falling off (the wagon): part 4

miraculously, we found a mechanic that would take us.  we had the van towed, puppies inside.  in the cab of the towtruck on I-5 north, i kept looking back worriedly, the van at an angle, the puppies at an angle too.  i couldn't see them, and wondered how it was, their first towtruck ride ever.  so many firsts, every day full of firsts, firsts for them, and firsts for me too.   

we arrived. at a remote gravel lot with an unmarked building in north olympia, the towtruck pulled in.  once at the shop, we couldn't be in the van, neither could the dogs.  we had lots of time to kill.  so we set out with the puppies for a walk on a busy and fast road, what we later found out was the "deadliest highway in kitsap county".  

the road was desolate and dangerous.  nothing for miles.  i was stressed, unnerved by the noise and commotion, longing for the peaceful and slow bend in my road, the road home.   the puppies flinched at each loud motor screaming past.  we passed three crosses, casualties of speed and metal machines.  i felt hopeless.  

soon, we came upon a gas station. with a schwag deli! and a coffee cart!  and outdoor tables!  "hallelujah!  this is an oasis!"  i thought aloud.  we settled comfortably into some chairs.  i bought a round of scratch tickets, for good measure.  

we spent all day there, all damn day, scratching the silvery wax off of paper tickets, figuring it might just be our lucky day after all, if we invested our winnings, or picked just the right penny to scratch with.  we scratched and scratched, until five hours had passed, until we had spent forty dollars on coffee pizza and scratch tickets, until it seemed like our van might just be ready for us.