text: The bell above the door tinkled as I pushed into the convenience store. I needed a few snacks and to pay for the gas. I couldn’t get over how here in the West people still had to go into the store to pay for gas. So much of this trip had felt like a step back in time. I grabbed the healthiest things I could and was surprised that there was fresh fruit in a basket. The price was nice, too. There was also a little stand of “freshly pressed” juices. How fresh could it be? But it did have a local farm sign next to it, so I grabbed a bottle. “You’ll want to grab you two of those,” called a voice from the front. “They’re that good, are they?” I called back. “Oh, yes! And Ms. Elsie don’t have much stock left.” I decided to humor the man and picked up a second bottle. Placing my items on the counter, I told the man, “I also have the blue car at pump two.” While the old man rang up my items, he started, “Oh yes, Mrs. Elsie makes the best juices for miles and miles around. Nice and fresh. That’ll keep you cool as the day heats up. Now, I don’t think I seen you around here before. You new around here?” “Oh, I’m just passing through.” “We get a lot of that. Now did you check your oil and tires while you were here? It’s a ways to the next station unless you’re turning off somewhere soon.” “Yes, sir. I checked all my fluids and the tire pressure. My daddy drilled that in my head.” “Ooh! He raised you right!” I couldn’t help but smile at the man (Ched by the name on his shirt). He reminded me a lot of my father. He seemed genuinely interested in talking to me and sincere in his concern about my ride. “Now, you going down Highway 22 toward the Capital?” “No, just staying on Highway 74 to Café Haven.” Ched frowned. “The half-way point on the road with no end?” “Yes, sir.” Ched’s frown turned into disappointment, but all he said was, “You be safe now, you hear?” “Yes, sir,” I replied as I gathered my items and headed back to my car. Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” played on the radio as I bopped along. The song had always resonated with me. I couldn’t help but smile thinking about Ched. He seemed like a man from another time. So genuine, a genuineness that I hadn’t seen in so long I had forgotten that people could be interested in other’s existences. His frown at Café Haven, though, struck me. Surely, he saw people passing by that had found the fulfillment of their dreams, their bliss, at Café Haven. But also, why did Café Haven look no closer on my GPS? I had been driving for hours. I lost myself in the music and tried to enjoy the landscape. The flat, dry, treeless tan that stretched as far as the eye could see was so different from the Big City; but I loved a good adventure and exploring the different, so I soaked it all in. Another hour passed and my attention started to drift. Suddenly a giant rodent...or perhaps a tumbleweed, flashed out into the road. I swerved. I hit an unseen pothole. Pop... and the steering wheel seemed to have a mind of its own. By the tug on the wheel and the noise from the road, I knew that I had a busted tire. I pulled over to the side of the road at an intersection with a smaller highway completely prepared to put the spare on myself. As much as I could, though, I hated changing the tires on a car. I was just squatting by the rear tire, tools by my side, ready to loosen the lug nuts, when a shadow passed over me. Looking up, I saw a woman a few years older than I. Her hair was swept in a messy ponytail and her white shirt was stained. She looked like a no-nonsense person from the start. “Hi. Need a hand?” she asked, getting right down to business. She didn’t wait for an answer but turned and waved her hand. I leaned over and saw a minivan, well-loved but not broken down, and a gangly teenage boy hop out of the passenger side. “Give this lady a hand please,” the woman addressed the boy. He looked at me and only said, “I got this ma’am.” I was so confused by the rapid change of things that I just stood up without thinking and moved out of the way. I finally found my voice. “Oh! Well, thank you. I don’t want to trouble you though. I do know how to do this,” I finally stuttered out. “No trouble, ma’am,” was all the boy said as he got to work. I didn’t know if I should be offended that they just assumed I needed help or by him calling me ma’am so much. I was still so lost that I was startled when I felt something cold on my arm. “Oh!” “Sorry, ma’am,” came a squeak from a younger boy who could have been the gangly teen five years earlier. “Here’s a water.” I took the water bottle and the little one scampered back to the side of the minivan. “Sorry about that, Miss,” the woman was speaking again. “I’m trying to teach him to announce his presence, but he likes sneaking up on people. I’m May. May McCardle. These are my boys, Jake and Harris.” “Hi, I’m Marielle. I really appreciate the help, but I really hope I’m not inconveniencing you. It’s really quite sweet of you all to help.” I tried to mean the words, but I also put my hand on the small of my back as if to stretch. I surreptitiously checked that my cell phone was in my back pocket. I could run if I had to. I had never had strangers just offer to help me out for no reason. I was frightened to say the least...but also glad to not have to get greasy. The woman gave a nice laugh. “It’s okay,” and she winked at me. “You aren’t from around here.” I wasn’t sure if that was a statement or a question. I tried to laugh and keep my answer light. “What makes you think that?” She laughed again. “It’s a rental car, and you don’t seem used to Western hospitality. We don’t leave people stranded on the side of the road. It’s too remote and too hot. It’s dangerous.” “Oh!” I relaxed a little. “Yes, well, thank you again.” The gangly teen made quick work of the tire, and the woman and I had only a few minutes to chat about the area. I kept an eye on the teen to make sure he wasn’t messing up anything - accidentally or on purpose. When he was finished, I thanked them again and tried to pay the boy. His mother was adamant that I not. She believed in doing good for the sake of doing good, but she appreciated the sentiment. As we started to part ways and both boys were back in the minivan, she finally asked, “Where are you headed anyway?” “Café Haven in the middle of Highway 74.” “The road with no end?” she asked. She frowned as Ched did. “Well, okay.” May seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but then she said, “Good-bye and good luck.” With that, she turned right on the connecting highway, I continued down Highway 74. I turned back on the radio and Whitesnake’s “Here I Go Again” was playing again. Man, the West sure loves it’s 80’s hair bands. For some reason I wasn’t feeling as into the song as I normally do. I changed the station and Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin’” rang out. The song selections were starting to unnerve me. I tuned the radio again and was met by some current pop hit that sounded like all the others. Good enough to shake my shoulders to as I cruised on. Hours later and the sun was moving quickly to the horizon. I checked my phone and realized I had service. I checked the GPS, but Café Haven had moved no closer to me. I messaged my friend...again. I noticed a station up ahead and decided it was time to hydrate and dehydrate and check the car. Just as I was pulling in, there was a loud clang under the hood of the car and smoke seeped from the edges. A shout of frustration escaped my mouth. I was able to maneuver the car into an out of the way parking spot in the station’s lot. I banged my head on the steering wheel and let the tears drop into my lap. My mind filled with the stress of what waited for me back at work, the silence of my friend, the foreignness of here, the flat tire, and now the busted engine. The tears just continued to fall. “You okay, Miss? You really shouldn’t stay in your car with it smoking like that.” I look up and into a set of beautiful hazel eyes. It was as if I was looking at a solar eclipse, a golden sunburst spreading out into an emerald ring. I quickly wiped my eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Just having the worst luck.” The owner of the eyes seemed about my age and quite attractive. He was dusty and casual which I had discovered was typical of the locals. He held the car door open as I grabbed my bag and got out. Of course, my cell phone was no longer in service. “Do you think the station has a phone? I guess I need to call the rental company.” “Sure. Old Man Luke has one at the counter in the store. He’ll help you out.” The call to the rental company didn’t go well. I couldn’t stop the feelings of despair. I let my head fall onto my arms and concentrated on taking deep breaths. “There now, young lady. Drink this. We’ll fix you right up.” Old Man Luke had placed a steaming hot cup of something beside me. The warmth of the mug was comforting despite it being a hot day. He had a kind smile that reached his crinkly eyes behind his thick glasses. His warmth and genuineness reminded me of Ched so much I wondered if they were brothers. I picked up the cup and took a sip and was startled. “Is this orange juice?” “Freshly squeezed,” he beamed. “Better than tea or coffee. Plenty of vitamins. It’s a local favorite remedy for anything that gets you down.” I looked skeptically at the mug but took another sip. And another. Hot orange juice. Who knew? “Ah, good,” Old Man Luke seemed pleased with my sips. “Now tell me what’s going on.” “The rental agency said they would send a tow truck out and I could pick up another car. Apparently, this one was not supposed to be rented out.” “Well, that’s good!” “The tow truck can’t get here for three days,” I continued, “and the new rental is in New Hope. Where is that?” “Ah, that’s a couple hours down Highway 74.” “Well, at least that’s in the right direction, but I don’t suppose there’s a bus that runs from here to there.” Old Man Luke scratched his head and considered the situation. “No,” he said slowly. “No bus around here. The rental can stay here until the tow gets here. Getting to New Hope...” He thought some more. “Hey, Luke,” the man with the eyes had come into the convenience store. “Did you-“ He stopped short when he saw me, the mug, and, I’m sure, my tear-stained face. “Sorry, to interrupt.” “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m just taking it all in. Go ahead.” Old Man Luke’s eyes lit up. “Cort, son, aren’t you heading back to New Hope today?” Cort, as he was called, looked suspiciously at Luke. “Yeeees,” he drew out. “Why?” “Well, this young lady needs to get there to get her a new car for her adventure.” Old Man Luke said nothing else but looked expectantly at Cort. The seconds ticked by uncomfortably. I tried to save us both. “Oh, no, I could never impose like that. Surely there a bus or train or taxi service...” Cort looked at me. “No to all three. It’s no imposition, but I do want to leave as soon as possible if you need to grab food or use the toilet.” Cort turned to Luke, apparently assuming the deal was done. “Did you get that package I ordered?” As the two men talked, I went to the bathroom in a fog. Was I really getting into a car with a total stranger? Was a total stranger really willing just to give me a ride, a ride that would be several hours? We hadn’t even discussed how much it would cost. Was this safe? I came out of the bathroom and found Cort standing next to a truck. Just like the minivan from earlier, it looked well-used but certainly not broken down. He was looking at his phone. “You have service?” was my way of greeting him. He looked at me and grinned. “You have to be a local to get service around here.” And he winked at me. Once more I was taken aback by the ease and openness of the people. Cort opened the passenger door, but I hesitated. He smiled again. “Strangers are often taken aback by the ways of the West. We take care of people around here. We stop for people on the side of the road. We give hitchhikers a ride. We feed and comfort those who need it. I promise to get you safely to New Hope.” Oddly satisfied, I hopped in the truck. Cort closed the door and got in on the other side. Whitesnake’s “Here I go Again” came on the radio, and Cort immediately changed the station. An even older tune came on that I couldn’t quite place. We rode for a while not speaking. I watched the landscape roll by. “Life in the city must be tough,” Cort said out of the blue. “Excuse me?” What he said hadn’t quite registered. “The Big City. It doesn’t seem like people help each other much there. Seems kinda lonely.” “I can’t argue with that.” “What’s in New Hope for you?” “Oh, I’m just picking up the new rental. I’m meeting a friend at Café Haven.” “At the middle of the road with no end?” And the frown of disappointment crossed Cort’s face. “Ok,” I said. “Every time I say where I’m going people frown and look disappointed. Don’t you people want people to find their bliss?” “Well,” Cort seemed to be considering his words carefully. “Highway 74 doesn’t end.” “Yes?” “Highway 74. No end means no middle. Café Haven has always been a legend, just a dream people chase until they are crazy.” I couldn’t help it. The tears started again. I was so embarrassed. My cheeks burned from a thousand suns. The obvious reality of it all hit me hard. “I’m so stupid,” I whispered. “Chasing a dream. Of course, people just made up finding it.” I turned my face to the window trying to keep him from seeing my tears. Cort let me cry. After a few minutes, I felt a hand enclose mine. He didn’t ask, but it spilled out anyway. “I’ve heard all my life that bliss could be found at Café Haven. People returned and said they had found it. I never let myself see they were just as miserable as before. I’m so drained back home, I put everything in this trip when my friend called saying this would be exactly what I needed. Why would my friend do this to me? My friend won’t even return my messages now.” I sobbed. Cort squeezed my hand. I wiped my tears. We changed the subject and spent the next few hours in easy conversation. We laughed. We shared deeply personal stories. We told silly anecdotes. I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Cort, much as I was surprised by so much I had seen in the West. I was surprised at how fast the time had passed when Cort pulled into the station at New Hope where my new rental was waiting. Cort stayed with me as I got the new rental all checked out. “Are you continuing on Highway 74?” he asked. “I have to,” I shrugged. “Maybe the bliss is in the chase?” “That's lonely." Cort paused and then, "Dreams can be built with the right people.” Cort gave me a big hug. It felt so comfortable considering I had only just met the man. “Well, I’m turning here, heading into town. There is a great little diner with the best pie on Main Street that I’m going to have dinner at.” I smiled, and he held open the car door as I climbed in, ready to keep west on Highway 74. “You know,” Cort paused before closing the door. I buckled the seat belt and looked up into those hazel eyes. The sunbursts around his pupils were more pronounced, overtaking the emerald. “You know the thing about roads that have no end, you just have to choose to turn off them. New Hope is full of people who chose to build their dreams on a side road.” He closed the door, and I watched as he climbed into his truck. He gave a little wave as he turned south into town. I sat and sighed. I turned the car on and pulled out of the station. I looked west down Highway 74. Then I turned south into town. Pie sounded like a delicious idea.