The Four Winds

“It’s not him,” Elsa said.

“It could be.”

Elsa slowed down. “It’s not him.”

“Who cares?” Ant said. “He left.”

“Shush,” Elsa said. It was too late in the day for this. They were all exhausted after hours of driving. The gas gauge showed that they were nearly out of fuel.

Elsa saw a gas station and pulled into it, sidled up to the pump.

Nineteen cents per gallon. One dollar and ninety cents to fill the tank.

Elsa did the math in her head, recalculated the amount of money they would have when they drove away.

An attendant came out to pump their gas.

Across the street was a small auto court, with jalopies and trucks parked out front. There were people seated on chairs in front of their rooms, with their loaded-down vehicles parked in attached carports. A pink neon sign—turned off—read: VACANCY and $3.00/NIGHT.

Three dollars.

“Stay here,” Elsa said to the kids.

She walked across the gravel parking lot to pay for the gas. There were a few people milling about in the falling night: a raggedy man standing over by the water pump, with a scrawny dog sitting on its haunches nearby. A kid kicking a ball.

A bell rang overhead as she opened the door. Her stomach growled loudly, reminding her that she’d given her lunch to the kids. She walked up to the cash register, which was operated by a woman with orange hair.

Elsa pulled her wallet out of her handbag and counted out one dollar and ninety cents and put it on the counter. “Ten gallons of gas.”

“First day on the road?” the lady asked, taking the money as she rang up the sale.

“Yes. Just left home. How can you tell?”

“You don’t got a man with you?”

“How—”

“Men don’t let their women pay for gas.” The woman leaned closer. “Keep your money somewhere besides your handbag, doll. There’s a bad element out here. ’Specially in the last few days. Keep an eye out.”

Elsa nodded and put her money back in her wallet. As she did so, she stared down at her left hand, at the thin wedding band she still wore.

“It ain’t worth nuthin’,” the clerk said, looking sad. “You’d best keep wearing it, too. A single woman can be prey out on the road. And don’t stay at the auto court across the street. It’s full of the shiftless kind. About four miles farther on, just past the water tower, there’s a dirt road going south. Take it. If you go about a mile in, you’ll find a nice copse of trees. If you don’t feel like camping, keep going another six miles west on the main road. There’s a clean motel called Land of Enchantment. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck.”

Elsa hurried back to the truck. She had left the kids alone, with all their belongings and a full tank of gas and the keys in the ignition with shiftless men nearby.

Lesson one.

Elsa climbed into the truck. The children looked as hot and tired as she felt. “So, explorers. First order of business. We need a plan. There’s a nice motel down the road that has beds and maybe hot water. It’s at least three dollars a night. If we decide to stay in places like that, we’ll use up about fifteen dollars. Or we can save that money and camp out.”

“Camping!” Ant said. “Then it’s a real adventure.”

Elsa met Loreda’s gaze over Ant’s head.

“Camping,” Loreda said. “Big fun.”