Melissa's Honor

Chapter 3

Chapter 3


Six hundred miles was a song her mother used to sing to her in the happier days, Melissa recalled. Six hundred miles sitting on her but in a car that had become too cramped was not really happy at all. Melissa had navigated exit 263 to US Highway 189 easily, more than happy to get off the road. The air was cleaner here, she noticed, when they stopped for food and potty spots. She could see brown hills, nearly small mountains, in the distance. The snow was melting, but the air was still nippy. Utah was still desert like land to her, barren even, but she could see the clouds, fluffy white in the sky and she knew that she made the right choice.





Stopping at a gas station before the last main leg of their journey, Melissa found food, a clean enough restroom and a place for the pooch to do his business. Well aware to keep drinking plenty of water, she also invested in an interesting book on tap set that would keep her awake during the long, endless highway going across Utah to the south eastern border of Wyoming.





Jack decided he wanted his lunch on a picnic bench. Smiling softly, Melissa took her sandwich and chips and his dog food to the bench. They watched the freeway as the ate in the sunlight, a carefully planted crop of white daisies and fire-like sunflowers blowing in the never ending breeze by their side. Melissa ate her sandwich contemplatively, thinking about where they were going to live in Wyoming. She had kept her expenses down by travelling during camping season, and spent a great deal less on accommodations by camping in state parks along their way than she would have staying at hotels. She preferred camping in the outdoors, the wild free air and the convenience of hot showers and electric hookups in one spot.





Never one to socialize for the fun of it, Melissa stayed to herself at the campgrounds, quietly watching everyone around her live their lives. They never thought about how precious their lives must be, away from the never ending battle of drugs and addictions, the gunfire in the streets, the lack of safety even if you were indoors.





She wasn’t always alone, however. Once some well meaning college boys hanging out for a weekend of beer and bikini babes offered to help her set up her camp, seeing she had only one hand. Jack didn’t seem to think they were bad people so she allowed one to help set up the tent, amazing the rest of them with her dexterity despite having only one hand. That night she became a favorite among the boys. Shyly as was her way, Melissa deftly brushed aside their attempts at seduction, going to be before they had had too much beer cloud their spirited judgment. She had fun that night, being with people who wanted nothing more from her than her company.





Another night, she spent in the company of an old lady and her ancient Corgie. Both of them on their last legs, they were camping for the last time, the old lady said, before her grandchildren put her away in a home for her own safety. The old lady and Melissa made Smore’s and told stories, laughing at the antics of people they had known, both of the stubbornly staying away from the more hurtful parts of life they had endured. It was a night for joy and the two girls made sure they lived it up for every cherished moment it was worth.





Although a young woman camping alone was not usually a good idea for safety, the state parks had their own park rangers and the people there were mostly large families and retired folks having fun in the woods. Throughout her journey Melissa found that she had been in more danger living with her husband than she ever was camping out across the United States.





Three days after she left LA, Melissa made it to Cheyenne Wyoming, home of the wild cowboys that dotted literature since the mid-to-late nineteenth century. She had read about a square where enormous cowboy boot-sculptures had been painted to resemble different themes, one had two deer looking things having a drink together on grass (the foot of the boot) under a blue sky (the top of the boot). Another was made to look like a church with heaven looking over it. She wanted to visit the boots, and she wanted to see her new house. She wanted to see the rodeo when it passed through town, and she wanted to make a friend to have high tea with after visiting the Botanical Gardens. She wanted to visit the Bison ranch near the city and she wanted to find a route to jog with her dog during the mornings before she went to work. She wanted to get a library card and actually feel comfortable in a small city library





Melissa  was slated to spend the night at Curt Gowdy State Park. Calling the real estate agent on her cell phone, she maneuvered her car around the town, catching glimpses of the big painted cowboy boots as she went. “Hello, Mr. West? Yes, the is Melissa O’Conner. Hi, listen I just got into town and I’m making my way to the house. Oh, your wife just got some new chicks? Do you make fried chicken? Oh you just did ! Was it good? I am glad for you, you’re making me hungry.” To her dog she rolled her eyes. “Listen, would you be able to show the house to me? I would really appreciate it? Alright, that would be great, see you there.”





Jack sat upright in his seat, knowing he was getting closer to home. “Well Jack, here we are. In our new city and home. Excited boy? I am so glad that I knew a bank manager to get that loan for me ahead of time. I finally own something of my own, can you imagine!”