Carolyn Courtney Lauman [Lauman - Against Their Will

U S Interstate 95 runs from Maines border with Canada to Miami, Florida, passing through more US states than any other interstate.

Completion of its bypass east of Fayetteville, North Carolina, took place in 1983. Prior to that, as was the case in late 1979, Business 95 ran through a densely populated area of Fayetteville. Lined with service stations, fast food franchises, pawn shops, and roadside bars, this urban thoroughfare both welcomed and repelled travelers heading north and south.

If you want to change the world, start with the next person

who comes to you in need.

B. D. Schiers

T he engine of the aging yellow Subaru sputtered a bit, shimmying the steering wheel in Isabellas hands. What the hell! she exclaimed, pressing hard on the brake pedal.

Looking up from her fashion magazine, Maria sighed and said, Dont tell me were out of gas.

Not according to the gauge, but wed better fill up, just in case.

Signaling her move into the turning lane, Isabella cut in front of a jacked-up pickup. The bearded driver honked angrily, flashing his middle finger.

Screw him, Maria said as Isabella pulled into a brightly lit Hess station. Looking around, she asked, Where are we, anyway?

Some town in North Carolina. Fayetteville, I think, Isabella replied.

Squirming in her seat, Maria drawled, Otherwise known as Hicksville. Do yall think the johns clean here?

Looking askance at her sister, Izzy said, Only one way to find out. Go ahead while I pump.

Maria made her way into a grimy, glass-fronted office where a mess of a man sat behind a battered metal desk overflowing with NASCAR and girlie magazines. His scraggly, yellowed mustache accented a mouth with few remaining teeth, and his eyes were red-rimmed and rheumy. More hair sprouted from his nose and ears than his scalp, and what little there was of that was an oily shade of gray.

Well, hello there, missy, he said, leering at Maria. What can I hep you with?

Is the restroom unlocked? she asked, trying her darnedest to avoid looking at the mans teeth or the centerfold of a naked woman on the desk in front of him.

Naw, but heres the key, he answered, reaching back to grab a ring from a hook on the wall. Ladies is the second door round to the side. Be sure to bring that back when yer done.

Yes, sir, thanks, Maria assured him. Turning, she collided with Izzy, who was making her way into the office.

Done already? Maria asked.

Yeah, only took a few gallons. Dont know why it was acting up, but we should be good to go.

The girls took turns using the single-stall bathroom, which wasnt terribly dirty after all, although a disgusting cockroach had been desperately trying to extricate itself from the toilet bowl until Maria flushed it away. After they returned the key to the office, the old man called out to them, Stop on back, ya hear?

On the second try, the ignition caught, and with sighs of relief, the sisters pulled back onto the crowded four-lane road. Daylight was quickly fading, and colorful Christmas lights could be seen adorning buildings and streetlights on both sides of the road. Everyone in Fayetteville seemed in a hurry to get somewhere on this late winter afternoon, and Izzy swore under her breath when a low-riding El Camino braked abruptly in front of them.

With red lights stopping traffic at just about every intersection, it was slowgoing as the girls made their way south. Braking at what appeared to be the last crossroad heading out of town, the Subaru once again coughed and jerked disconcertingly.

Shit! cried Izzy, banging her fist on the steering wheel. This is ridiculous!

Whats wrong with it?

How do I know? Izzy answered angrily. Were gonna have to pull over again.

Where? Maria asked, peering nervously out the window. The gas stations are all behind us.

There, Izzy said, pointing to the dirt parking lot in front of a low, red-brick building that had seen better days. The glass front door, framed by a portico of rotting wooden columns that bowed haphazardly, beckoned passers-by with a flickering neon Budweiser sign.

Maria sighed heavily as Izzy steered the dying car to a stop beside a stand of unsold Christmas trees. A hand-lettered sign, originally reading All Christmas Trees $59, had been corrected with red paint to read AllChristmas Trees $19. The next stop for the remaining few would be the mulch pile.

What are we gonna do now? Maria asked, sounding a bit panicked.

I dont know. Izzy shrugged, watching the neon beer sign flash on and off. Lets go in and see if theres a phone we can use.

This sucks! Well never make it to Florida tonight, Maria complained. First we drove twice around DC, and now this.