The paved road trickles into a bumpy gravel stretch that’s barely big enough for one car, and probably not big enough for my SUV and U-Haul. I slow to a crawl and drive until we come to a T in the road. The faded green sign shows a left and right arrow, with the right one going back to the interstate and the left one going…
“Salt Gap?” Miranda swipes her finger across her cell phone then squints back at the rugged street sign. “Is that
a town?”
“Hey you’re on Google maps!” I yell, pointing at her phone. “That’s cheating!”
She drops her phone in her lap and holds up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, you’re right. Totally cheating.”
“Well, since you’ve already cheated…where are we?” I ask, crossing my arms as my car idles at the intersection.
“We’re in middle-of-nowhere-assed-west-Texas.”
I motion for her to continue. She shrugs. “It doesn’t show up on the map. But we should definitely turn right to see what the hell a Salt Gap is.”
We turn right and drive on an even more rickety gravel road that’s even narrower than the one before it. We drive for what feels like miles. I can’t stop imagining that a werewolf will jump out of the shadows or Bigfoot will tackle our car and eat our brains. Well, maybe that’s zombies. Okay, now I can’t stop thinking that zombies will suddenly be in the middle of the road, waiting to eat our brains.
We are exactly nowhere. No street lights, no houses, no stores. Not even a happy little yellow striped line in the center of the road, reminding me that I’m on public territory. We could be entering a Texan Hannibal Lectors’ secret hideaway and not even know it.
“There,” Miranda says suddenly, her voice making me jump. “A sign.” She squints as she reads it. “Salt Gap, Texas.”
I echo her, reading the tiny little line at the bottom, “Population 1209.”
We look at each other do something unexpected. We laugh.
“We have to stop here,” Miranda says. “We’re from a place with a population of four million. This should be good.” She makes a puppy face over her smile, and because she seems happy for the first time tonight, I agree. What the hell? It’s just a tiny dot on the map of Texas with twelve hundred and nine people who are probably all related. What’s the worst that could happen?
“What’s the best that could happen?” Miranda says.
“What?” Did the girl just read my mind? “You mean worst, not best.”
“No I mean best. So many people focus on the worst thing that could happen to them, but why not focus on the best?” She leans back in her seat and looks at the roof of my car. “We could drive into town and be hailed as gods because we’re in a fancy new SUV and these people have probably never even seen cars. Then they’d build us a mansion and shower us with gifts and we’d live happily ever after as the reigning queens of Salt Gap, Texas.” She crosses her arms all matter-of-factly. “That’s the best that could happen.”
“You’re weird.”
She smiles. “Let’s stop here. I have a good feeling about it. Plus I have to pee.”
The town of Salt Gap is exactly that—a gap in between miles and miles of empty land. We follow the main street, aptly named Main Street, from one end of town and back. It takes about ten minutes. There’s a small grocery store called Big Chief, two gas stations and several family-owned stores in the main part of the town. Miranda points out how almost every store name starts with Salt Gap.
Her window rolls down at the touch of a finger and she sticks her head out like a puppy on its first car ride. “Salt Gap Cleaners, Salt Gap Cycles, Salt Gap Archery.” These people love their hometown, eh?” She wipes the hair out of her face. “Oh! Salt Gap Diner. Open twenty-four hours. Park this bitch, I want some pancakes.”
My stomach growls in agreement. We stop at the diner and both of us topple out of my car. Sitting for so long has turned my legs to mush. Judging by the way Miranda is slouched over the hood tells me her legs are mush too. I’m about to ask if she needs any help, being pregnant and all, when she says, “I’ll race you!” She pushes off my car, making it wobble, and hobble-skips toward the door. I burst after her.
We reach the heavy wooden doors of the diner and Miranda pushes her body through them, laughing with a mighty ha ha ha because she beat me.
“Not fair, you cheated!” I cry, trying to catch my breath.
“Whatev,” she says, pulling a hair tie off her wrist, attempting to wrangle in her unkempt hair. At this exact moment we both realize the same thing: everyone is staring at us.
Salt Gap Diner is about the size of my condo. It has ten two-person tables and a bar that stretches from end to end at the back of the room. If I had to choose a theme for it, I would pick antique/rustic/cowboy. Country music plays from the jukebox in the front of the diner where we stand. Half the tables are seated with customers, and all of the customers watch us like we’re some kind of city folk freak show.
“Shit,” Miranda whispers under her breath.
A thin girl about my age appears at our side holding two laminated menus. She has beautiful blonde hair that is so perfectly golden it has to be natural, and she’s wearing blue jeans with holes in the knees and a red Salt Gap T-shirt. “Good evening, ladies. Is it just the two of you?”
I nod. Her voice is twangy but not annoyingly so. She smiles, turns on her heel and walks us to a table in the far corner of the room. This must be where they put the outsiders.
“Hi,” Miranda says cheerfully to an older woman who gives us a curious look as we walk by. “Can I help you with something?” The woman shakes her head and goes back to eating her food. I try not to laugh. Miranda can be a bit bold.