Fog

“Who names a town Hairy Creek?” exclaims Jenna as our car zooms past the exit sign. The road ahead of us seems the same as it did 3 hours ago: flat and tedious with the occasional cow pasture every few miles.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been to Missouri!” I yell from the driver’s seat. “But speaking of exits it’s gonna be dark soon so we should probably pull off at the next town. I hear silence from the back seat and look at the rearview mirror. Jenna and Laurie are sitting side by side in the back seats, pouting. “Oh, what is it now?!” I huff at them. Jenna raises an eyebrow.

“Oh nothing, Kim. I’m totally okay with missing the wedding in favor of staying the night in the middle of nowhere!” I sigh, and so does Laurie.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to-” Suddenly an exit sign emerges from the dimming daylight. “There! We’ll get off in Poplarville!” Jenna rolls her eyes, but she knows that when we’re road-tripping, the driver is always in control. I pull my old, dusty white car off the highway and onto a road that heads straight into miles of empty fields. The fields seem to be going on forever into the sunset until a small, green sign emerges with the words “WELCOME TO POPLARVILLE, MISSOURI” stamped onto the front. The road comes to a “town” that consists of a barbecue restaurant, a gas station, and a few small houses in a row. There’s also a small brick building down the road with a neon sign reading “JEFF’S MOTOR INN.”

“Hey, we made it! Let’s go to that hotel over there I guess.” We blast through the lonely intersection and roll down the street to Jeff’s Motor Inn. I park the car and the girls get out. The lobby of the inn has stained cream-colored carpet, yellow walls, and a small wooden desk with an older man sitting behind it. I smile at him awkwardly, and he grins.

“Hello, there! I’m Jeff. What can I do y'all for?” Now Jenna and Laurie are smiling awkwardly too. Suddenly the phone on the desk rings and Jeff picks it up without a flinch. Laurie takes the opportunity to whisper to me and Jenna.

“Are you sure we should stay here? Maybe we could go a bit further down the highway and-” I start shaking my head vigorously.

“No, we’re already here. Let’s just get through tonight and we’ll be back on our way first thing in the morning.” Laurie scowls, but I try not to pay attention. Jeff hangs up the phone. “We just wanted a room for tonight if that’s alright” I mutter. He smiles and takes a bright silver key off one of the hangers behind him.

“Well, here ya are!” he booms. “That’ll be $65. Cash only.” I whip around and stare at Jenna and Laurie with a desperate expression. As someone who lives in a largely cash-free society, I didn’t have the common sense to go to an ATM before we left. Luckily, Jenna pulls out some $20 bills and hands them to me. I promptly hand them to Jeff, who smiles and opens his cash register. “Thank you very much! That’ll be room 102, just down the hall to your right. Oh, and before you ask, the only good place to eat ‘round here is Jean and Sons BBQ down the street. You could try getting some hot dogs at the gas station but the last person to do that was puking so bad all night I could hear ‘em from over here!” He chuckles. I thank him nervously and we go to our room.

We open the door and shuffle into our room. The staunch smell of smoke immediately wafts out into the hallway, making Jenna and Laurie cough. The furniture inside the room has to be at least 50 years old and is covered in various stains and crust.

“Well it’s not ideal,” I say, “but it’ll do for tonight. Are you guys hungry?” I look behind me and both of the girls nod. We set our bags in the room and head back to the car. When we arrive at Jean and Sons, there’s a middle-aged man in a leather jacket and a cowboy hat standing in front of the building with his arms crossed. We get out of the car.