Chapter 1

My name is Charles Addams and I have to tell you a story about what happened to me awhile back. You see, I recently retired selling my software company for a very tidy sum of money. I was only forty-five years old at the time, but I wanted to take advantage of my early retirement to do some of the things I had always wanted. One of those things on my wish list was travel. So I took a little drive to one of my local RV dealers and looked at the selection they offered.

Well, the selection there was overwhelming and I was amazed at the different types and styles of recreational vehicles available. I had done a little research before I went to the dealer so I could eliminate some types of RV’s.

I knew I was looking for a particular type of recreational vehicle, a Class “A” motorhome, something around 35’ or so – I wanted to have some room inside. I wasn’t real excited about towing and the subsequent hooking up and unhooking that I would have to do whenever I stopped, so a travel trailer or fifth wheel was out of the running.

After a couple of days spent at the dealers looking at floor plans and features, I picked out my new home on the road. I had selected a route home that would avoid most of the traffic and give me a chance to get used to maneuvering the huge vehicle. I stopped at the local WalMart and found an empty corner of the parking lot where I could practice parking and backing up the beast.

When I felt reasonably comfortable behind the wheel of the forty-foot long motorhome, I drove it home. I had to park it on the street in front of my house because my driveway was too sharp a turn for the motorhome to make. I locked the motorhome up and went inside.

The next day was spent packing and making arrangements to have the house looked after while I was gone. Fortunately, one of my neighbors said they would be glad to look in on the place, and I gave them a spare key to the house so they could go in and check the house out.

I went to the hardware store and picked up a few timers and set lamps and the radio up on timers to make it look like the house was occupied; just in case some troublemaker thought my house would make a good target. I also had the newspaper delivery stopped and alerted the local police that I would be gone so they could drive by from time to time and “show a presence”.

With all the preparations made and the motorhome stocked and ready, I decided to leave early in the afternoon on a Thursday. This way I would miss the traffic jams and the rush of people trying to get home Friday and get their weekend started.

The weather was a perfect 72F degrees (22C) and sunny as I set out so at least I was getting off to a good start. I left my home in Haddon Heights (a suburb of Philadelphia) and headed to the I-95 southbound.

My first destination was Atlanta, my sister and her husband live down there and they had a baby boy that I hadn’t met yet. It was an 800-mile drive from my house to hers and I figured I would stop somewhere about halfway for the night.

I was new to this traveling thing and wanted to ease into it a bit. Plus motorhomes of this size weren’t exactly race cars and the fastest I wanted to go on the highways was about fifty miles an hour.

I made it to Durham, North Carolina about the time that my ass was done sitting. I had checked the route and I knew that there was a WalMart close to the freeway there and that’s where I planned on spending the night. I pulled in and found a place that would make it easy to leave the next day and so I parked there. After a quick burger and fries, I went to bed, spending my first night in the motorhome.

The next morning I woke up after a very nice night. This motorhome was very comfortable and I was going to really enjoy this traveling thing! I didn’t bother to take a shower; I was going to be at my sister’s house in a few hours and I didn’t want to waste water. WalMart will let you overnight in their parking lot, but there are no water, sewer, or electric hookups so it is “dry” camping. Just a place to crash for the night.

I drove down the road a few miles until I found a truck stop restaurant. I pulled in and had breakfast before continuing on. Before I left I filled up my thermos with truck stop coffee and then I started on the road again. I figured to get to my sister’s place around 5:00 or 6:00. I had called her and let her know I was on the way and she said she’d add a plate to the dinner table for me.

I had just passed the interchange with Highway 15 when I spotted an old car stopped alongside the road ahead of me. I slowed down since it was off on my side of the highway and as I got close I saw a girl standing in front of the car with the hood up, just looking at the engine. It was as if the car broke down and she was hoping to fix it by staring at the engine. She was pretty as a picture and looked as if she was in her mid-twenties.

Well, I couldn’t in good conscience just drive on by thinking that she probably had someone coming to help her already. This was a major road and who knows what could be coming up right behind me – there are a lot of creeps and pervs in the world these days! And a pretty young thing like that is an easy target for the unsavory types.

So I pulled over and, after putting the emergency flashers on, got out and walked over to her. I asked if there was anything I could do to help. She snapped back at me, “Yeah how about phoning that asshole ex of mine and telling him thanks for leaving me with this piece of shit car! I should never have left home with this damn thing making all of the noise it was.”

I took a step back, wondering what I had gotten myself into.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s not your fault and you were just trying to help. Let’s try this again. My name is Julie Ann. Thanks for stopping,” she said, her countenance softening considerably. She stuck out her hand and I shook it.

“My name is Charlie. Now let’s see what we have here,” I said.

I looked in at the engine and could see a major problem. There was a big puddle of shiny black oil on the ground under the engine and a broken spotty trail that led back down the road from where she had come. I looked under the car and noticed right off that she only had part of an oil filter left.

“Did you run over something a few minutes ago?” I asked her.

“Well there was a piece of wood in the road but I straddled it. I couldn’t swerve around it, there was a car beside me. But I didn’t hit it, I don’t think,” she said.

“Well you may not have hit it, but it certainly hit you. It took out your oil filter and my guess is that you dumped your oil on the ground and then seized the engine up. This engine is finished and just looking at the car it looks well over ten years old. In the shape it’s in, and with a blown engine, it won’t be worth repairing. This car is headed for the scrapyard I’m afraid,” I told her.

“Oh no! Fuck! This day just gets better and better!” she said, exasperated.

“I can call and have a junkyard haul it away before the police come by and give you a bunch of heat about blocking up a part of the Interstate. Do you want me to call and arrange a tow truck?”

She looked back up at me. “Thank you, Charlie. I’d be grateful for whatever help you can give me,” she said softly.

I called a local wrecking yard and the dispatcher said they could have a tow truck there in about 15 minutes. I told them that the vehicle was not worth repairing and that she would be turning it in for scrap. The dispatcher said someone had to be there with the vehicle to sign it over to them so they could dispose of it legally.

“You can come into the motorhome if you like to wait ... at least it’s air-conditioned in there,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a little smile. We went into the motorhome and she took a seat on the sofa while I got us a couple of sodas from the fridge. Then I took a seat in the swivel easy chair, giving her some distance so she would feel more at ease. After all, she just went into a motorhome with a complete stranger, so I wanted to show her I was no threat.

“So where are you headed?” I asked her.

“Well, I don’t really know. All I know is that I had to get out of Raleigh and away from my ex-boyfriend,” she said. She proceeded to tell me her woeful tale...

“I was engaged to be married to my boyfriend. We met about five years ago at a party given by a mutual friend. It was an instant attraction and for awhile it was wonderful. But then I started seeing changes in him – nothing real big, not all at once.

But little by little he began to change from being sweet and tender and loving to being demanding, domineering and cruel. He started complaining about all the time I spent with my friends and even with my family. He eventually made me lose all my friends and I rarely saw my family.

Once he had me to himself and I was totally dependent on him, then he began abusing me. Verbally at first then becoming physically violent. He never actually hit me, his thing was busting up everything I owned. If he knew I had something I treasured, it would become the target of his wrath. Things my Grammy gave me before she died, things I had gotten at the State Fair, and so on.

Finally, I had enough and we split up for a while. He apologized and I thought he had changed –he was back to the sweet man I fell in love with. But it didn’t last long. So I left him, left Raleigh, and headed to someplace where I could start over. Of course, you can see how that plan worked out!” she said.

“Damn, Julie, that’s rough. I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but you made the right decision to leave. No one should have to put up with abuse,” I said.

“Myself, I recently retired and sold my company. I bought this motorhome and am now traveling around seeing the sights America has to offer – places I have always wanted to see, but never had the time. Now all I have is time and so I am crossing things off my bucket list,” I said.

“That sounds wonderful, Charlie. I’ve only seen Raleigh and made one trip to Atlanta with my parents when I was little,” she said.

“Well, I am headed to Atlanta right now if you care to come along. I have a sister down there I want to see and then after that, I will figure out where to go from there,” I said.

“Really?” she asked.

“Sure, why not? This motorhome is supposed to sleep six people so I have plenty of room. And I get tired of hearing my own voice, I’d welcome the company. Besides, you won’t get very far on foot, and hitchhiking these days can be really dangerous for a girl as pretty as you,” I said. I figured she could use a little morale boost and she was quite attractive.

“Thank you for the compliment – you are a sweet man,” she said. She thought about the offer for a minute or two. “Okay Charlie, I will keep you company to Atlanta. Thank you for the offer. I have a few things I have to get out of the car before they tow it away. Not much – only one suitcase and a couple of other things. That’s about all that’s left of my life now,” she said sadly looking down.

“Well hopefully this is the start of a whole new life – one that no one can take away from you and one with a better ending,” I said.

“You are sweet, Charlie. Thank you for your help and for being so nice,” she said smiling again.

“You can thank me by smiling like that more often. That smile lights up your face and looks good on you,” I told her.