Go Forth and Seek Your Fortune!

I will never see Wayne again. I am sure of this. I cannot find a circumstance that would bring me back to the side of the road of US 421 in rural North Carolina and even if I were to return, I doubt that it would result in my crossing paths with Wayne. Though I won't see Wayne again, I certainly won't forget his kindness.
The afternoon sun combined with the humidity and the weight of my pack almost brought me to my knees. After a sleepless night camped next to the highway with the lullaby of 18 wheelers whizzing by a few feet from my blistered feet, the hours of hiking along the shadeless road, our water long drank, refills miles away we were hitting rock bottom. We hadn't spoken a word in hours and that had only been quarrelling. We were only able to walk 20 minutes at a time before having to rest. My brain had started to panic. We had gotten ourselves into real trouble. Behind the eight ball, the heat now radiating off of the road baking us from above and below we needed help.
I initially thought we were in for trouble when the blue late model Silverado pulled off of the road and onto the dirt path we were walking on. We were in no shape to defend ourselves and we were in an area where the odds of the driver being armed were far greater than not. The truck pulled closer to us, stopped like deer in the headlights, exhausted, tongues ajar, the window was cranked down and a human paw was thrust out, holding out a Gatorade. I could see it was still cold by the condensation on it. A second later a bottle of water was hanging out of the truck, connected to the Good Samaritan, Wayne. "I thought you boys could use some of this." he said. We needed it more than he could have known. After giving us the much needed liquid he invited us into the cab of his truck to sit in the AC for a few minutes. We were far too dehydrated and exhausted to display our gratitude and the gravity of our situation to Wayne. I hope our silence was more of a sign of our need than our distrust. I am certain that Wayne's act of kindness got me through the worst physical day of my life.

****

Thirteen miles behind us and three to go until we could sleep our shadows had disappeared with the sun overhead, we were behind schedule. We had left well before dawn to avoid the heat but our tardiness meant the last leg of the day’s hike would be hot. We had just entered the town limits of Fuquay Varina and cars were passing too close for comfort. A white compact veered off the road to a vacant parking lot across the street from us and a young woman leapt out and started at us like a mother chasing down a child who had forgotten their lunch. We were too tired to react and just stared as she dodged traffic. In her hands was a large Ziploc of cookies which she jammed into my hands while she blurted that she had seen us on the news and supported our hike. She mentioned being late to something and was gone as soon as she came. What she doesn't know is that the hour before she gave us the cookies two of us had received slight injuries and moral was pretty low because we had discovered a miscalculation that meant we had more miles to walk than we had originally thought. This gift from a stranger renewed our sense of purpose and catapulted us through the rest of our mileage that the day. And although the cookies weren't the best I ever tasted, I can't think of a batch I have more appreciated.