We drove on, passing through Illinois and into Indiana, and the flat, dull land sailed by. It was after 10:00. All I could see were the blinding headlights of oncoming cars and the glow of the highway signs as we sped past. I didn’t mind that it was dark. Our parents had taken us on a camping trip a couple of years earlier to the East Coast. I remembered driving the exact same route. I wasn’t missing much.
That trip was nothing like this outlawish adventure to Washington, D.C. I sat in the back seat then, Jenna in the seat next to me. We played tic-tac-toe for hours. I almost never beat her. She must have been the best tic-tac-toe player in the world. I’m pretty sure the only reason I did win a couple of games was because she let me win.
“Hey! Way to go! You won!” she’d said. There was no sarcasm in her voice. She was genuinely happy for me.
After tic-tac-toe, she handed me her iPod. She had just gotten it earlier that summer. It was her pride and joy. She was always listening to it. “Here, check this song out,” she said putting one of the ear buds in my ear and taking the other for herself. It was “Here Comes the Sun” by the Beatles. She was always into that older stuff. I guess it “spoke to her,” as she once told me. We rode like that for a while, attached at the ear by the vibrations of the music. Mom turned around and smiled at us when she thought we weren’t looking, but I’d always had really good peripheral vision.
In the front seat of Josh’s jeep, Jenna was staring out, looking somber. I wished she were in the back with me, beating me in tic-tac-toe, her iPod blaring in my ears. I wondered if she was as nervous as I was about Dad. He had told us specifically to come home and we ignored him. I was sure he’d call again soon. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and stared at it for a minute, the bright screen blinding me in the dark. He would call again. I pressed the power button and watched the glow turn to black. Josh was flipping through the radio stations, but nothing good was coming in, just a lot of twangy, country music. No one had talked for an eternity. I couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Can I ask you guys something?” I said as I inched up to the edge of the seat and poked my head in between them.
They both turned toward me, a bit surprised. “Sure,” replied Josh. I didn’t wait to hear from Jenna.
“I thought you guys were fighting. When did you get back together?”
Jenna laughed. I hadn’t heard her laugh for a long time. “Well,” she said. “When we found out about Mom getting hurt, I had to talk to someone, so I went over to Josh’s and we talked for a while.”
You could have talked to me, I thought.
“It took me a while, but I guess I realized he was just trying to help. I was being pretty stupid about the whole thing.” She paused for a minute. “You know, Tim, this trip was actually Josh’s idea.”
I turned quickly to Josh, but he was keeping his eye on the road. “Really?”
Jenna continued, “Yeah. I mean, I brought up the idea of wanting to go see Mom, but he offered to drive me. I didn’t even ask.”
I scooted to the back again. I didn’t know anyone who would do something like that for me, at least not any of my friends. Not Seth. Then I remembered Nicole. Would she have done that? I wanted to call her and ask her right then and there. But I thought I knew the answer.
Jenna’s phone rang. Jenna took it out of her purse, looked at the number and stuffed it away again. “Was it Dad?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m sure you’re next.” She obviously didn’t know I turned off my phone.
It was after 1:00 in the morning. I had dozed off a little in the back seat, but I was awakened when I felt the car slowing down. I opened my squinting eyes. “We need gas, and I could use a little break,” said Josh.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Elkhart, Indiana,” Jenna said. “We’re making really good time.” We pulled up to a truck stop with a big, red sign that said EAT. At least I assumed it was supposed to say that. The ‘T’ was burnt out, so it actually said EA. I got out of the car, rubbing my eyes. The red, white, and blue of American flags hung from streetlights up and down the main highway, the colors gleaming under spotlights.
We dragged ourselves into the restaurant and waited at the crooked sign that said, “Please Wait to Be Seated.” It smelled like cigarette smoke. My uncle Jim smoked a lot. Every time I left his house, my clothes reeked. I didn’t like the idea of eating there, but at 1:00 in the morning our options were pretty limited. A couple of minutes later a voice called out from behind the counter. “Have a seat anywhere you like.” The hostess was a little raspy and sounded tired. The dining room was empty except for two guys sitting at the counter drinking coffee. I figured they were the drivers of the two big rigs outside.
We grabbed a booth next to the window. The seats were torn in different places, the fluffy white padding sticking out like twice-baked potatoes. I plopped myself down right on top of a bump in the seat, so I scooted down a bit toward the window. Jenna and Josh scrunched in on the other side of me.
A waitress came over and gave us menus. It was the same woman who had greeted us when we came in, the one with the tired voice. She must have been the only one working. Her eyes hung low on her face. They were dark-ringed like she hadn’t slept for days. She wore a yellow-and-white uniform with a crooked nametag by her shoulder. I expected it to say “Flo” or “Alice,” like the TV show, but instead it said “Candace.”
“How ya’ doin’?” she asked as she placed three glasses of water in front of us.
A chorus of, “Good,” came from our mouths.
“I’ll give you a couple of minutes to look over the menu,” she said and walked back to the counter where she was talking to the two truckers.
“I’m definitely in the mood for some breakfast,” I said. “The French toast sounds good.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” said Jenna, smiling.
“So, looks like we can make it straight through without stopping overnight, right?” asked Josh.
I nodded. It was easy for me to say yes. I wasn’t driving.
“Yeah, I think so,” said Jenna. “I can take my turn driving too, if you want.”
“We’ll see how I feel,” he said, unconcerned.
The prices on the menu were cheap, but I again realized I had nothing to pay with.
“I’ll pay you guys back for this stuff. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Josh said.
“You can do our laundry for a week. How about that?” Jenna joked.
I laughed. “Whatever you say,” I said with a giggle as I looked back down at the menu.
Candace came back a couple of minutes later to take our order. We all got the French toast. We figured even a dive restaurant with a burned out sign couldn’t screw up French toast. Right as Candace was turning around to go back to the counter Josh stopped her. “Candace?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s that in the picture above the register?” ‘I hadn’t noticed it when we came in, but when Josh pointed to it I saw a picture of a guy in a green Army uniform. He had almost no hair, but he had an Army hat with a real straight brim and a bunch of badges on his coat. He looked real serious.
Candace paused before answering. “That’s my son, Thomas. He was in the Marines.” We all glanced at each other when she used the word “was.” I didn’t think we should pry anymore, but Josh was curious.
“He’s not anymore?” he asked.
“No. He passed away in the line of duty about four months ago.”
“Geez. I’m sorry,” said Jenna. Josh and I both nodded, confirming our sympathy.
Our stares told Candace that we wanted to know more, so she continued. “He was in Iraq. Just outside of Baghdad.” Baghdad. That was where Mom had been. “A roadside bomb blew up next to the Hummer he was in. There were six of them. Nobody made it out alive.”
“That’s terrible,” said Josh as Jenna nodded in agreement.
“We’re going to see our mother,” I said. I’m not sure what provoked me to tell Candace, but it felt right at the moment.
“Oh, yeah? Where’s your mom?” she asked.
“She’s in Washington, D.C., at the hospital.” Everyone around me looked confused. Jenna and Josh seemed surprised that I had offered so much information, and it was clear Candace was now curious. “She was in Iraq too. A nurse. But she got hurt pretty bad, so they sent her to the hospital in Washington.”
“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” Candace asked. I looked at Jenna. Her blank stare confirmed what I was thinking.
“We hope so,” I said. “How old was your son?”
Candace turned and looked back at the picture. “He was twenty-three. He died three weeks before his twenty-fourth birthday.” As she spoke her voice quivered, holding in the grief. “Let me go put this order in for you. Your food shouldn’t take long.” With that, she walked back toward the kitchen.
“Thanks,” said Josh. Candace waved her hand to acknowledge him, but didn’t turn around.
We all sat in silence for a few moments. “So, it could be worse,” I finally mumbled, fiddling with my silverware.
“Yeah,” said Jenna softly.
When the French toast came, we devoured it. Traveling makes a person hungry.
Candace brought us our check after a few minutes. “Here you go guys.” She paused for a second. “You know, Thomas isn’t the only one from around here.” I didn’t understand what she meant at first. “Two others from this town who were in Iraq have passed, and there are still seven others over there. That doesn’t even include those that have been sent to Afghanistan. I really hope your Mom’s okay. And if she is, be really thankful she’s coming home. I heard a nurse was killed over there recently.”
I remembered Dad saying that a nurse was killed in the explosion that hurt Mom. It must have been the same nurse Candace spoke of.
“You should feel blessed,” she said. We nodded, but none of us knew what to say. “Have a safe trip.” She gave us a soft smile.
“Thanks, Candace,” said Josh. She nodded, walked over to the picture of her son, ran her finger along the frame gently, and walked back to the kitchen, her head down. All I could think about at that moment was getting to Mom, and as I glanced at Jenna, I could tell that was all she cared about too.