“Are you lost, dear?” A stout middle-aged woman with bright red hair - just like her pickup truck - sticking out from her head, seated at the driver’s seat, asked me.
If I will answer her question with complete honesty, I would say I’ve become lost for a very long time, but that would be unhelpful at this moment. Today, I need a repair shop with a towing service rather than sympathy.
I squint my eyes at the light of the sun. “I am looking for a repair shop. Busted tire.”
“Well then, come on in,” the woman replied, leaning in the passenger seat to unlock the door.
I reached for the car door handle to open it when the red-coated handgrip detached itself from the door and fell to the sandy ground. I gasped and immediately bent down to retrieve the handle.
Why do I always mess things up?
With the handle on my hands, I said. “I am very sorry. I could replace that once we get to the repair shop,” I apologized to her.
“No, no. It’s okay,” the woman said with a reassuring voice as she stepped out of the truck and walked around, taking the handle from my hand. “It’s an old truck,” she laughed and reattached the door handle to its rightful place.
It took a minute for the door to open as the woman put all her force, pulling the handgrip so hard her palms became red like her hair. Finally, the door creaked open, and I hopped inside the car.
The car smells like an old woman perfume, but I have no right to be picky. This woman is kind-hearted enough to tag me along to find a repair shop.
I buckled my seatbelt, and the woman started the engine. I peek at the backseat over my shoulder when I heard something fall.
“Oops, sorry for that, would you mind?” she said, driving.
I extended my arms down to reach for the object that fell from the backseat. The thing that fell from the seat was heavy, that my teeth gritted a little when I tried to carry it. It was a pole with a wide flat shape at both ends.
When I returned the object to the back seat, I looked at the woman confusingly, “Why do you have a paddle in your backseat?”
“Oh, I have a celebration to attend,” the woman answered casually.
“On a boat?” I asked as I untied my converse to slip it off my feet and emptied it with sands by the window.
“Yeah, today is my husband’s first death anniversary, and I promised myself that every year, on the day he died, I will boat to the river where we first met and float flowers for him,” I look at her and that’s where I noticed a white wreath of flowers by the glass of the windshield.
We both lost someone we love, and hers was just last year and I was two years ago. And for all I know, I am very familiar with what a person looks like when in grief because I have been looking at that same face in my mirror for two years, but this woman here is far from what I looked like in my reflection.
“How did you move on from it that fast?” I asked her with my eyes, looking at the narrow empty road. I saw her smile faintly in my peripheral vision.
“I’m guessing you lost someone too,” she said. “‘You can’t truly heal from a loss until you allow yourself to feel the loss,’ that is one quote I stumbled upon when my husband died. I know it’s not that easy to just accept what happened, but that is the only thing to do. Accept and let go. It will take time and lots of pain but bear with it. I promise you it will be worth it because the moment you accept and let go is the time. You’ll feel they never even left because you know they will always be in your heart,” she continued.
I let out a sigh. “Why did he die? If you don’t mind.”
“He’s military.”
“Well, he died a worthy and brave man.” the woman looked in my direction and gave me the most genuine smile.
Along the way, the woman stopped at Roy’s Cafe and bought us some cheeseburgers and water when I told her how I ran away from the other gas station with an empty stomach, and nothing on my pockets asides from the pictures I stuff on it at Santa Monica.
Minutes passed. The car stopped in the middle of the road with nothing around but an old building standing out from the desert. Its signage hangs as one of its hinges lost its screw.
“This is as far as I can get. My destination is just ten minutes away, and this is the last repair shop we will pass by,” Rita stated as we both looked at the old building with unsure faces.
“This will do,” I smiled at her and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Thank you so much. Have a safe trip,” I said and hopped off the car. She smiled at me, and I waved goodbye to her.
I looked at the building in front of me. The building is so old that it seems like it coats the entire place with rust. There were few cars parked outside, beaten with its hood opened.
A man noticed me by the window of the building and walked to open the door. That made a loud squeak as it fell on the ground together with him.
I ran towards him to help when another man came out who had a name tag on the pocket of his polo to give the other guy a hand.
“Geez, what are you doing, man?” The man - who I believe is Tom what his tag says-asked as he helps the other guy.
Tom must have noticed me standing and walked towards me. “Good day! Welcome to Amboy Repair Shop. How can we be of service?”
Before I could answer back, I heard another squeak of metal as the other hinge of the signage above lost another of its screws and came falling again to the other guy’s head. The man then let out another groan of pain as Tom just gave me an awkward smile.
This repair shop needs some repairing.
Luckily, they have a towing service. I told Tom that the gas station was an hour or two away from here and the car was a yellow VW Type 2 bus.
I waited outside the repair shop since everything inside was an old beaten car, rusts, and grease.
The sun was much higher and shone brightly in front of the shop. I shielded my eyes with my hands from the sunlight and from across the road I spotted a cut-down tree, shoes hanging from its branches. It was the Amboy Shoe Tree.
I walked down the road to look at the Shoe Tree. This tree is one of the famous attractions you will pass by Route 66. No one ever knows the genuine reason people take their time to stop and hang their shoes by the tree. Some say people hang their shoes as a souvenir or remembrance that they have passed by the ghost town of Amboy.
You know, not all people are disappointing at all because, despite Amboy being a ghost town, they made a way for such a deserted town to stand out.
A piece of glass was lying on the ground. I want to put a remembrance on this tree too, but since I cannot hang my only shoes, I will instead dangle a part of it because just like what other people say I want it to be like a remembrance or a memory that despite everything that had happened to me; I made it past Amboy and I want others to know that they can, too.
I took the piece of glass and use it to cut a piece of my shoelace carefully and tie it to one of its branches.
Hours passed I heard a roaring engine of a truck carrying a familiar car at its back. It stopped a few feet away from the repair shop where I was standing as several feet landed on the ground. The first one to see me was Luna, and she came running towards me and hugged me.
“You crazy bitch, why would you run off like that? I’m so glad you’re okay.” she released me from the hug and I gave her a faint smile. “C’mon let’s get your hand fixed,” Luna dragged me to the others by the car.
“ELLIE!” Erin jumped and ran towards me. “We’re so worried about you. Please never do that again. Okay?” I nodded at her, and she smiled at me.
“Hey, William!” Luna called out, “I need your first aid kit.” Luna continued as the truck put down the car. William opened the back part of the car and walked towards us with a first aid kit in his hands.
“Ellie? You’re alive! Are you the one who called the towing service?” William asked me.
“Yeah, I felt bad for leaving you all there so might as well make myself useful,” I told him.
“Oh c’mon, don’t say that. From the very start of this trip, you’re the most useful among us. You’re our tour guide on this trip. Just don’t disappear again, okay?” William said and ran off to the other guys who were helping Tom with the car as he announced my presence to them.
Luna, Erin, and I sat at one of the parked car’s hood as Luna aided my hands. And since this was an old repair shop, the guys, including Tom, dragged the car to the repair shop with their veins popping out of their arms.
“Welcome back, Ellie!” Kayden screamed, as he pushed the car with gritted teeth. Nico saw me and smiled and made a salute gesture while Damien waved at me.
Luckily, Luna has her credit card and enough money in her pocket that made it possible for us to pay for the car’s tire.
Tom said that the repair will take less than an hour, so we waited outside by the bench nearby. It was already noon, and the sun was screaming with an intense heat that made us empty two 1.5 bottles of water as we ate bread for lunch.
When everyone already had their stomachs full, I told them about the Shoe Tree across the road and asked them to tie their shoelaces, too. They all ran, but Damien stopped in front of me.
“Here, take it.” he handed me a box of gummy bears. I looked at him, confused.
“What’s this?”
“A gummy bear. My mom always buys me and my sister a box of gummy bears when we feel sad when we were kids. I bought it at the convenience store because I was feeling down lately, but I think you need it more than I do.” I smiled at Damien.
This brings me back to the day where my mom, dad, and I buy yogurts and watch a bunch of movies all night whenever one of us feels stressed or down. My dad says this was one way we could show our care to the people we love.
“Thank you, Damien,” he gave me a thumbs up and ran with the other as I feel Nico skidded to sit beside me.
“Aren’t you interested in that tree?” I asked, pointing across the road.
“No, I am more interested in your hand. What happened to it, anyway?”
I look at him and said, “I punched a mirror.” Nico looked at me with his hazel brown eyes ready to suck you in a daydream as it gleams under the sun.
“Wow,” he whispered, returning his gaze to the road.
I can feel Nico’s curiosity. I think he knew that what happened a while ago was something personal to me, but as a decent person he was, he asked no more questions. And I admire people like that. People who know when it is time to stop asking a question and respect the person’s personal matter. People who don’t force others with things that are uncomfortable to them. And that’s what makes me want to tell him what happened.
I took a deep breath and let out an enormous sigh.
“It was at that convenience store,” I blurted out, “Where I lost my dad. We’re on our way to Havasu Falls too, but sadly, never made it.” I continued with my gaze still on the road. In my peripheral vision, I saw Nico nodded his head.
“You know how I met Erin?” Nico asked, and I looked at him as he continued.
“At the rehab center.”
“By the way, I’m Rita,” she said, biting on her burger.
“I’m Ellie. Sometimes people call me by my second name, which is Blythe,” I said, clapping my hands to dust off the bits of the burger I ate.
“Huh, Blythe. Do you know what that name means? It means happy or carefree or cheerful and I think you should be more of a Blythe, even after all that’s happened.” She looked at me and winked.
I smiled at what she said. I guess walking out from that gas station was not a waste at all.