South - Day 4
At 10:25 a.m. I finally got out the door and immediately saw a restaurant around the corner. A message painted on the windows read, “We support our troops.” The decor had dimly-lit dark colors, clean tables, and a buffet of various freshly cooked foods laid out next to the kitchen. A short black man wearing a knit scull cap welcomed me as a tall, young black woman walked into the kitchen. Then an older black woman, who evidently just finished preparing the lunch buffet, put on her coat and exited the front door with purse in hand. “Could I just buy a piece of chicken?” I asked, thinking of the miles ahead. “Sure,” the man said, “That’ll be $1.50. Make sure to take some bread.” Pleasantly surprised, I helped myself to some freshly baked cornbread. “Do you have some water? There’s some spring water over there,” the man said. I gratefully filled my water bottle, thanked him, and made my way to the door. The young lady called out from the kitchen, “Have a good trip!” or words to that effect. Chicken never tasted better. What a blessing to stop at the House of the Lord!
Waking without a headache for the first time in ten days, but still coughing, I studied maps and got a late morning start. Amazing hospitality at a local cafeteria. Picking up food along the classic Athens center, I negotiated Route 78 southeast up a big long hill with strip malls. The urban sprawl led to massive supermarkets and parking lots on the left. A brand new retro car-hop on the right. The road abruptly condensed into two country lanes. I sent gifts home from a country store at the next junction. At darkness, I inquired at a video store in the small town of Crawford and eventually found a bed a couple miles away.
The owners of the local B&B had gone out of town, so Melanie at the video rental store was calling laundromats and such places to find me a place to stay. Her little son played hide-and-seek with a dachsund while another lady cross-examined me about my wedding band. Unaware of television reports about fugitives, I joked, "My wife said to come home soon, but not too soon!" Then they sent me across the street to eat, where I had salmon and met 70-year-old Rose, who had seen "everything but Mount Rushmore." Sure enough, she described my little New England town to me. Back at the video store, Shirley came in during a shift change, and offered to put me up. No, I didn’t need a ride. When I arrived in the dark, her daughter Kim let me in. While I lay on the cozy shag carpet watching the New England Patriots qualify for the Super Bowl on TV, Shirley's pregnant grand-daughter and her husband visited with Kim. A clean stars-and-stripes flag, neatly folded in a triangle, resided in a corner display case of my bedroom.
Labels: journal