was full of promise.
Everything else was spoiled by defeat, by
sadness, by mistakes.
So, good-bye, Brenda. Good-bye, memories of
Mr. Hyde. Good-bye, the horror of Mama's death.
Good-bye, the discomfort of an unpleasant new home.
Good-bye to it all.
And hello to tomorrow.
In fact. as I drove on. I could see the light of a
new day creeping up the horizon, driving the shadows
and darkness back into hiding.
Was I just fooling myself one more time.?
17 April's Adventure
. Before I left the city proper, I stopped at a gas station and got a map. I sat in the car and studied it, drawing a line from one highway to another until I would reach I-10W and head to Uncle Palaver's next stop on his schedule of performances. El Paso, Texas. It wasn't a place I could drive to
overnight. I thought, The night was more than half over, anyway, but it was easier to drive in the darkness somehow, because it heightened my sense of escaping.
I didn't stop at first light, either. I didn't think about being tired, but when it was nearly midday. I realized I was very thirsty and even a little hungry. I pulled off at the next exit and found my way to a fastfood restaurant where they served breakfast in the form of eggs in a muffin. I had some juice and coffee and took a coffee to go. I wanted to drive and drive and drive, because as long as I was moving, I wasn't thinking about what I had done.
By now. I realized both Brenda and Celia would have discovered I had gone. They would have no idea how far I had driven or what my intentions were. I could just hear Brenda saying, "She'll be back. She's just having a tantrum. I don't want to waste any time worrying about her."
Or maybe they would have another row and would break up over what had occurred. In Brenda's mind. I would surely be the cause of it somehow. She was always fonder of Celia than she was of me. I'd have to have been the cause of the unhappiness. If I had remained in that house after Celia left her or she had left Celia, it would have been horrible. I was very wise to leave. I concluded.
When I was on highway I-20W. I realized I was weaving too much from lane to lane. Despite my determination, fatigue was settling in so deeply it had reached my bones. My eyelids were continually drooping. It was nearly five o'clock. and I had to think of stopping to eat something. anyway. I was angry at myself for not being able simply to drive all day and all night until I had reached El Paso and found Uncle Palaver. Once again, this hateful body of mine was disappointing me. I took the next exit, and this time. I had to drive a few miles before finding what looked like an old-fashioned roadside diner. I saw the trailer trucks in the parking lot and imagined it was a popular stop. I remembered Daddy telling us that when you travel on highways in America, you should look for parking lots full of tractor trailers,
"Those truck drivers know where the good food is," he said.
That seemed so long ago now. It was truly as if I had led two lives. I listened hard and closely to everything my daddy said during those days. He was truly a heroic figure to me, handsome, successful, and strong in so many ways. I thought there was nothing he didn't know and nothing he could not do.
When little girls discover their fathers are just men, it's the first step toward the end of innocence. We don't want to take that step. We resist, but it's a battle fought in vain. I had to wonder, though, if Brenda had ever gone through it. Maybe that was the biggest difference between us after all. Brenda never had any childhood faiths to be broken. Brenda was born with realism in her eyes. Make-believe and fantasy were a waste of her time, detours that made no sense to her.
In the end, perhaps she was right. I thought. She faced no disillusionment, and the only
disappointments she had were of her own making. There were no mornings filled with dark depression and fear when bubbles of dreams popped.
I pulled into the parking lot, parked, and got out after gazing at myself in the mirror and doing the best I could not to look totally disheveled and wild. It would be enough that I was a young girl traveling alone. I didn't need to do anything else to attract attention. When I entered. I tried to be as
inconspicuous as I could be, keeping my eyes low, my head down, following the hostess to a booth way in the rear of the diner.
The place was very busy and occupied almost exclusively with truck drivers. I saw two women who looked as if they might be riding along with their husbands, but otherwise no other females. Three counter men and two short-order cooks were working feverishly to keep up with the orders and demands two very overworked waitresses shouted. The din of conversation was so loud I didn't realize there was country music playing over the speakers until I had sat myself and gazed at the menu.
The moment I did so. I saw Brenda's critical eyes watching me while she was waiting to hear what fattening food I would order. It was ironic how even after all that had happened and even though I was in flight from her as much as from anything. I could still hear her advice and her criticism and care about it.
I ordered water to drink and the roast chicken and vegetable plate with no bread. My waitress nodded almost as if she had expected no less and scooped up the menu before I could have a change of heart. I noticed one of the younger truck drivers gazing at me from the next booth. He smiled, and I quickly shifted my eyes to the window.
Night was falling faster because the sky was growing increasingly overcast. It's going to rain. I thought. I hated driving and riding in the rain. It always made the trip seem longer to me. There wasn't a sound more monotonous than the sound of the windshield wipers going steadily. Without realizing what I was doing. I closed my eyes and leaned a little more against the imitation faded red leather back of my seat. The drone of conversation, the clank of dishes and silverware, and the vague background of the country music worked like a lullaby. When the waitress returned with my dinner, I heard laughter and snapped my eyes open. All the men with the young truck driver were gazing at me and smiling.