This chapter is a little long as I couldn't find a convenient place to break it up. Be patient. There are 'happy endings' about three-quarters into the chapter. So, like I said... 'Be patient'.
Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing and feeling it.
My parents knew why I had to get away. Laura's parents knew why I had to get away. I was pretty sure that both were glad to see that I was getting on with my life and not just drowning in a world of loneliness and a sea of depression.
Laura and I had laid together many nights savoring the comforting warmth of each other's bare body and just wondered what it would be like to just drop everything and travel across this great country with no particular destination in mind. To see other parts of the country besides where we grew up. To spend the nights in campgrounds with fellow travelers. Get up when we want to. Move on to the next campground when we wanted to. Spend quiet time together. Hike, fish... swim... swim nude when we could. Make love under the stars.
We knew that it was a silly and impractical dream, especially at our young ages and careers, but still, it was fun to just let our imaginations go wild. I guess that now, I was about to live out the dream that never happened with just a memory guiding me.
The Class-A Motor Coach that I bought was the kind of RV that Laura and I had wishfully dreamed of taking that journey in.
It was definitely way more than I needed for just myself but, for the two of us, it would have been great, fun, and comfortable. The RV came with a Queen-sized bed, drop-down bunk, indoor and outdoor shower, kitchen area, generator, air conditioning, and 32-inch TVs in the living room and the bedroom with a sound system that could blow you away. Maybe a bit extravagant for just myself but, it was part of our unfulfilled dream and I wanted to live out that dream as best that I could, although now I would be alone in that dream.
Putting everything in storage, except for the keepsakes of Laura, that I held so close to my heart. Then, after promising both sets of parents that I would text or email regularly about where I was and what was happening in my life, I was prepared for the next part of my life journey.
On a sunny day in early May and standing outside the fueled and ready RV. Decision time... where?
I knew that there was something out there, something that was waiting for me to find. To be discovered. I had no clue what it was, where it might be, or how long it would take. At this point in my life, I had all the time in the world.
Digging a quarter out of my pocket and letting fate and the invisible hand of My Laura determine the direction to head, I watched the shiny coin sparkle with life in the late morning sun as it tumbled high in the air before landing at my feet.
Heads - North... Tails - South.
Another coin flip: Heads - East... Tails - West.
Ten minutes later the RV was headed north and then later west across the upper Midwest guided only by destiny to 'God Only Knows Where'. Little did I realize.
I stopped wearing my wedding band shortly after the funeral. Instead, our rings: wedding bands and Laura's engagement ring were on a gold chain around my neck and rested just above my heart. Sometimes when I was driving over the open road, the necklace would hang from the sun visor on the passenger side. Letting her 'see' what I was seeing and feeling.
Mingling with fellow travelers at the various campsites brought a new and refreshing feeling. Over time, my deep depression very slowly faded, although it returned at times. Usually, something out of the blue would trigger it. Like, someone just saying a phrase that Laura would say. Or something on the radio.
It seemed that somebody always had a campfire going and music playing. I learned that that was an open invitation to anyone and everyone to 'Come on over'. The ages varied from those who were a bit older than myself to retired couples. Most were families out on their Summer Vacation with their young kids, or retired couples just enjoying life. I was pretty much the only single guy at every campsite. Nobody asked why I was traveling alone, which I was grateful for.
Some campers were there for just the night before moving on. Others for more. And then some didn't know, or care when they were moving on. Stories were told. Experiences shared. Advice on which campgrounds were better than others. World events were pretty much ignored.
We all carried our own tools and emergency replacement parts like fan belts, radiator hoses, and stuff like that. So, if anyone needed some diagnostic help or help changing out something that didn't sound right, everyone was eager to lend a helping hand. With so many varied backgrounds, there always seemed to be one or two who were 'mechanically inclined' as opposed to those who were 'mechanically challenged'. It wasn't like we were a band of gypsies. Instead, it was like we were kind of like a family of nomads with everybody heading in different directions.
In all, it was fun. I got out and started to experience life again. Keeping in daily contact with my parents and weekly with Laura's parents, because they wanted me to, was kind of like writing a diary. Perhaps something that someday I would share. Besides my texts and emails to both sets of parents, there was my private notebook, for my eyes only that I would share with my Laura in the quiet of each night.
Early in my travels, there were many wooded campgrounds where each morning I would be woken by the familiar 'Chirp'. Later in the day sitting and listening to their songs of cheer as a chorus of the red males and pale brown females sang in harmony. It always warmed my heart when a male would feed his mate one of the many seeds that I would place out in the open. In my mind's eye, they were kissing. I read somewhere that Cardinals are love birds that mate for life. That made seeing a pair of the red and brown birds together even more special.
However, each night I would look up to the stars and wonder. Somebody told me once that the stars are the whispers of loved ones we have lost reminding us that they are always watching over us. Each night I always wondered which star was Laura's; wanting to believe that it would be one of the brightest with the most vibrant twinkle.
Helping stranded travelers was something that I did whenever I could. Some just ran out of gas. It always struck me as strange whenever that happened. I mean, that's what gas gauges are for.
Most were 'tire issues'. I got pretty good at changing tires. Those stranded ranged in ages from teenaged girls, who stayed in their car while the potential 'serial rapist or axe murderer' changed out the tire, to families, to retired couples. Everyone, except the teenage girls, offered me something which I always refused and just told them to lend a hand to some stranded motorist whenever they could but to always be safe.
Thinking about it, it may have been a little careless on my part, given the way the world was. But I figured if we don't help out when our fellow man needs help, what does that make us? I know... cautious but still.
...................................
There was one such stop out in the middle of nowhere in the southeast corner of Montana that changed my life.
Sometimes I traveled the interstate. But most of the time I just liked to get off the beaten path and take my time to really see the countryside. Passing through small towns and stopping in mom-and-pop cafes for some real home cooking was fun and relaxing. Maybe spend the night in a local motel, when a campground wasn't available, or just having a few beers in a local tavern. Just being with honest-to-goodness down-home folks who could give a 'white rats ass' about the opinions and craziness of the rest of the world.
It was early afternoon. Coming over the crest of a small hill, I saw a good-sized white pickup truck pulled off to the side of the highway about a mile ahead with the emergency flashers on.
It's strange. Whenever you decide on something that will change your life, you don't even realize that you're making it. It's only in hindsight that we realize how important some, seemingly insignificant, things really are... I call it 'The 'Butterfly Effect'.
Pulling up behind the disabled vehicle, like I had many times, I saw steam coming from out from under the hood. From the rear, I could make out a head of blonde hair and a face from the side mirror cautiously watching me approach. Standing off to the side of the driver's side window a young girl, probably around my age, peered back at me with a worried and helpless look through her sunglasses.
She tried to talk, but with the window closed I couldn't hear a word. Slowly the window cracked open a bit.
"How long have you been sitting here?"
"Maybe an hour. My phone's battery's dead so I can't call anyone, and nobody's driven by."
"Pop the hood. Let me take a look."
The majority of the steam had vented off, but there was still enough to see that it was the top radiator hose with a pinhole venting the last of the steam from the radiator. Fortunately, it was right at the connection to the radiator just behind the clamp. It looked like I might be able to cut the hose at the pinhole and have enough hose left over to reach the radiator connection. It should hold until she would be able to get to a garage. The other option would be to see if one of my spares would fit.
"It's a pinhole in the top radiator hose."
Her face sank.
"I think that I can fix it to the point that you can make it to a garage in a small town, which I think is about fifteen miles from here."
There was a gentle smile for the first time since our meeting. It warmed my heart.
It was a stretch, but the hose made it. Filling the radiator with water and starting the engine, everything looked fine. Another smile.
"I'll follow you until you get to the garage."
Another smile that was bigger than the last with lots of bright white teeth. Her face was still hidden by her sunglasses.
It was late afternoon when we pulled into a repair shop on the edge of a small town by the name of Broadus in Powder River County situated in the southeast corner of Montana - population 468.
From across the parking lot I watched as she got out of her car and quickly went inside. All I really saw was a loose jean-covered butt.
Fifteen minutes later, she came out of the garage's office, grabbed her purse, and leisurely strolled over to where I was standing next to my RV. It was the first time that I had a chance to really see her.
She was a cowgirl alright. And I don't mean one of those 'Daisy Duke' types. This was a real working cowgirl. She was petite maybe around five foot three with a tiny waist. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail that poked out from the back of a faded green John Deere baseball cap. Her jeans were worn, not tattered, but you could tell these were her 'working' jeans. The cowboy boots were brown and scuffed from wear. The loose long-sleeved 'work shirt', with the sleeves rolled up hid any curves. But what really caught my eye was the smiling and beaming face. Her sunglasses still hid her eyes and the details of her face. Still, from what I could tell, she looked to be cute.
"Jack said it would be a couple of hours as he needed to finish what he was working on first, as the customer was waiting for it."
Then with a smile, "I guess with everything going on we never got around to introducing ourselves... I'm Amanda. My friends call me Mandy."
Then, with a smile, "I guess at this point, you've made it to my 'friends list'."
Returning the smile and holding my hand out, "Thanks, Mandy. I'm Steve."
