Highway 80

I was alone Travelling Interstate 80 Following the route of the early Western pioneers 2900 miles across the midsection of America Stretching from the East Coast to California In Utah home to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints The land becomes flat and straight Large signs on the edge of the road Warn drivers about fatigue and drowsiness Tired and hungry I drove on Watching shadows move in the sunlight Day turning into night On an empty highway Finally I stopped at a place off the road. An old woman showed me around Small talk On a warm evening Life is a delusion she said Young man There are terrible people out there You ought to be careful Cause you’re young you know. The room was small Fan cutting through the humid air Telephone ringing in an empty room Lights flickered In the shadows She pointed to a spot Where an old man died We kept the shabby couch she said Too expensive to throw out Out Here We’re as practical And frugal as the Mormons So we kept it. No sense in thinking about it any more She whispered The more you think The more mixed up you get Besides it’s wide A bed for two and very comfortable. I tried paying for the room She looked in my face Searching for something Then down at the crumpled bills in my hand Wetting her fingers she counted the money I don’t know if you kids have everything Or you have nothing Time and experience will tell I guess Then she handed some of the money back to me I don’t need that much Beside it’s only money Son That’s all it is Life is short You hold on to it You’ll need it later I looked puzzled She smiled We all have our secrets. I was up early next morning When the old woman appeared I figured you’d be leaving soon she said Heading West? Yes I replied Going to look for family out there? No just myself Afraid? A little Lightly touching my arm she said Don’t be afraid. You’re young. There’s always been magic in a young heart The roads are clear this time of morning. Ride straight and you’ll do fine. The engine revved up I was moving at 60, then 70, then 80 Windows wide open Wind pouring in Not another car on the road I was alive I was free The morning belonged to me.