Just Me at the KFC by Melanie White True Story Contest contest entry |
I am thirsty. I have been thirsty for many, many miles. I can taste how good a cool drink of water would be right now. I think of how much I could drink as I swallow some spit that doesn’t satisfy the dryness in my mouth. I look out the window. It is dark and water droplets are chasing each other down the glass. Normally I would watch them race and try to predict which one would reach the bottom first, but now all I can think is that I would like to lick the drops off the glass and feel the wetness on my tongue. The bus begins to slow, and I know we are coming into the town of Gisborne. I put on my raincoat and wait on the other passengers ahead of me. When it is my turn, I descend the steps. I watch as the other passengers are greeted by friends and family who are expecting them and happy to see them. I don’t feel the usual pang of regret that nobody is waiting for me. I am getting used to it. My main concern is finding my backpack. I see it sprawled out on the damp sidewalk, waiting for me. I resent the driver for putting it there and hope that water hasn’t soaked the clothes inside it. I pick up the load and struggle to get both hands through the straps. It is almost too much for me and covers most of my back. I realize that I look like a turtle with such a big backpack. I consider asking the bus driver for directions to the youth hostel, but he looks busy. So instead I consult my map under the station light, and then I strike out on my own. At the first street I come to it is too dark to read the sign. I miss the street lights that are so common back home. I walk on. The mist turns into a steady drizzle, and I find it impossible to put my hood up. It is trapped beneath my backpack. I stick my tongue out to try to catch some drops but with no luck. After walking several blocks, I realize I have no idea where I am or which way to go. But still I walk on. I am beginning to get worried that I will not find the hostel and will have no place to sleep tonight. At the next block, I peer both ways to see if there might be some kind of clue that will help me in my search. And lo and behold, there like a beacon burning bright, is a Kentucky Fried Chicken in the distance with its candy stripes beckoning me. I walk toward the light. I am sure someone there can give me directions. As I enter, the warmth and the smell of fried chicken remind me of home. Since I am so thirsty, I figure I can kill two birds with one stone, so I order some juice because I don’t have enough money for any chicken. The girl at the counter says to me, “Just juice?” “Just juice.,” I reply. We chuckle since “Just Juice” is also the brand name for the juice I just bought. “Well, not really. I do need something else. I also need to know if you can tell me how to get to the youth hostel on Cook Street.” I show her my map, and she points out the way. It seems complicated and a long way from the KFC. I think of how my boyfriend back home would laugh if he knew I was trying to find my way by reading a map. But I don’t see that I have any other choice, so I decide to head out. As I am leaving, the girl behind the counter says to me, “Your shoelace is untied.” I look down and see that I better take care of it before I go. So I bend over to put my juice down so I can tie my shoe, and my backpack knocks me over. I know I must look like a helpless turtle on its back as my backpack is so heavy I can’t get up. A couple who have just come in feel sorry for me and help me get the backpack off so I can get up. “Where you headed?” the man asks. “The youth hostel on Cook Street,” I reply. “We’re headed that way if you want a lift.” The woman volunteers. Relieved I say, “Thank you very much. I would really appreciate it.” So I wait for them to get their chicken and then venture out to their car with them. The man carries my backpack for me. As I get in the back seat, two poodles climb all over me, but I figure it sure beats walking on a rainy night. And as we pull away from the KFC, I know this is as close to home as I’m going to get for a long time.
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Melanie White
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