The Edge

"I forgot it," I say.

"I don't mind the dog, it's just -- hey, you okay?"

I smile, usher Jax in the car and drive away.

My windows are down, and it's so hot with the early afternoon sun beating down. Jax looks miserable. I think this is I-70, but I'm not sure. I notice my gas light blinking and try to remember if I got gas at Spee-Dee Mart. If I run out of gas, I won't know what to do. The jeep starts chugging. I see a place to pull over, turn off the car and light a cigarette. I'm so hot, I'm so tired, and I can't think anymore. I'll figure things out when I wake up. I crawl into the back seat of the jeep, and decide that, if I just stay put, someone will find me. How long have I been gone? Someone must be looking for me. Jax jumps in the back seat with me, and I shoo him to the front. With his tail wagging, he comes right back. He thinks we're playing a game.

Jax and I get out of the car and start walking. I wonder if there's an emergency call box up ahead. I've never used one before, but how hard can it be? We don't walk very far, and I stop, tell Jax to sit and stick out my thumb. I've never hitchhiked before. A blue sedan drives by, and the driver honks his horn; a minivan full of children drives by, and the kids point and wave at Jax. A scene from the movie "Mystic Pizza" flashes through my mind. In the movie, Julia Roberts and Adam Storke are riding in a Porsche that breaks down on a beautiful road in autumn. The man tries to flag down cars, and no one will stop. Roberts, dressed in a black cocktail dress, heels and her long, curly hair, strikes a sexy pose, and immediately someone stops. I roll up my boxer shorts, flip my hair, strike the same sexy pose. Nothing.

Before long I notice a firetruck pull off the road up ahead. The driver sits there for a moment, and I wonder what to do. Then the truck slowly starts backing up.

"Where you headed?" he hollers through the passenger side window.

"Bethany College," I say hesitantly. The middle-aged man whips out a map, tells me he doesn't know where that is and asks if I can show him. But I can't read a map on a good day.

"Where are you going?" I finally ask.

"Martinsburg, West Virginia."

A light bulb goes off. I have a friend who moved out there not too long ago. I've never been there. I'll find a pay phone and call her. Except, she's married now, and I can't recall her last name. It's a long one -- "S-A-L-V," no, that's not it. "Z-I-W-A-R." I'll just figure it out when I get there. "Can I go with you?" I ask the fireman.

"Hop on in," he says, pushing open the passenger-side door. There are four large silver steps in front of me to climb to reach the seat. Jax looks at me. "Can I bring my dog?"