I was a little over five hours out from my summer home on my drive to my winter residence in Sarasota when the GPS directed me to get on the Green River Parkway near Boling Green Kentucky. I remember It was overcast but a pleasant drive and I was amazed at how little traffic was on the road for a late Wednesday afternoon. Right as I crested the top of a hill, some movement far ahead to my right in the tall grass just outside the wooded tree line on the embankment caught my eye.
Suspecting that it might be a deer, I tapped the brake, disengaged the cruse and started to slow down while thinking to myself: "I just picked this thing up and I don't need dead deer all over the front it."
When I got within a few hundred yards I could tell it was a small person and within several hundred feet, I could see a slender young lady standing there. She was wearing tattered jeans and a shirt tide at the tail above a slight bare midriff and holding a cardboard sign. As I pulled up on the shoulder to stop, I saw that it read: "Kansas City."
I looked around to make sure that she wasn't some form of decoy teamed up with thugs to jack my new Escalade and when I was confident that she was alone, I powered down the window and asked: "Do you need some help ... Or a ride miss?"
She stepped right up to the open passenger window, looked at me with the bluest of eyes, checked out the interior and answered with the question: "Are you alone?"
Seeing her apprehension and detecting a little fear in her voice I answered: "Yes, but I'm safe."
She looked to her left down the length of my new SUV and almost jumped out of her skin. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw a red tractor pulling a white trailer start to crest the hill several hundred yards behind us and she got right in. When I signaled to pull back onto the Parkway, I noticed it had pulled off at the exit right behind us and we drove away.
I said: "Look, my name is Peterswiftt and I think you may have gotten yourself turned around. Kansas is way north west of us and I'm headed due south.If you would like, I can get off at the next exit and drop you off on the northbound lane and that will get you back on the right track."
To my surprise she answered in the heaviest southern accent that I had ever heard: "It don't matter, if you don't mind I'll just ride with you a spell. I was looking for a couple or even a lady to ride with, but I'm already in and feel somewhat safe with you. This is a fine car Peter ... My name is Nay."
Trying to keep my eyes on the road, I glanced over and saw an attractive skinny young girl with dirty blond hair and a worried look on her face. I asked: "How old or you Nay?"
She answered a bit concerned over that question: "Why, dose that really matter too you?"
I answered: "Not to me, but it could to a trooper if you're underage and we get stopped crossing state lines."
She said: "I'm twenty one, I'll be twenty two in a couple of months ... I think." And she looked down and the Styrofoam carryout container that I had sitting on the floor in front of the center console caught her eye.
I asked: "Please tell me what's going on with you, are you in any danger or some kind of trouble?"
She sat quiet for a while staring at that takeout box and I said: "Look, I had a late lunch, that's half a French dip, I didn't eat off of it, it was cut in half when they served me. You are more than welcome to it, that is if you're hungry."
To my surprise she asked: "What's a French dip?"
A little suprised, I answered: "It's a sandwich, roast beef on a bun. Take a bite, you'll like it."
She fumbled with the container and finally got it open, held it in her lap and devoured every last crumb.
I said: "there's a soft sided cooler behind my seat with some bottled water in it, grab us each one. And when you sit back down," I told her: "You may want to buckle up." And I put my thumb under my seat belt at my chest and gestured."
A few seconds later she was buckled in her seat and had finished off both waters. After about another mile of silence, she came out and said: "I lived with my Gram since I was born, back in the Appalachia hills. She passed four days ago."
I said: "I'm sorry to hear that, my condolences."
She said: "It was her time. A lot of people came through our cabin for her wake. My cousin Charley is a trucker and he showed up the last day. After we put her in the ground, he offered to drive me to town to finalize papers making the old cabin and farm mine. On the way there, he tried to take advantage of me and when I fraught him off, he dumped me out on the side of the road and radioed other truckers. They've been passing me around for three days, but I didn't give in. I wouln't let them touch me.
Shocked at what I had just heard, not wanting to address it directly, I asked: "What about the papers and your place to live?"
She answered: "Hell, that was just his way to get me alone with him. Gram signed that old place over to me when Pop died. I should have known better, the bastard."
She looked and sounded upset, so to change the subject I said: "Something smells fishy."
She said: "Mister, what I told you was God's truth."
And I laughed and said: "That's not what I meant. When's the last time you showered or had a change of clothes?"
She snapped back: "Look, these are what I left in, I didn't expect to be gone three damn days."
I apologetically told her: "Look, that's not healthy. There are two of my daughter's suitcases in the back full of clothes. When I stop for the night, you can get cleaned up and changed into whatever fits you the best."
Skeptical and real apprehensive, she asked: "Well where's your daughter anyhow?"
"Home, I would guess. She flew down yesterday. To make it more convenient for her and to avoid the extra charges per bag, I offered to drive them back with me. I normally fly but I just got this vehicle and I wanted to transport it to my home in Florida and you have no idea what I'm even talking about, do you?" I asked.
Trying to cover for not really understanding everything that I said, she asked: "What size is she?"
I answered: "I don't know, a four or a five, maybe a six." Then I covered my ignorance by saying: "I can tell you, she's about your size."
She asked: "That sure is kind of you, but won't she need her clothes."
I answered: "She has closets full of them and to be honest with you, she probably wouldn't even miss them. The bags will more than likely sit in my entrance foyer for weeks, before she takes them home. "