Big Bend (g/t)

Zoey

Cw: language, mentions of man eating giants (nothing comes of it)

Texas was really fucking big. Yeah, I knew that was like it's whole thing - “everything's bigger in Texas” - but I still hadn't been expecting it to be this big. I'd been driving all day, and I'd watched the sun move from the east to overhead to west and then finally disappear behind the horizon, leaving the faded orange sky that currently sprawled in front of me. I'd entered the state while the sun was somewhere between east and overhead, almost seven hours ago, and based on my phone's map, I still had another hour to go before I'd reach my destination.

Growing up in Connecticut and having spent the last three years mostly staying in the same neighborhood in Seattle, I found myself more than a little shocked.

I probably should have expected this, I thought. I mean, what was I expecting taking a job in the state with the aforementioned motto, at a place called Big Bend.

Well, I wanted to get away from things, and by the looks of it, I've certainly succeeded at that at least.

Miles of desert stretched on for as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Yup. Nailed it.

Despite still being an hour away, I felt anxiety bubbling up in my stomach as I approached what was going to be both my new job and home. I'd never worked at a national park before. Granted, I'd only be working there as a gift shop clerk - not a cool job like being a park ranger. Still, it was entirely out of my comfort zone. Several days of driving out of my comfort zone, to be exact.

The job offered room and board, though, and when it was between spending the last of my money on gas and driving to the other side of the country versus hoping to get a bed at a women's shelter that already didn't have enough beds, I would apparently choose the first option.

I hoped I didn't regret it.

The dim orange sky continued to fade as I drove on. Hotel California played faintly over the radio. When the sky was almost entirely dark, I finally saw it.

The large wood sign sat on the side of the road. There was just enough light left to make out the words. I slowed to a crawl as I drove past.

“Big Bend National Park,” I murmured. “Here goes way more than nothing.”

I continued on, the sign fading into gray dusk as I sped up again. It wasn't long before lights appeared in front of me. They grew larger quickly. Soon, the navigation on my phone showed I'd arrived at my destination. Panther Junction. As I stared at the lights in front of me in the otherwise dark desert, it hit me that I hadn't quite arrived at my destination. Not exactly. I'd been told to go to Panther Junction, where I'd be working and living, but instructions beyond that were unclear. The series of roads, parking lots, and buildings in front of me left far more options than I would have liked. The main visitor center, a two story building with what looked like a balcony, was dark. That eliminated that option, at least. The parking lot in front was also empty, and seemed like a decent enough place to park and start looking for someone who might know where I was supposed to be.

I mean, someone has to know, right? I just really hoped that someone wasn't solely me. I pulled into a parking spot, turned my car off, and climbed out into to crisp night air. Looking around, it seemed like the lights I'd seen were behind the visitor center, so I decided I'd start there.

God, I'd so be the first person to die in a horror. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've seen a horror movie that starts like this.

I pushed those thoughts aside and started walking, reminding myself that this wasn't a horror movie. The walk towards the lights was silent aside from crickets. It grew steadily larger in front of me.