Finding Love on the Interstate

My thanks to commenters on previous stories. I appreciate those insightful remarks and have incorporated many of those, hopefully improving this tale. This story is a variant of my trucker themes. As to subject content, it contains references to consensual adult sex and fantasy forced acts. It is about a teenage graduate going out into the world and finding decision-making a difficult process as she grows up.

Kenjisato, a keen-eyed volunteer editor, provided grammar support for this story--my thanks for his astute corrections. I wholeheartedly recommend his work to anyone needing assistance. He is terrific, attentive to details, and quickly provides feedback. Since his editing, I have 'tinkered' with this story. Consequently, you may find errors. I own those -- full stop.

Laken Ann Bly's journey sprang from an impulsive decision to buy time while she found a cure for her indecisiveness. Some of her experiences were harrowing, and some were character-building. On that arduous Interstate journey, she met numerous sojourners. Some were as gentle as sheep, while others were evil incarnate.

"Hey, Laken -- what's shakin'?" Josh asked as he swung open their shared locker.

Good-naturedly, Laken met her locker partner's smile as she peered into Josh's emerald green eyes. She responded to his tried-and-true greeting for years with, "Hey, Josh. It's the usual -- silly finals stuff, you know."

"Same," he answered, "Hey, I got a letter back -- gonna be a Tarheel."

"Cool," she tried to keep her teasing upbeat, "Chapel Hill, University ofNorth Carolina. So, you turned Yankee, huh?"

"Not that damn fer north from South Carolina, Laken. They still speak Southern," he grinned. "You hear back yet?"

"Nah. Nothin'," she answered, shoving her textbooks into her cubby with a frown. She wasn't exactly lying. She hadn't heard back; that part was true ... because she never sent an application.

Josh studied that sweet face, noting the frown. "You'll get accepted, Laken. So, you worried? You shouldn't be -- you're smart. Smarter than most -- prettier too."

The last, he added, while turning away. He was embarrassed for adding that previous remark to his conversation. It was the first time he'd commented on her looks in four years. Smitten, or unrequited love, some would have said. It was natural, though. He'd spent the previous four years with Laken in classes and side-by-side as locker partners. She was his dream girl -- smart, kind, and caring. Being damn pretty didn't hurt his feelings about her, either.

During high school, Laken experienced a butterfly-like transformation as her body emerged from its chrysalis and morphed into a beautifully sculpted work of art. Imperceptibly, Laken Ann's once chubby, pre-pubescent features molted into soft, feminine curves. Imperceptibly, her baby-faced look changed as she reached her senior year, with her high cheekbones becoming more prominent on that always-smiling face.

All those girl-to-womanhood changes accentuated her natural wavy blonde hair, which she let grow long and reach the small of her back. With perfect posture and a radiating glow, her enticing ponytail swayed and swished as she glided through the crowds of students down the hallways on her way to classes. Her athletically-toned butt moved sexily with every step, it wasn't that blatant practiced walk to get noticed.

Although Ms. Bly shed her braces and had taken to wearing contacts by senior year, her shyness and indecisive nature remained just the same as always. Many girls envied the eighteen-year-old's transformative, stunning looks. However, her reserved nature kept Laken in the shadows and out of the high school's social limelight. It precluded Laken Ann from achieving wolf-whistle notoriety. Though friendly, Laken Ann Bly remained independent, aloof, and fleeting in the eyes of her peers. She was the girl you smiled at, not leered at, as you passed her by in the hallway, like a girl-next-door relationship.

You bloom and begin to see a path forward in high school as you finish all those tests and late papers you must turn in. For Laken Ann, twelfth grade was coming to an end, yet she still had a long way to go.

The night before, procrastination, or indecisiveness, caused her to burn the midnight oil with sleep-laden eyes, fatigue, and a ream of wadded-up paper building skyward on the corner of her desk. She typed away and grew frustrated when the thoughts were less than coherent, ripping the pages out of the typewriter platen with annoyance. The loud whirl of the platen almost sounded angry as she seized the paper and pulled, then frustrated, crumpled it.

Eventually, in resignation, as tiredness overcame her, she stopped crumpling and just chucked the crappy ones in the basket, sipped another RC Cola, and dropped another NoDoz. Wearily, she pushed onward toward dawn, pounding keys, having given up on making the theme flow and ... just nailing the last term paper with the ending sentence, 'Steinbeck and his beloved Charley became an insightful tale of Americana writing that made him a most notable author.'

She was beyond concerned or caring that the last dubious line might be misinterpreted as -- Charley, the dog, became an author. Her eagle-eyed teacher would jump on that and circle it with that damn red pen. The ambiguity over the poodle no longer mattered as fatigue overtook her. Laken crashed onto the desk, her arms folded and her head upon them.

Her mom shook her awake at six in the morning. Groggily, Laken lifted her weary head and tried to focus those beautiful blue eyes toward her mom's beaming smile.

"God, Laken Ann, you look ... like ... well, a filly rode hard and put away wet. Make sure you change your clothes before you go to school! But, honey, I see you finished that paper! Good luck with that. I see you're making headway. Now, isn't it time to figure out where you're going to school in the fall?" Her mom encouragingly tried to put a positive spin on the situation, though she failed.

"Too tired to think about it, Mama," she sleepily answered with a prolonged un-lady-like yawn.

Yes, autumn loomed, but it was still far down on Laken's horizon. And no, Laken Ann Bly was nowhere close to making such a decision.

The Bly parents had those antsy moments. It was probably compounded by the letter from the counselor they received six months ago. It was one of those blatant condescending form letters. Laken had found it half hidden between the telephone book and the church's directory. It sparked a frank family conversation when she confronted them about it.

It was the usual high school's attempt at parent contact. It began innocuously enough. Then, went into detail with her counselor's expert opinion.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. George Bly:

Laken Ann is a bright, yet somewhat insecure young lady not yet ready to step out into the world alone. She isn't sure what life holds for her after graduation. So, Laken Ann hadn't made any plans for college or even a job, for that matter! I strongly encourage you both to help foster her independence and decision-making. According to our conversations, I see her as a very coddled girl at home. I strongly urge you to nudge her with 'got-to-make-a-decision' conversations. Encourage her, please, to work on overcoming her complacency and indecisiveness. She's bright with lots of potential.'

Since that letter arrived, her life has been hellish with lots of 'got-to-make-a-decision' types of conversations.

"I don't remember telling Sister Prudence anything about me that would make her think I was being coddled," she sputtered in conversation with her parents, "I think she got me mixed up with one of the other sixty-nine girls in my about-to-graduate class."

"Honey," her mom responded, "we know you're not spoiled. We ... don't baby you that way. Of course, you're not coddled. It's just that ... you don't seem to have a rudder or oars in the ocean to help you steer yourself across the horizon of life. You know? Laken Ann, you've got to start deciding what you want to do with your life, honey."

Her Dad nodded in agreement. He had been a sailor and understood the rudder in the ocean analogy. Without a rudder, a ship had no way to navigate the perils of the sea, just like navigating life without goals or a vision of where a woman, a young woman, would end up in life without a plan or path forward.

Laken's friends all saw their paths, so they said. It looked like they did, she figured. Guessed they did; everywhere she turned at school, it was, "I got accepted!" or "I'm enrolled in that new teacher education program. That's so hot; they are paying for my tuition."

There were other conversations, of course. Those carried as whispers in the locker room or study hall, "Sue Ann is PG! It's Allan's baby!" or "Johnny proposed, finally! We're getting married next month after he gets a job at the furniture factory."

Her parents became pushy parents. Even her BFF (best friend forever), too, leaned on her to make up her mind. She felt the pressure building and knew she needed more time to make decisions, or there had to be a different route to her destiny in life.

That fateful morning, Laken Ann gathered her things for school after her favorite breakfast: toast with peanut butter and jelly downed with cold chocolate milk. Putting a staple in the last report, she stopped to linger over it. It was a quick-read book her Grandpa recommended -- about a guy with his poodle, Charley,Travels with Charley: In Search of America by John Steinbeck. Steinbeck took off from Maine on a journey across America all the way to his hometown, Monterey, California. It covered his experiences in meeting all kinds of folks, including truckers.

She mused about that as she rushed out and stood waiting at the bus stop. 'Steinbeck seemed lost along the way to the West Coast, a bit like me,' Laken Ann thought.

That morning, she was oblivious to how significant Steinbeck's book would become in her life's journey. It was to become a cross-country adventure leading to numerous life lessons: some harrowing and some character-building. Along the Interstate, Destiny brought a myriad of people into her path. Like Steinbeck, Laken Ann would meet people as gentle as sheep and others with fangs like wolves. A few she met along the way ... shouldn't have been born!

Laken and her grandfather often had private conversations on the front porch swing at Grandpa Bly's home. The swing was a safe space where Laken could ask daring questions and receive honest answers from someone, whom she trusted not to share her secrets. Four days before graduation, Laken showed up on his porch after school, tired and confused after pulling an all-nighter. Armed with numerous unanswered questions weighing on her mind, she sat on the swing beside him.

"Grandpa," Laken asked the scruffy bearded oldster, "am I coddled or indecisive?"

As Grandpa Bly and his granddaughter sat together on the porch swing, he noticed her serious expression. He knew about her counselor's letter and understood why she was seeking answers. He felt it his responsibility to meet her expectations. Unlike his granddaughter, he had clearly envisioned a dream come true: building a home and securing a future for his family. He had built his modest home through years of saving, hard work, and determination. Piece by piece, he had crafted it with sweat and perseverance until it became a home he could proudly call his own.

However, as his granddaughter approached graduation, she faced critical decisions that needed making -- she couldn't or wouldn't make those. Grandpa Bly knew his response might not be what she wanted to hear, but he couldn't let her down. He spoke with care, hoping to ease the impact and save her from heartache.

"Laken, honey, times are very different these days," he quietly began. "In my younger days, like your age, we didn't have as many choices as you do, nor as many decisions to make as you have. Young folks followed in their parent's footsteps, usually, or close relatives' footsteps at best. A few visionaries wandered off to become lawyers, doctors, or whatnot -- maybe even a damned politician."

Laken chuckled, not wanting to wander down Grandpa's damned politician's rabbit hole. She smirked, "Not thinkin' about politics, Grandpa, that's for damned sure."

"Smart girl, sugar," he chuckled in reply. "I don't see you going to the Navy like your dad did. As for your mom's role, as cute as you are, you got plenty of time to find a guy to settle down and have a family. Plenty of time ..."

"Well, don't go avoiding me, Grandpa," she coaxed, taking his hand, bringing his focus on her Lake Placid azure-sparkling eyes as she spoke. "Tell me the truth."

"Laken, just because you have not formulated what you want to do with your life yet doesn't mean you are indecisive. Rome wasn't built in a day, you know. Don't let anyone force you into a decision you aren't ready to make ... At least make that a decision you can do today, sweetie," he sighed; the irony of his words hurt him. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a special gift from one generation to another. It should have gone to her father by rights, but Grandpa felt it should go to a troubled soul needing reassurance at this nexus.

"Look, Laken Ann, this here is my lucky silver dollar! I've watched over it my whole life! My grandpa gave it to me long ago. So, I'm giving it to you now. Think of it as an early graduation present. Sometimes, you need help or a sign from Fate about which way to go. On occasion, I've used this coin to help with that. Some decisions need a little push or a leap of fate to make. So, watch over it, pumpkin! It's going to be lucky for you as well. Please keep it safe! It was minted in 1865. They used Anna Williams' likeness for Lady Liberty's face. Look her up! Maybe you'll get some inspiration," he grinned, holding up the pristine coin and placing it in her delicate hand.

"1865, Grandpa?" she smiled as her mind whirled. "It's 1969 now, that's like ... one hundred and four years ago! No wonder it looks so ... elegant."

"Old -- yes darling, I know what you're thinking, but it's not worn out. There are lots of decisions still to be made with this lucky silver dollar."

Laken Ann returned his smile, knowing from numerous such sessions he could read her thoughts. She was an open book. It put a small dimple on her left cheek and almost seemed to align those light freckles that shimmered upon those high cheekbones. Her freckles, sprinkled up and down her arms and legs like tiny orange starbursts, were more prominent now that summer was here.

"Thanks, Grandpa!" Laken Ann said, with a lingering hug and a kiss on his scruffy, unshaven cheek. "I'll put it away for safekeeping!"

"Graduation is Friday, Grandpa! You're coming, right!" she asserted, with a wider grin, as she let go of him and stepped back.

"Alligators couldn't keep me away, Laken Ann," he chuckled with delight.

"Thanks, Gramps. Gotta go! Told Tiffany I'd meet her before I head home."

"Careful, out there, sweetie, wolves be prowling, you know?" he chuckled, as she grinned and waved goodbye.

"Come to community college with me, Laken!" Tiffany cajoled. "You can still enroll! There's time. Come on! It'll be fun! It's not like regular college--not that hard--kinda like high school. Then you can make up your mind when your 'rents settle down. Come on, BFF, get a move on! You and me can get us an apartment! Meet us, some guys! Ya know! Let's have some s-e-x! Just get ourselves drunk, grab us a couple of hunks, and ... mate like rabbits!" Tiffany giggled at her last sassy, high-school-ish remark.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, BFF, but I don't know. I'll think about it, okay?" Laken Ann sighed, taking in the community college application her BFF just handed her.

"Deal, but don't put it off. Gotta get going, or life will pass you by, girl," Tiffany nodded, giving her a hug.

Laken knew where the application would go -- on the pile with the other unfilled-out applications on her bookcase. It didn't feel right to put effort into something she wasn't sure she wanted. Tiffany had plans and a straightforward vision -- get the sex experience everyone raved about, complete a two-year dental program, marry a doctor, and live happily ever after. Things not on Laken's horizon at the moment.

Yes, Laken Ann remained indecisive. She felt, almost sure, she didn't need another 'high school experience' and as for getting drunk with some hunks ... It wasn't so damn easy to 'get a move on' when you don't know which way you want to move. The s-e-x itch was growing more demanding, as all the girls she knew seemed to be 'getting' some of it.

The day after graduation, Laken found herself at a crossroads, both metaphorically and literally. Her friends had already picked their paths, outlining clear routes to college, the military, or jobs in their hometown, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. But for Laken, decisions had always been a daunting task.

In a moment of angst, Laken Ann's mind latched onto an errant thought. Alone in the house, she pondered, 'Why must I make the decisions? Fate should be deciding this for me!'

Dinner that night brought the situation to a head as her father commented over dessert, "Laken Ann, honey, you are eighteen, a graduate, and need to make some decisions about what's going to happen in your life. If you're not going to college, you should, at least, start looking for a job. At some point in your life, you will be out on your own, you know."

"George, let's not get hasty; after all, she just graduated yesterday," her mother replied.

"It's okay, Mom -- Dad's right. I should be making some decisions. I will -- soon."

Exhausted, Laken turned in and dozed off quickly. Lying in bed, that conversation replayed in her head. Over and over until an illuminating flash of inspiration came at midnight. Staring at Destiny's road sign, its arrows pointing towards the unknown, Laken felt the weight of indecision crushing her. She was lost in thought until she rememberedTravels with Charley by John Steinbeck. In one of those magical movie moments, she suddenly stood beside Steinbeck while petting Charley. Affectionately, Charley rubbed his nose against her leg as she watched Steinbeck load up Rocinante, his old van, in preparation for their sojourn across America.

"I do not know my own country, Laken. How crazy is that? One should know more about one's country to learn more about oneself, right?" Steinbeck said, as Charley jumped on board.

Laken looked at John and replied, "I ... get that! You're right. I'm just like you ... I don't even know myself or what I want to do in life either." Her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids in the REM stages of sleep.

John Steinbeck turned, smiled, and opened the passenger-side door in that florid dream state. He beckoned at Laken, an invitation. An invitation to join him and Charley on a pathway he had charted to become acquainted with an America he did not know. As she reached out to take Steinbeck's hand ...