d be walking around back. She could hold it.
“Are there any hotels nearby?” Maggie asked hopefully as she paid for her gas and snacks.
“There’s a Motel 6 about a mile that’a way.” The attendant gestured with a nod over his shoulder.
Maggie smiled half-heartedly, gathered her small rations, and hurried back to her car. Once inside she looked over at the small potted fern that sat buckled on the passenger seat.
“What have we gotten ourselves into, Fred?” she asked the plant.
She had rescued the fern from a dumpster outside her dorm hall about six months earlier. It was nearly dead and had been left to be taken out with the trash. Something about the sad-looking, spindly brown fern had tugged at her heart strings and she’d scooped it up and carried it back to her room. She researched how to care for ferns, since she’d never had a plant before. Several websites she’d read had mentioned that plants grew better if you talked to them. None had suggested naming the plant per se, but Fred didn’t seem to mind.
Nursing the poor little fern back to health had given Maggie something to focus on other than her intensive studying. It became therapeutic for her to talk with Fred at the end of her day, to vent her frustrations as she watered him and dusted his leaves. When she’d packed up for this trip, Fred had been the only necessity that absolutely couldn’t be left behind.
The Motel 6 finally appeared a few blocks later. It was dimly lit and just about as inviting as the gas station had been, but Maggie was exhausted and it was apparently her only option.
The room smelled of stale cigarettes and the walls were stained yellow. But the water in the shower was hot and soothed her aching muscles. She sat at the small table by the window and ate her candy bar dinner, pouring the remainder of her bottled water into Fred’s pot before climbing onto the bed. She slept on top of the covers.