Provo Alone

Dad pulled into the rest stop, somewhere around Provo, Utah. From my perch in the nook above the driver’s seat in Grandpa Joe’s motor home, I’d been watching the road. Keeping track of where we are.

Mom, Dad, and my brother got out and went to the bathrooms.

I better get out too. I always had a small bladder. Mom once even took me to the doctor about it, although nothing came from it. I still have to go to the bathroom a lot. Better not chance it.

I get out of the motor home and stretch, looking at the mountains. There are fewer trees here than in Washington; we’re on a flat plane. It’s pretty here.

There’s a girl, a couple years older than me, wearing a cowboy hat, boots, and a pink western shirt. I didn’t know we were getting into western-style territory. I’ve seen pictures of Arizona before, where we’re visiting my aunt and uncle, and I know it’s in the middle of the desert, with those little cacti with the three arms that you see in cartoons, but I didn’t know that the whole cowboy thing went all the way up here.

I’m more of a pop music person myself. Def Leppard. Bon Jovi. Tiffany. Not a fan of country.

The building is made of big cinder bricks, like a lot of other bathrooms in rest areas we’ve been stopping at. Plants line the paths, and some picnic tables dot the lawn on one side. I don’t see my mom when I go in, or when I wash my hands on the way out.

When I exit the bathroom to return to the motor home, it’s missing. No, not missing. It’s driving off. All I see is the back of the vehicle and its tail lights.

I run after it. “Wait!” I shout.

But it’s too late. They didn’t see me, and are already out of sight.

My heart sinks. They must think I’m still in the little nook above the driver’s seat. That I never got out to begin with.

They’ll eventually realize that I’m not there, of course, and turn around. Retrace their steps. But how long will that take? Will my brother try to reclaim the coveted spot where I spent the afternoon, and they’ll notice then? Will they drive all the way until dinner time and find out I’m gone when they get out to eat? We just ate a couple hours ago, so that might be a while still. It could take hours until they return.

“Little girl, did they leave you?” It’s the girl in the cowboy gear. She has blonde, braided pigtails, and freckles on her cheeks.

“I’m not little!” I reply. “I’m thirteen.” I know I look like I’m ten or eleven though. It always annoys me when people think I’m a little kid.

She holds her hands up. “Sorry.”

A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye. I wipe it away quickly, but so much for making people think I’m not little. “I was lying in the area above the driver’s seat when we got here. They didn’t know I got out. They didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I’m Annie.”

“Christie.”

She turns around. “Mom!” she yells. She drew out the middle of the word so it sounded more like she was saying “Mawm.”

A lady in a prairie dress approached and smiled. “Ready to eat, Dear?”

Annie tilts her head in my direction. “Her parents drove off without her. Thought she was in the motor home.”

The lady’s jaw dropped, just a little. “Oh, my!”

“They didn’t do it on purpose,” I say.

She bit her lip, just a little. “This won’t do. We can’t have you sitting here all by yourself until they come back. We’ll stay with you.”

“It’s okay. They’ll come back.”

“I’m sure they will. But not everyone is nice. We could call the police instead. There’s a pay phone.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want them to get in trouble.”

“I know we’re in Mormon country,” the mom said, “and they’re good people. Not as good as Southern Baptists, of course, but most of them can be trusted. But not everyone is from around here. We’re from Texas. Spending Annie’s spring break in Montana to see my son. He works on a ranch there.”

“I’m from Washington. It’s spring break for me too. We’re going to see my aunt and uncle in Eloy. In Arizona.”

“We’re having a picnic. Want some cheese and crackers?” the mom asked.

They always teach us in schools not to take drugs or accept candy from strangers. Does cheese and crackers count? “I—don’t know. We just had McDonald’s a couple hours ago.”

She shrugs. “That’s fine.”

I follow them to their car, a Chevrolet Blazer. They have a Bush/Quayle ’88 sticker on their bumper. Not surprising, them being from Texas. I don’t know what my parents think about Reagan, other than them mentioning he falls asleep sometimes in meetings.

She pulls out some paper plates, a bag of apples, a box of Ritz crackers, and some sliced cheese in a plastic sandwich bag from the car. The cheese is white.

“Swiss cheese?” I ask. That’s the only kind I know that’s white. Well, I guess there’s mozzarella too, and parmesan, but that comes in a green can. My mom usually buys American or cheddar cheese for our sandwiches.

“Provalone.”

I think I’ve heard of that kind of cheese before. Never had it though.

I follow them to one of the picnic tables, where a man in cowboy clothes is already sitting.

“We have a new friend,” the mom said. “This is—”

“Christy.”

“Christy. Her parents accidentally left her here.”

“They’ll be back soon. They don’t know I’m missing.”

“Well, nice to meet you,” the man says, with the same drawl the rest of the family has. “Must be stressful.”

“I hope they don’t take long,” I say.

“I’m sure they’ll head back as soon as they figure out you’re missing,” she says. “I told her we’d stay with her. Cain’t have a girl out here by herself.”

“You’re right, Judy. We can’t leave a little girl here by herself.”

“I’m thirteen.” I frown.

“You’re just a baby. But Annie is fifteen, and she’s just a baby to us too. She could be fifty and she’ll still be our baby.”

I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. Adults.

Judy starts setting out plates, including one for me. “It might be a while before they come back. You really should have something. McDonald’s isn’t good for you.”

“We almost never eat there. Just on road trips.” Fast food is too expensive. Sometimes Mom takes us to Taco Bell though, when we’re out shopping in Bremerton. The tacos, burritos, and pintos and cheese are fairly inexpensive.

“Apple?” Judy offers. She doles out apples to all the other plates.

I shake my head. “I really just ate.”

“Here, at least try some cheese and crackers.” She puts a couple crackers and squares of cheese on my plate. “Just a snack, at least.”

Everyone else has some, so I guess it wouldn’t be the same thing as taking candy from a stranger. Or drugs. “Okay. But just this.”

I nibble on the cheese and crackers, taking small bites so I’ll keep having food and they won’t try to give me any more. As I have my snack, they eat their more substantial portions, and talk about their son, whose name is Mark and they’re excited to see.

They seem nice enough, and I’m secretly glad they’re staying here until my parents come. As we sit here, cars are coming and going, using the restrooms, buying stuff out of the vending machines. Most of them are probably good people, but I’ve seen enough after-school specials to know that people get kidnapped all the time. Sometimes I hear stories on the news about the Green River Killer, although I think he kills people somewhere in Seattle, not Utah. But maybe Utah has their own version of the Green River Killer.

After we finish eating, Judy puts the food away, and I get the chance to talk to Annie. She’s a sophomore in high school, and likes country music. She likes Randy Travis and Reba McEntire the best.

As we talk, I continue to watch the parking lot for my parents. I’m starting to feel guilty that they haven’t shown up yet, even though I’m enjoying Annie’s company. Every time a motor home pulls up, my heart beats a little faster, until I realize it’s not my parents.

After about an hour, a motor home roars into the rest area. This time it is my parents.

I break out into a wide smile. “It’s them!”

As soon as it stops in a parking space, Mom opens the door and gets out. She’s looking around frantically.

“Mom!” I shout.

As soon as she sees me, the fear on her face melts. She runs towards me, and we embrace in a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. When she releases me, I turn to my new friend. “This is Annie.”

“Nice to meet you, Annie.” She smiles.

My brother and dad are right behind me. I hug my dad, but not my brother.

“We found out you were missing when I went to trade places with you up top,” my brother says.

“Glad it didn’t take too long.”

I hug Annie. “It was nice meeting you. I’ll remember you always.”

“Same,” she says. “I never met anybody that got left at a rest area before.”

I laugh. I can do that, now that I’m safe. “Have fun visiting your brother.”

We all get to the motorhome, and I sit at the dining room table.

Dad looks behind from the driver seat. “We’re all here?” His eye twinkles a bit.

“All here,” I reply.

I open the curtain and watch my new friend as he pulls away. I wave. It was only one afternoon, but it was an afternoon I’ll never forget.