So yesterday was our day off in Vegas, and we enjoyed it.Today we were supposed to get back on the road.But well, we don’t want to. Our hotel is banging and we have a five day cushion before my husband starts his new job. So one more day by the pool and then we’ll hit […]
Planned Route: Flagstaff, AZ to Las Vegas, NV 5 hrs, 25 minutes of driving 346 miles Planned stops: The Grand Canyon Today is the literally the reason for the trip. When we started talking about this move, the first thing that really excited my family was going to the Grand Canyon. There was something irresistibly […]
Planned route: Albuquerque, NM to Flagstaff, AZ 6 hours, 16 mins of driving 363 miles Planned stops: Boca Negra, Old Town Albuquerque, The Continental Divide, Petrified National Forest It’s always good to be flexible and have back up plans. Construction got us in to Albuquerque about an hour later than we planned and we had […]
Planned Route: Elk City, OK to Albuquerque, NM 6 hours, 14 mins of driving 432 miles Proposed stops: Cadillac Ranch, Tucumcari, and Petroglyph National Monument Today we start slowing down, which everyone is thankful for. But this is also what we were looking forward to the most, the Southwest!
So when one day that was just like any other day the past eighteen months, my husband saw a job in a small town in Oregon, much farther south and east than we had ever discussed living, but it’s his dream job, at his dream salary, he jokingly asked me if he should he apply.
And, as his manic pixie dream wife, I said, “You’re goddamn right you should apply. Who cares that it’s not anywhere we ever considered living. It’s small and safe, on a lake, in the mountains, in the high desert. Oh no! It’s gorgeous! Whatever shall we do…”
Now, we’re moving to Oregon in a week.
Inside the cracked walls lay a sleeping bag and kerosene cook stove as well as three heavy duty sledge hammers. Bart lifted one and rested it on his shoulder,“Don’t know how much experience ya might got with these, but against a little rock monster it seemed like the best tool.”
Morgan hefted one. “Like a baseball bat right? Choke up on the bottom?”
“And swing from the hips.” Chelsea lifted the final hammer.
Eyes heavy, Chelsea rested her feet on Morgan’s chair.
“Excuse me?” The tone was playful and perky. Like they hadn’t stayed up all night and then spent most of the morning chasing a brain leech.
Chelsea rubbed at her crusty eyes. “Can you drive, cause I’m not sure I can.”
“Are you serious?” Morgan chuckled and shifted Chelsea’s foot. “You’ll let me drive the car?”
“Hm?”
“Like you didn’t half panic when I offered to take a shift in Ohio.”
“That’s not exactly true. You were really upset, that’s why I didn’t let you drive.”
“Oh, bullshit.” Morgan snickered. “You had the same look when I picked up that coat.”
Chelsea laughed and shook the fringe on her arms. “Oh, you don’t touch the armor.”
Bart squatted by the fire, greasy grey hair tucked behind his ears. “The squonk should be sleeping now, but it’ll be up in a few hours. It ain’t afraid of people or smoke, so we won’t bother it none. They eat hemlock though, and this grove is the biggest in the area.”
Chelsea had dreamed of the prairie often since leaving. She had never imaged she’d return the same way she had arrived, exhausted and heart-sick.
The cop studied her license. “Chelsea Childling? Did your dad write comics?”
“No.” She wasn’t in the mood for banter over her name. She had driven for sixteen straight hours and wanted some sleep.
“Says here you’re from Georgia?”
She nodded and deliberately thickened her accent. “Yes, sir. Born a peach, die a peach.”
Words That Burn Like Fire 