herself together, packed her luggage for several days, and headed to TriCity in her car.
TriCity was a point on the map where the counties of Allwin, Dorchester , and St. Thomas all touched. It grew from a crossroad stop where farmers traded and sold goods into a metropolitan city supporting the work force for the entire area.
Carrie ’s trip was boring, tiring, and unending. She found herself measuring her progress by the number of rest stops she passed. Every forty to fifty miles, the road offered services for the traveler. Some were full-service stops including restaurants and repair garages; others offered fast food and self-service gas. After wasting time at two rest stops and drinking more coffee than she cared to measure, Carrie realized she had to concentrate on her driving in order to make the church service.
She zipped back onto the expressway and pressed her foot down on the gas until she achieved the speed limit and even a little more. She noticed another car followed her onto the expressway from the rest stop and was now keeping pace with her. When she passed a car, this car passed with her and then returned to a position behind her. Carrie didn’t like someone pacing her, so she decided to stay in her lane and slow down. Traffic was light, and the car had plenty of room to speed on its way. Finally, when no other cars were in sight, the car made a move to pass.
When the car drew alongside, Carrie couldn’t help but look over. She could discern there were two men in the front seat, but saw little else since the windows were heavily tinted. Instead of passing, the car started to encroach into her lane. She slowed down and moved more to the right, but the car moved with her.
Carrie was suddenly frightened. What was this car doing? When she sped up, the car sped up. When she slowed down, it did the same and then tried to move into her lane. Carrie didn’t know what to do. The car once again moved alongside her car and was edging closer and closer when , out of nowhere, a deep, resounding blast of a truck horn broke the silence. Carrie jumped in her seat, and the menacing car cut sharply in front of her and sped ahead. As Carrie moved to the right to avoid being hit, her tires caught the edge of the shoulder, and she momentarily lost control. Her car careened off the road and ran along the grass, barely missing a ditch before she was able to get it under control and come to a halt. The trucker who honked his horn pulled his truck off the highway and ran back to assist her.
He waited until she opened the window before yelling, “Lady, you okay?”
“Yes, I thhinnk so,” she stuttered.
“What the heck was going on? Did you know that other car?”
“No, never saw it before. I guess it was just someone having a little sport.”
“Well, playing games on the highway is a dangerous…” The driver didn’t finish his sentence as a state trooper car with flashing lights pulled up behind them.
By the time Carrie convinced the trooper and the truck driver she was fine and ready to continue her journey, she realized she would never make the church service on time. She decided to go straight to the cemetery.
4
Woodhaven was the largest and oldest cemetery in TriCity and occupied the north, south, and east corners of a major intersection. The Faraday plot was in North Woodhaven, which was the most desirable location because of a large pond located near the center of the property. The pond was fed by a creek, and the sound of the babbling water provided a serenity that the other two locations didn’t offer.
Carrie knew the section well because she, Jamie, and their friends spent many a cold winter’s night skating on the pond. One night while skating, Jamie showed Carrie the family burial plots. He stretched out on the ground in front of a family tombstone.
“Well, what do you think? How do I look? Peaceful?”
“Jamie, get up from there! You’re going to catch cold.”
“Regardless of what the
TriCity was a point on the map where the counties of Allwin, Dorchester , and St. Thomas all touched. It grew from a crossroad stop where farmers traded and sold goods into a metropolitan city supporting the work force for the entire area.
Carrie ’s trip was boring, tiring, and unending. She found herself measuring her progress by the number of rest stops she passed. Every forty to fifty miles, the road offered services for the traveler. Some were full-service stops including restaurants and repair garages; others offered fast food and self-service gas. After wasting time at two rest stops and drinking more coffee than she cared to measure, Carrie realized she had to concentrate on her driving in order to make the church service.
She zipped back onto the expressway and pressed her foot down on the gas until she achieved the speed limit and even a little more. She noticed another car followed her onto the expressway from the rest stop and was now keeping pace with her. When she passed a car, this car passed with her and then returned to a position behind her. Carrie didn’t like someone pacing her, so she decided to stay in her lane and slow down. Traffic was light, and the car had plenty of room to speed on its way. Finally, when no other cars were in sight, the car made a move to pass.
When the car drew alongside, Carrie couldn’t help but look over. She could discern there were two men in the front seat, but saw little else since the windows were heavily tinted. Instead of passing, the car started to encroach into her lane. She slowed down and moved more to the right, but the car moved with her.
Carrie was suddenly frightened. What was this car doing? When she sped up, the car sped up. When she slowed down, it did the same and then tried to move into her lane. Carrie didn’t know what to do. The car once again moved alongside her car and was edging closer and closer when , out of nowhere, a deep, resounding blast of a truck horn broke the silence. Carrie jumped in her seat, and the menacing car cut sharply in front of her and sped ahead. As Carrie moved to the right to avoid being hit, her tires caught the edge of the shoulder, and she momentarily lost control. Her car careened off the road and ran along the grass, barely missing a ditch before she was able to get it under control and come to a halt. The trucker who honked his horn pulled his truck off the highway and ran back to assist her.
He waited until she opened the window before yelling, “Lady, you okay?”
“Yes, I thhinnk so,” she stuttered.
“What the heck was going on? Did you know that other car?”
“No, never saw it before. I guess it was just someone having a little sport.”
“Well, playing games on the highway is a dangerous…” The driver didn’t finish his sentence as a state trooper car with flashing lights pulled up behind them.
By the time Carrie convinced the trooper and the truck driver she was fine and ready to continue her journey, she realized she would never make the church service on time. She decided to go straight to the cemetery.
4
Woodhaven was the largest and oldest cemetery in TriCity and occupied the north, south, and east corners of a major intersection. The Faraday plot was in North Woodhaven, which was the most desirable location because of a large pond located near the center of the property. The pond was fed by a creek, and the sound of the babbling water provided a serenity that the other two locations didn’t offer.
Carrie knew the section well because she, Jamie, and their friends spent many a cold winter’s night skating on the pond. One night while skating, Jamie showed Carrie the family burial plots. He stretched out on the ground in front of a family tombstone.
“Well, what do you think? How do I look? Peaceful?”
“Jamie, get up from there! You’re going to catch cold.”
“Regardless of what the
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