The rain was coming down sideways. At this point Faye had given up trying to mitigate the damage. Her canvas shoes were submerged in the puddles that lined the highway. By now, she had accepted the downpour and her drenched state with good enough humor. When cars had passed she understood that people would be less charitable to a hitchhiker when their car’s interior was at risk. It had been drizzling then compared to the onslaught that was happening now and the roads were empty leaving her with no one’s pity to appeal to.

An endless stretch of highway lay in front of her while another one stayed behind, giving her a dreadful sense of walking in place. “Good old Oregon.” she thought, “I will not miss you.” Through the cold she could feel the edges of her mouth curl up in a smirk. She was surprised at the genuine sense of achievement she felt for leaving. It was strong enough to offer a little respite from the overwhelming chill.

Faye’s decision to leave had been as impulsive as the one to move to Portland in the first place, but at least this time she could recognize that. She recognized the impulsivity and stood by her choice. With 20 bucks left to her name she had a choice, she could either stick around and panhandle for the price of a bus ticket or hitchhike immediately and have enough money to eat today. And there was no way she was sticking around Portland for another minute. An adventure that had started with her life savings of $2,000 and sheer determination had resulted in less than six full months of bed bug infested room rentals, eviction due shady drug-addicted roommates, and a brief but clarifying stint in homelessness. The last of which culminated the previous evening by being jolted awake by a man groping her. In the moments immediately afterwards she could still feel his rough hands and sickly sweet breath as she doubled over in front of the 711 trying to catch her breath. She had been lucky enough to squirm away and run but in her panic she had abandoned her belongings, all of which had been rifled through and pilfered by the time she returned the next morning. “Fuck it.” she had thought in that moment.“Fuck this place.” She thanked herself for the emergency $20 she always saved in her shoe and decided to get out of this city while she still could, leaving the majority of her belongings strewn on the stoop.

At that point the only people she knew in this world lived back home on the other side of the Washington/Oregon border. Her only option was her grandmother’s trailer which had been exactly what she had been running from in the first place. Back then her father had been long gone and her mother had just been convicted again for meth possession. Her mother would be gone for five years so it was either shack up with her grandmother or try for things on her own. She was smart, she knew it. She could get a job. It couldn’t be worse than what high school had been, she had thought, so why not? She chuckled at her naivety. Knowing that she would have to fight her grandmother's overstuffed Pomeranian for the sofa she accepted the situation with a calm resolve.

The gentle rumble of the rain masked the sound of the car’s engine making her notice it suddenly as it appeared beside her. She was so eager to get the driver’s attention that she dropped her bag in the mud before waving her arms frantically. For a moment, she held her breath, ready to curse as the car passed her but just when it seemed like they had gone on without her they pulled off to the side, only a few dozen feet away. Immediately she grabbed her bag and ran to the passage side. As she approached the car from behind the tinted windows stayed up. She stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do, afraid that any wrong move would result in her abandonment. She started to get spooked, there was a feeling like someone was watching her and closely. Right before she turned away the windows rolled down, the driver still silent. She hesitated for a moment before lowering her head to the driver’s eye line.

She tried to smile. "Hello." she offered meekly "Thank you for stopping."

The driver have no reaction. Several moments passed before a dry voice said “Where are you headed?”

“Pasco, up in Washington? About a three hour drive or...,” she paused,“..a couple days walk, I guess.”

She experienced such a distinct rush of relief and joy the instant that he nodded his head in invitation that her mind came back to this moment right before she died, only a few hours later. Perhaps it was her mind grasping for the last time she felt happy, perhaps she appreciated the irony. Just before she drifted off from the lack of air, his hands unclenching, she remembered that moment of relief when she entered the car. The warmth of the seat heater, the sanctity of being sheltered from the stormy weather and the satisfying feeling like she had just escaped something awful.