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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1203704-The-Awkward-Traveler
Rated: 13+ · Other · Comedy · #1203704
Strange events based mostly on a true story of a woman who tries to escape her past.
Sara had exhausted her tears until crying was no more. Her sore limp body laid spread out on the ragged couch. Every muscle in her frail body seemed to burn with a vengeance. For several long moments she simply starred up at the ceiling. No thoughts passed through, she just spaced out. The utter silence of her small home brought a temporary peace. Slowly her big brown eyes began to close.

Ahhh...sleep. Sleep was the sweetest escape from all of realities problems. She began to prepare her mind for something wonderful to dream of.

Hmmm...how about a new house? Yes, a new house with air conditioning! What else? Oh! A beautiful walk in closet with clothes! Yes, clothes that aren't thrift store bought with funky smells and pit stains! And a man! A man who doesn’t have two felonies with a pending probation hearing and the tendency to shop lift at every department store.

Sara's dreams were just barely in the making when she felt something tickle her arm. In her early stage of sleep she simply brushed away the sensation. She felt the feeling again. With an annoyed yawn she peered down at her arms.

"Oh Geese!" Sara jumped up from the couch hitting her arms furiously. "Oh! OOhhh!"

As she threw her arms around wildly a roach fell from her arm. Sara began to stomp like a mad woman desperately trying to smash the little monster. The black roach dashed under the couch, barely disappearing from her wrath. Still Sara continued to stomp the dirt floor all the while screaming every obscenity that she could think of. Her body moved as if she were having some kind of seizure. Long black hair came undone covering her face. Cheeks turning red and out of breath Sara resembled a mad woman. Finally she fell to the floor.

In a breathless whimper she cried, "This life is awful! Just awful!"

She stumbled up looking into the broken mirror that hung above her couch. The image of herself nearly made her stomach turn. Sara could not recognize her own reflection. Her black hair had once been so beautiful, long and silky. It was long but full of split ends and in desperate need of some coloring. Her pretty face was quickly growing weary from sleep deprivation. Then there was that hideous canary yellow maids uniform. She had been hand washing it for months now and was given only one uniform. She hated the smock that could be spotted a mile away.

Wear it with pride; you work for the best hotel in town.

"Pride?" Sara couldn’t believe her supervisors remark. "What pride? I'm a maid! I clean freaking toilets all day long!"

In a rage she awkwardly threw off her maids smock and threw it victoriously to the ground. Spinning on her heels she took a glance at the small boxcar home she had. It wasn’t really a boxcar; at least that’s what the landlord had told her. Sara had her suspicions. She could swear that it was indeed. The floor was nearly dirt, unsteady and uneven. The tiniest of wind would shake the entire home! Causing her pictures to fall of the wall. In the winter it was bitterly cold and the summers were sweltering.

“Just go out the back and pump the well a few times. Then you’ll have plenty of cool air.” The liar of a landlord had told her. It came to be that it needed nearly a hundred pumps for barely ten minutes of air.

As Sara circled the home she became more and more disgusted with herself. Nodding her head in disappointment she began to grow angry. She was angry with herself, angry for settling for less and allowing the strange circumstances of her life to take control.

A single picture still hung on the wall. It was her only three years ago, before she had met Rob. Smiling cheerful in her high school graduation gown looking as if she was headed for a life full of possibilities. Sara glanced back down at herself. She looked down at her bra, which was ragged, as it was the only one she could afford. Her slim figure was turning to a sickly thin. Looking back at her picture she felt enraged.

“I should kick my own ass!” Sara yelled. “How could I let everything go to pot like this? Crack addicts in the street don’t look as nasty as this!”

Suddenly the ringing of her phone interrupted her self-intervention. Picking up her cheap prepaid cell phone she answered.

“Yes?”

A smooth husky voice answered back, “Hey baby? It’s just me. You off work already?”

It was Rob, her two-year boyfriend.

“What is it Rob?”

“Well baby, I’m gonna be a little late getting home tonight.”

Sara drew in a deep breath. “How late and why?”

“Well baby, see we gotta work a longer shift today. You know get this furniture delivered. We got an overload today and are running behind. But this is a good thing because I get some overtime. The boss says…”

Rob continued on with his lying while Sara nearly choked as she heard someone in the background holler out…

“Hey man the whiskey is half off tonight!”

“Shut it!” Rob tried to whisper. His voice returned to the phone. “Ha…these guys are so over worked their acting silly.”

Sara was no fool she knew that he was lying.

“Okay Rob that’s just fine. Really it is.” Sara was amazingly calm.

“Really? Cause we might not get back until real late.”

“That’s fine. You have to do your work.” She rolled her eyes.

“Awww gee babe your so sweet. Later!”

She threw the phone down and threw her arms in the air.

“You lying piece of trash! Working late my foot. No good drunken fool! You ruin everything.”

Sara picked up her phone again. “Oh! And you take all my minutes! Oh!”

Digging in her pocket she pulled out a small bundle of cash.

“$221.37. This is all that I have. That’s okay because this is going to get me out of this mess. You hear that Rob? You stupid loser. I’m gonna take this $221.37 and get the heck out of here. I don’t need your filthy cheating funky ass anymore. You scrub!”

With those words she packed up every half decent piece of clothing she had and headed out. She had no idea where she was going or what she would do but as she walked away from the dinky boxcar home she felt something. A strange release seemed to give her the courage to keep walking. For Sara life was already as bad as it could get. Now she was taking control. No more chaos. She was walking towards a new a brighter life.

So off in the evening darkness she began to walk bearing nothing more than a duffle bag and $221.37. She felt oddly confident that everything was going to be okay. That somehow things would just work out.

“Okay, here I go, off to new and exciting places. A fresh change where I can begin a chaotic free life.” Turning around she realized that she had no idea where she was going.

Just then a bright flash of lights came towards her. It was a truck and it was slowing down as it approached her. The headlights blinded Sara. The vehicle was an old beat up pick up. As it pulled over she could see that there were three old Navajo women riding in the bed of the truck. They were bundled up in traditional colorful dress, not seeming to mind sitting in the bed of the truck. From the driver’s side a very handsome Navajo man hollered out to Sara.

“Do you need a ride somewhere? I’m headed out of town but I can give you a ride if you need it.”

The young man gave a fine and definite smile. Without thought Sara nodded and hopped in the empty passenger seat. She didn’t even bother to look back at the boxcar. IN fact Sara didn’t even think twice about how odd it was to see traditional Navajos driving like that in the middle of Chicago. Or why three elderly women were riding so uncomfortably in the bed of a truck when there was clear room in the front.

No she thought of none of those things as she cheerfully drove away with the strange a Navajo man. Her new journey was already beginning.


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