SGFW - A Long Ways from Iowa

SGFW Dialogue Assignment

A Long Ways from Iowa

Clayton Tjernagel turned to his wife and said, “Bob and Ruthie looked good. The girl is a handful though.”

“Honey, our granddaughter is just energetic,” said Helen. “She’s perfectly normal.” With a quick darting glance at the man behind the steering wheel she caught slight disapproval in his ruddy countenance. She knew he did not like being corrected.

“I loved Oregon,” she said.

“I could take it or leave it,” said Clayton.

“Oh come on, admit it Clayton,” said Helen. “It’s a beautiful place. Maybe we should think about moving there when we retire.”

“Don’t even think it,” said Clayton. “Polk County is where I was born and it’s where I’m going to die.”

“Yes, Clayton.”

“Here’s the exit for Dunsmuir,” he said. “It’s 9:15. We should be in time. I’m sure they’ve held our room. This way we should see Shasta tomorrow morning and still get to San Francisco by nightfall.”

“Where’s the town, Clayton? I only see a gas station and a mini-market.”

“I’m not sure doll. Get out the map and see if you can figure out how far it is to town.”

She liked it when he called her doll. She knew her flaming red hair, petite figure and youthful looks were all sources of immense pride to her him. She had heard him brag that friends at church often told him she still looked to be in her thirties.

Her husband by contrast had aged beyond his years. His round face with bulbous nose, full pulpy lips and small beady eyes had transformed him from her once handsome muscle bound farmer to a portly semblance of the man she married. However, Helen knew what a good man resided inside.

She turned on the overhead light and studied their AAA Trip Ticket.

“I can’t tell Clayton,” she said. “Maybe we should pull over and have you look at it. Maybe you can tell.”

“Don’t worry. We’re fine,”he replied.

Helen accepted her husband’s word.

After a time she looked out the caddy’s passenger window. “There’s nothing here, Clayton. There’s just this winding mountain road with rock walls and evergreens on each side. And it goes up and down so much. I don’t like it.”

“Settle down woman,” he said. “If the sign says this way to Dunsmuir, this is the way we are supposed to go.”

She gave him a glance from out of the corners of her eyes. His furrowed brow contradicted his words. She put down the map and clenched her knees.

“I wish there were some other cars on this road,” she said.

“Helen, chill out!,” he said. “There is absolutely nothing wrong.”

This time she looked at him directly. “Then why are you hunched over and concentrating so hard,” she asked.

The black fiber wrapping covering the steering wheel prevented its audible retort as he slapped it with his open hand. “Honey, if you don’t believe me then maybe you should get out and walk back to Eugene.”

“There’s no reason to get cross,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right. This would never happen at home. At least in Iowa you can see for miles and miles.”

“Right now I’m starting to wish we were back home,” she said. She bit her lip and passed the time.

“Look there’s a crossroads coming up,” she said. “Maybe that is a good sign.”

“Yes. A stop sign. A sign of civilization finally,” said Clayton. “Probably just another road going to nowhere, though.”

Helen laughed. Her husband had a way of breaking the moment at the most stressful of times. She loved him.

She relaxed a little now. More time passed. Eventually she began to get worried again.

She wiped the sweat emanating off her scalp and trickling down her forehead before it could cause her mascara to run. “Can we have the air conditioner back on again, Clayton?”

He reached over and turned the plastic dial back to max.

“I think I have good news, doll,” he said. “Those are lights up ahead. We’ve found it. We went the right way after all.”

“Thank God at last,” said Helen. “You’re brilliant Clayton.”

“Nah!” he said. “Just choice midwest beef."