I couldn’t help but glancing at the girl next to me every few seconds, to which she seemed blissfully unaware. I wasn’t the type of person who talked to people I didn’t know, let alone pick up hitchhikers on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. But this young woman was so innocent looking, with her big blue eyes and dirty blonde hair in twin French braids that I had to stop my car for her as she flagged me down in the middle of route 322 and asked for a ride because her car broke down. Still, I was concerned I have may have picked up an axe-wielding serial killer. You never know with people these days.
“So what’s your name?” She suddenly burst out, pulling her eyes away from the window to stare at me as I drove. “I feel bad that I didn’t ask you immediately.”
“Oh! Yeah. My name is Judy.” I stammered out.
“Is that short for something?”
“No...”
“Oh. Well, my name is Perri, which is short for Peregrine. Like a falcon. But I’ve never seen a falcon, which is weird.” She paused for a breath and looked at me expectantly.
“That’s an unusual name,” I offered up. Small talk was not my strong suit.
“Really? I don’t think so.” She paused, entranced by something outside the window. After a moment her head whipped back to face me. “So, why are you going to Ohio?”
I am going to live there. I just got my first job in Cleveland.” That had to start up a conversation. I found that people loved talking to me about work lately. As I said it, she seemed to perk up and finally turned away from looking out the window.
“Oh, are you excited? Is it your dream job?” I hesitated, not expected that random question. Normally people asked me what company I was going to work for, or what I would be doing. My knuckles tightening around the leather of the steering wheel as I tried to formulate a response.
“No, it’s just a desk job. But it has good pay, reasonable healthcare plans,” and I continued to rattle off everything I learned from the new hire brochure. It’s the kind of people were impressed with when you talk about your new job.
“So, why are you going?” She interrupted.
“What?”
“If you don’t want to go, why are you going?” She was staring at me with wide, unblinking blue eyes.
“What makes you think I don’t want to go?”
“You just said you weren’t excited about it. I wouldn’t be excited either, I heard Ohio is boring. But that’s why I want to go, to see if it is boring. I bet it is.” She spoke so matter-of-factly I found it rather off-putting.
“Well, I have to go that’s where I got my job.”
“I mean, you could just keep driving.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just drive past the exit for Cleveland. And the exit after that. And the exit after that. And keep driving until you drive right into the Pacific Ocean!” She shouted, flailing her lanky ams a bit. I laughed.
“That’s crazy, they are expecting me in at work on Tuesday. I can’t just keep driving.”
“Why not? You don’t want to go. So don’t. Let’s go where ever you want to go!”
“What, together? Just drive off into the country with a complete stranger? Right that sounds normal.” I laughed again. What a joke. But she wasn’t laughing.
“Sure, I am up for an adventure. And traveling with someone is better then traveling alone. Think of all the things you rather do on Tuesday then sit at a desk in front of a computer.” For a moment I let my mind wander. Hiking through the mountains. Wake-boarding in the middle of a lake. Skydiving. Bungee jumping. All the things I wanted to do this summer. I quickly shook my head.
“No, no, no. That’s too crazy. I have responsibilities. I didn’t go to college for four years so I could give up a good moneymaking opportunity to roam around the country doing whatever I want to do.”
“So basically, you want money over happiness?”
“No, I am...”
“What if money wasn’t an object? What would you do?” The images started flooding into my head again. All the things I would do if money didn’t exist. Scuba diving in the clear waters of the Caribbean. The rush of zip-lining in the snowy Alps. The thrill of climbing the towering trees of the rainforest. Again I fought down the fantasy.
“Money is always an object,” I laughed, “And I am broke.” She immediately dove into the front pocket of her hiking bag, plopping a bag of goldfish and a flashlight on the dash as she hunted for something. Finally she pulled out a beaten-up old wallet. She flicked it open and pulled out something. It was a black Amex card, which I had only seen in movies but knew what it meant. Money. And a lot of it. I nearly stopped the car as she held it up for me to see. Somehow, I had picked up a hitchhiking millionaire.
“What if money wasn’t an object?” She repeated. “Would you drive away from your new job to travel with me?” I sucked in my breath, the new leather of my car stinging my nostrils.
“This is some kind of joke. Am I being punked?”
“I am not kidding.” Her face was deadpan. “Come with me.”
“Why me? You don’t even know me.”
“Because you picked up a hitchhiker and you clearly want to do something more exciting with your life. And because I hate traveling alone.”
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