Chapter 5

He was right. Oh boy, he was right.

Driving through New York was Interesting, once we got out of the city areas. The countryside was pretty. And then? A long, boring ride, with breaks for bathroom, fuel and food, followed by another long, boring ride. Sure, we had the radio to listen to, but after a while, as we went from one broadcast area to the next, it was the same stuff over and over.

Cher had to Believe that the Back Street Boys would Want It That Way, but Shania Twain was quick to say That Don’t Impress Me Much. And while I was enjoying myself, unlike Ricky Martin, I wasn’t Living La Vida Loca.

But the time allowed us to talk and I got to know Pat better, and as a result, he got to know me. I asked about Chica, since he had said that she usually rode with him.

“The girls love her and she is happy to visit. And keeping her in Virginia for now is one less thing for me to be concerned about. When you go home, I will have her ride with me again.”

“You miss her?”

“She’s not much of a conversationalist, but she keeps me company.” He looked over at me. “So, you know about my family, tell me about yours.”

“You know I’m starting 12th grade in a few months at Brunswick High. Smack in the middle of the thundering herd of students, concerning grades. Go Pirates! My parents are still married. Only child. Dad is an optometrist and mom is a part time clerk at Penny’s. She usually works in the Juniors department. Between her knowing what the sales dates are and the employee discount, I think the majority of my wardrobe is from there.”

I laughed to myself as I remembered one of the battles we had, concerning shopping for school clothes. “Mom! There are other stores at the mall besides Penny’s!” And her answer was “Maybe, but they don’t give me a 35% discount!”

I then mentioned family in Savannah and Atlanta, and even down in Jacksonville and out towards Tallahassee. “I have lots of family. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. But we’re not all that close.” I was slightly jealous of how much he seemed to care for his sister and nieces. “When the family gets together, it’s usually just the holidays and the adults are happy to sit, drink and talk while the kids figure out ways to not be bored to tears. Usually we watch TV.”

“Any pets?”

“I have an aquarium with 4 large Koi. I named them Major, Minor, Diminished and Harmonic.” I paused. “I tell them apart by their scales.”

We found a place to stop just as we were starting to worry that Pat was going to reach his daily drive time allowance. We parked in another truck stop and enjoyed a hot shower and dinner.

“So after a long day on the road, any idea what you want to do tonight?”

I blinked. “Um, no idea. We’re in a new place and we don’t know anything about it.”

“Hon’? If the two of you don’t mind walking, there’s a movie theater a few blocks from here. Its a triplex and they got a new Disney movie playing.” The waitress smiled at us as she gathered the empty plates off the table. We laughed, we grew concerned, we shed a few tears and then laughed some more. That night getting ready for bed, Pat grabbed my foot and grunted, as he recreated the scene when Tarzan looks at Jane’s foot and then her leg. However, since I wasn’t worried about him looking up my petticoats, I didn’t kick him, just giggled a lot.

We reached our destination in Buffalo, just before noon the next day. I swear, when we opened the trailer doors, these folks looked at us like we were delivering gifts from Santa,. They restored Mustangs out of love for the car. They came from different backgrounds, but as one said, “We share a love of the pony.” There was even some guy who drove from Michigan to act as a consultant while they got started.

His wife was a cute little redhead, and when she found out I was also from the South, well, we had a ‘Southern Girl Gab-Fest’ for an hour while the men were checking stuff. I made sure that everyone knew me as Melody.

Pat called Clyde at the home office and was told that there was nothing pending for a few days so we could rest a bit. He would probably have something lined up soon. “Grab your passport, sweetie, we’re going international!” I blinked. “Huh?” Miss Eloquent, that’s me! The Mustang Club was happy to let us keep the truck parked there and one of them would drive us to a car rental place.

A couple of hours later, we crossed into Canada. The guard at the border crossing hardly gave us a second look as he asked what we were there planning to do. “We have a few days and want to be tourists!” We didn’t need passports. Our drivers licenses were just fine.

We found a nice little motel and then went out to see the town of Niagara Falls. Lots of cute (and expensive) tourist gift shops and other things. A wax museum, the ‘Believe it or Not’ museum, and other places. It was second nature by now, and Pat held my hand as we strolled along the sidewalks. Late afternoon found us thinking about dinner so we found a small place to eat. Stepping inside to be seated, I saw that the décor was sort of decorated like a Canadian Cracker Barrel.

We ordered, and the waiter asked what we wanted to drink. I ordered a Coke. “I think I’ll have a beer,” Pat answered. “Domestic, or imported?” the waiter asked. “Imported, please. No preference.”

The waiter returned with ... A can of BUDWEISER. Pat looked surprised. “It’s imported sir,” the waiter smirked. “From America.” Shaking his head, Pat grinned. “I don’t even drink this brand when I’m home! How about something from NORTH of the border?” The bottle had a moose on it.