679 Miles to Home

Bella’s mother used to say they had all the time in the world, yet Bella was rushing against the Integris heart monitor machine and the time left on Apple Maps to see her one last time. Her comforting words felt more like a lie now; as she sped down the dimly lit highway, it felt like all the consistency in her life had vanished. It was no longer the miles between them, from her college town to her hometown, but now the time was racing against her. 

Her mother had been there for her through thick and thin. She was more than a mother; she was a best friend, a listener, and a caretaker. Her mother had helped her through her only high-school break-up with Aiden, who cared more about smoking pot than her, friendship turmoil with the friends she’d had since elementary, and the bittersweet transition to beginning college at Denver University in Colorado. It was that day when the car was packed full, and she was supposed to leave her hometown behind, which was the day she struggled with the most. It had been the quietus of goodbyes and tight hugs, leaving Bella with a feeling of uncertainty. She was stuck between the choice of independence or staying home with her family, but little did she know she’d be right back in 2 months, hoping for a miracle instead of Thanksgiving dinner.

That same summer in July, her mother had just been diagnosed with cancer, leaning into that feeling of uncertainty and unsureness while half of her mind was filled with excitement for a new chapter. The diagnosis was earth-shattering for her, and she almost wanted to move back home and be her mother’s caretaker for once, but her mom wouldn’t let her. Even with her mom’s current health condition, she was pushing her to leave and have fun. “Your life is just beginning, darling; this is your time to shine.” she’d say, smiling softly. 

Throughout her first semester, she tried to understand that it was indeed her time, but all she could think about was how sick her mom must feel and how lonely she might be with her and her brother gone. She could feel their emotional distance growing further, leaving her homesick. But that was all just inside her head until she received the phone call from the hospital. 

 Bella was almost to her mom; she couldn’t wait to hug her and tell her it would all be okay and the cancer would somehow go away on its own. They both knew it wouldn’t, but it was just for the hope of it all, so instead, they talked about dream vacations and her future children.

Bella was focused back into reality by the loud ding from her dashboard; her gas light was on. 

“Great,” Bella muttered as she frantically searched for the nearest gas station in her area. The dash clock said 1:42 a.m., and her recent search pulled up a 1-star gas station, Love’s Country Store. Of course. This is the only option.

Bella drove a few more miles and arrived at Love’s, her tires rubbing against the deteriorated pavement. The pumps had no working lights, and two were out of order, but this would work sixty miles from Oklahoma City, and almost no gas left.  

She turned the key to the left of her black sedan and put her debit card in the chip reader, only for it to say, “Card declined.” The words on the screen ignited tears in her eyes. Will I make it?

“Guess I’ll have to go inside now,” she muttered, stepping out from under the gas pump awning.

Bella’s mother warned her about these types of gas stations, the ones with three gas pumps, litter in front of the store, and only one other car in sight when she was in high school. She felt some sort of shame for going against her wisdom at a time like this, especially when her mom was ill, but she had no other choice. The shattered windows and wood boards helped the door stay shut and welcomed her to Oklahoma like an unwelcome guest at family gatherings. The door weighed 1000 pounds, and It felt like entering a different, blurred, and unwelcoming world.

The fluorescent lights glimmered as she opened the door, and the hot dog warmer was the only sound throughout the building, but the quiet felt calming. The gas station's floor boards were pulling up, leaving trip hazards throughout the building. The floor was stained with what looked like Coca-Cola, and her tennis shoes stuck to the ground every step she took. The gas station reeked of alcohol, chicken, and buffalo taquitos that had been sitting on the warmer for too long.

She headed for the candy aisle and picked up some nerds and an energy drink, her first meal of the day, but she had an hour left of her drive and could practically fall asleep standing up. 

Bella warily approached the check-out counter, where a middle-aged clerk slumped over the counter with his pale, gnarled hands across the cash register. He looked almost like a part of the store, similar to the chipped paint walls, not just like a clerk. He perfectly matched the aura of the store. 

The man smelled like cigarette smoke and day-old hotdogs. His hair was blonde and unkept, and his ring finger was missing a wedding ring. His employee t-shirt had stains on it and had to have not been washed in days. He looked just as tired as she felt. 

Hello…? Hello…? Are you awake?”

The clerk startled away; his eyes looked fogged, much like outside. “What do you need?” he grumbled 

“Just this and gas on pump 5, please,” she said cautiously,

“I can do that for you, hun,” the clerk said, with a smile stretched across his pale face.

She emptied her coin pouch, which was filled with crumbled bills and nickels—just enough for a full gas tank. How lucky. She had just enough to fill her tank back to halfway, enough to make it to her mother’s hospital room. 

“Why is such a pretty girl like you in Oklahoma?” the clerk asked while slowly straightening out the crumbled-up bills Bella shoved to his side of the counter.

Her stomach turned into knots, similar to a ball of crochet yarn, but with a forced smile, she said, “I’m here for family reasons, but I have to get going; it’s urgent.” She looked outside at the first car her mom bought her when she turned 16, her sweet 16. At this moment, she realized whatever was going to happen, her mom would always be with her. Her car was a reminder of her, and the dorm room she helped decorate was a reminder she would still be with her. She began to fumble around in her pockets for the keys, whether to make sure the vehicle was locked or just to find them to ease her mind. The world went quiet, and she almost heard her mother’s voice, “I’ll be here for you through everything.” 

The clerk handed her a crumbled-up receipt, glanced outside, and then looked back at Bella with a look that made her almost wish she would’ve risked driving to a different gas station.

“Are you going to be alright? It’s too late for a lady like you to be pumping gas, especially around here,” he uttered, and a smirk began to form on his face.

“I’ll be fine…if you’d just turn on the pump, I could leave faster,” she said, growing impatient. 

“If you say so,” the clerk muttered, got up, and walked to the back of the store. 

Bella grabbed her snacks, shoved them into her purse, and glanced at the clock above the exit sign, “2:00 am.” Time was melting away, and she still had an hour left to drive. 

“Let’s go, Bella,” she whispered to herself, “She needs me.”

She opened the door and was greeted by the crisp air against her face and the gasoline smell. The ripe smell stung her nose, and for a second, she drifted back to times when she was a little girl with her mother– the way she would have held her hand in a dark gas station like this. Her mind felt clearer, but every time she began to feel calm, she remembered she was racing against time and her mother’s leukemia. 

She walked towards the pump and looked around for her buzzing phone in her purse. She ignored the buzz, thinking it was probably from friends at college asking where she was or why she wasn’t in class. She left so hurriedly that she forgot to tell anyone where she was going. Putting gas into her car, Bella’s phone buzzed again. “What could a person need now?” she thought while digging through her purse.

Her brother, Sam, had texted her, “ETA Bella??? The doctors say mom is stable for now, but her vitals are declining. Need you here soon.”

The text sent a sense of fear down her spine. Time was moving too fast, and she wasn’t moving fast enough. 

“Still doin’ okay out here?” the clerk’s voice frightened her, and it sounded distant. She looked around to see him standing, almost blending with the darkness in the open gas station doorway. 

“I…I’m fine…just finished getting gas, thanks.” 

“Just making sure… always gotta check on the pretty ones,” he said, his voice fading away with a slight grin left of his face that made her stomach turn in circles. 

The pump clicked off, signaling it was time for her to get back on the road and finally get to the hospital. Bella opened the driver’s side door, ready to leave.

“Stay safe out there, pretty girl.” 

She nodded, closed the car door, and turned her key to the right. The man was a couple feet away from her, but the car couldn’t turn on fast enough. The engine roared, and it was time to return to the highway. She put the gear in drive and glanced in her mirror one last time at the gas station. The wood-boarded door and flickering lights began to disappear into the darkness as she turned onto the street.

Every passing minute gave her more anxiety, but thoughts of her mother guided her and refocused her on the hour she had left to drive. The miles kept disappearing, and for once, throughout the drive, she felt hope. Each mile disappearing reminded her everything would be okay, and her mother would be there when she arrived. She loved their life together, cherished memories, and mother-daughter relationship; she would make it on time; she had to. 

The time read 3:05 am, and Bella was finally pulling into the parking lot of Integris. 

She jolted her car key to the left and bolted to the inside of the lobby, not even sure if she locked her car. 

“Where’s room 101?” she asked the receptionist, trying to keep the rush out of her voice. 

“Third door on the left, ma’am.”

Bella busted through the door, forgetting she was in a dead, silent hospital, where a simple noise sounded like an explosion. 

“Hi, momma, I’m here finally,” she exhaled, collapsing into her warm hospital bed sheets, but there was no response. The room was weirdly quiet, and her mom’s warm feel was nowhere to be found. She reached for her hand, just to see her cold fingers lying beneath the hospital blanket. The silence in the room felt gut-wrenching; Bella fell to her knees, the sound echoing throughout the hospital room.

“I’m so sorry, mom.”

The silence remained throughout the rest of the days, but Bella became grateful for the time they once had. The grief would never end, and the longing for her to come back would always be there, but she was grateful their love filled the time like a bottle bursting through its cap.