Thomas Lyons

I remember like it was yesterday. Packing was never a strong point of mine, but this time, I

managed to not have anything block the back window so I could see out. After getting the Dont do

anything Stupid talk from my father, I proceeded to go outside to meet some friends who wanted to see

me off. As the garage door closed behind me I looked forward to my friends, my car, and an adventure

that I had no clue what was in store.

Id known Justine and Alvin for the past two years. In that time one could say that we were bestest

of friends. They were always there for me when something went catastrophically awry. Calls at two in the

morning no matter what the problem was, meeting at the Pompton Queen because someone needed a

milkshake. I knew that I could count on them for anything even if I was abandoning them to continue my

dreams and ambitions for my education of music.

After the hugs, pictures and final goodbyes, I was finally on my way. The next step was to pick up

my co-piolet and make the five-hundred fifty-seven, six state trek to my new home through New Jersey,

Pennsylvania, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, and finally North Carolina. I finally got to my mothers and

picked her up. Since she was staying with my grandmother I said my final goodbyes to her and got the

same Dont do anything stupid talk that I had gotten no more than an hour before. With the sound of

the dead bolt behind us, my mother and I made our way to the car joking we would make excellent time

because what could go wrong.

Those infamous words. Like viper venom shooting through my speech. I should always know

better than to joke. From past experience, anytime those utter words were murmured in my family I knew

that something was bound to come up. Just like the superstition of chanting the phrase Beetle Juice,

three times, my family knew better to joke about anything going wrong. Thats what officially ruined many

vacations or trips prior. I knew it was already too late as we joked, knowing the inevitable had already

been done.

Unlock the car. Check. Enter the car. Check. Turn on car. Check. Tire warning light. Check. Full take

of gas. Freeze. I exclaimed as I noticed the now blinking tire lite on my dashboard. I look at my mother

and exclaim sarcastically: What could go wrong. Already a delay in our trip. We both shrugged it off and

went to our local car dealership to take care of the problem. After two and a half hours of sitting in the

dealership, we were greeted with the news of what went wrong. In the two point six miles from my home

to my mothers, I had hit a nail.

Like a whole in the head I needed a nail in that tire. Luckily since I bought my car through that

dealership, they had my tire in stock. I was grateful but paranoid because we had lost two and a half hours

that could have put us well into Pennsylvania. But I stopped and thought; if I didnt stop, how long would

I have been on the side of the road. I had to balance the two and realize that safety was more important

that leaving the state and getting a head start. In this case, What could go wrong was seemingly

beneficial.

After getting everything squared away with our could go wrong, we were on our way. Finally!

My mother took the first drive. Since it was going to be a long ride we decided we would switch off driving

so neither of us would become fatigued. The first leg of the trip was no problem for my mother or I.

Through a job I had, I knew the stretch of Highway 81 we were on like the back of my hand. Except for the

freckle I noticed last week. It was one-hundred and fifty-three miles from start to first stop. What I liked

to refer to the Potty Exit. Exit 80 crept up and we pulled off to rest and switch drivers.

I tell you, theres nothing like a clean rest stop bathroom. But I have to commend the folks at the

Exon station just off exit 80 on Rt. 81. Like clockwork they clean their bathrooms every half hour. Always

fresh and always welcoming of any traveler. Even when I worked with my job, we would always stop there

because of the hospitality and cleanliness. Its those two things that make me go back every time Im in

the area. Before leaving though I would always buy a two dollar scratch off ticket just to say I was there.

Like many previous occasions, I won my two dollars off, said my goodbyes to the woman who had been

there every time I would come in and took my turn driving.

The open road of the back half of Pennsylvania into Maryland and into the short stretch of West

Virginia to get to Virginia was my favorite. Why? Because Id done it before for work and didnt mind all

the trucks. I got along nicely with the truckers. I was taught: If youre nice to them, theyre nice to you.

Boy was that true. Open road. And after another one-hundred and twenty miles we were in Virginia.

There are two thing everyone should know about driving in Virginia on the 81 south corridor.

Those are that it is a beautiful ride to view the Shenandoah Valley Mountains. The other is that it is the

most infuriating one-hundred seventy-seven miles of land to travel. Its just you, the mountains, the roads,

and Virginia State Police pulling everyone over whos not from their lovely state. Luckily we knew how to

avoid them with the speedometer set at seventy-three. It would infuriate them because we would always

maintain speed and do nothing wrong. Luckily my mother drove the stretch to Roanoke and I played

everyones favorite game, Find the Hiding Police Car.

My mother is always the real MVD of the trip. Shes the Most Valuable Driver. She always handles

the Virginia corridor with little to no stress. I would doze off occasionally only to be reminded I had to stay

up so she could stay up. She would remind my snores of this with the simple pass over of the rumble strip.

She was tired as we pulled off the last exit in Roanoke, Virginia. But we knew that we would be rewarded

by something to eat. We were both tired of the ShopRite Waffle Pretzels, Planters Peanuts, and Aquafina

Water. As we got to the bottom of the exit, we both sighed in unison, as we normally did, to find that the

light again was always red.

That last exit in Roanoke, Virginia meant two things to my mother and me every time we got to

the red traffic light which always seemed to meet us. Those two things were victory or defeat. Victory was

going to Panera Bread Company and then continuing on our journey. Defeat was calling it a day after

eating at Panera and renting a hotel room at the Sleep Inn on the hill. Nine times out of ten, we keep

going. And this journey was turning into that.

We walked in to the Panera and were greeted by the same two things that greeted us on every

other visit we had ever made. The sweet smells of the bakery, and the moldy interior of the Panera Bread

in Roanoke, Virginia. My mother and I always got the same things. Half sandwich, Soup, and a drink. My

mother ordered her BLT and Chicken Soup and I ordered my Grilled Cheese and Mac and cheese; an order

that was a staple of our trip to Roanoke. Without saying a word, I looked at my mother who told me in a

scolded voice: Dont think it. But it was too late. I thought those viperous words in my head and I knew

it was too late. Only time would tell what would happen.

As we exited Panera, it was my turn to drive. One-hundred and four miles from that spot in the

parking lot to High Point, North Carolina. It was a piece of cake. A two hour ride that I knew I could make

in an hour and a half on the right day and right condition. We got in the car, and we were on our way.

I always miss leaving Roanoke. I dont know why, really. I guess its because my mother and I

would always ewe and ah at this quiet little town nestled into the side of a mountain. My mother and I

are very simple people. So there was always discussion of mother and son living in a quiet little nestled

town. That of course when she is older and needs help with living, and I married with children to go and

visit. Leaving those thoughts behind driving into the hills of southern Virginia, I focus knowing that my

goal is just a drop in the bucket away.

As we drive my mother falls asleep. This is no problem as I know everything is fine. I ask to myself

and cringe afterward. What could go wrong now!? Well, sure as those words are a curse to those who

speak it internally or externally in our family, something was headed down the pike. Sure enough, lunch

was headed down the pike. We had to stop as I came down with food poisoning.

As many a time weve taken the trip and being told to get something else, I cant believe that my

tradition meal mocked me. Food poisoning. Of all things, really? Ive never gotten sick from food

poisoning. Well I guess there is a first for everything. My mother took over driving my shift, I could sense

the proverbial I told you so coming on. And without hesitation it came. At least it gave me a chance to

actually see all the land I had been missing.

It was beautiful! The rolling hills and the welcome sign to North Carolina that when I would pass

would do a little dance in my chair every time. Even though I only went to school in North Carolina, there

was something home about it. We finished our drive in quiet but with us both knowing I was home.

Getting out of the car, my mother came around the car, hugged me and looked me in the eyes. She leaned

in to hug me again and whispered in my ear this time: Dont do anything stupid. Rolling my eyes and

knowing that I was where I needed to be, I smiled in return and responded with What could go wrong?