INDIANA

I'm driving through southern Indiana on my way to Los Angeles. There are cultivated fields along the highway and after a while it's all corn. I'm staring - I've never seen corn so tall with thick stems, dark green leaves. America is rich, I think, you can see it in the corn which looks so healthy it can only be the result of science and effort.
     I find a motel and go in to register. When I come out to move the car, it won't start. I try again and a few times more. I can't believe it. I'm in the middle of nowhere. I have AAA but it's after seven and for some reason I don't want the car towed to somewhere I'll have to leave overnight. It may not be working but it's still my car.  I know this is ridiculous but stranger, and worse, things have happened. If this is where my head goes automatically, I know I'm losing it.
     I suddenly remember I'm a member of a fellowship that has chapters around the country. I look in the phone book and one is listed. I call the number, it rings for a very long time but I feel hanging up is the same as cutting a lifeline. Finally, a man answers. I tell him who I am and what my problem is and he immediately says, "Don't worry, we'll take care of it in the morning." That's all I need to know - someone will help me and the panic is already fading. He tells me he was on his way to a fellowship meeting and offers to pick me up. Of course, I say, of course. I go outside to wait. I don't know who or what I'm waiting for but what drives up is the biggest Harley I've ever seen. It's a dusty pinkish color which doesn't quite compute with its size and power but for the moment  I'm not thinking about the bike. I'm looking at the man who's riding it. Think of Sterling Hayden with a crew cut and reflector sunglasses, in swim trunks, no shirt and flip flops. We introduce ourselves and he says, "hop on." I do.
     We take off and I can't get over the size of the bike. Unless my eyes deceive me, there's carpeting on the floor board. I'm holding on to the bar behind my seat and the ride is completely smooth. We're on a two lane country road. I look at the man's back, the overhanging trees, the fact of me on this huge Harley in the middle of southern Indiana and suddenly laughter rises up in me, deep spontaneous waves of laughter that I want to last forever. I can't believe it. I'm having the time of my life.
     When we get to the meeting, the man puts on a t-shirt and introduces everyone to everyone, including me. It's as if he's the official majordomo, making sure we have a pleasant evening.  There are long tables set up in a square. He sits opposite and I covertly watch him. He's restless, distracted, and half way through the meeting, me leaves without a glance at me. It's all right. I know someone else will take me back to the motel.  When it's my turn to share, I tell the meeting that I'm driving cross country and my car has broken down. Everyone is nodding as if it's a minor glitch (which I suppose it is) and this is enough to make me feel better.
     The meeting ends and I find myself standing with the man's mother to whom he introduced me. I say it was so nice of him to pick me up and bring me here. I say, "Your son stands so straight. Was he in the military?" She looks at me and laughs. "No", she says. "Jail."
     It turns out there's a mechanic at the meeting and he comes to the motel the next morning, lifts the hood and does something I can't see. Then he closes the hood much too quickly but that's because he's already fixed it. A clogged gas filter, many thanks and I'm on my way.
       This story is definitely one to dine out on and I've told it many times. I think the man would be astonished at how often I talk about him, and his dusty pink Harley, the country roads and the overhanging trees, his mother laughing and saying, "No, jail". But most of all - of course - I see myself hanging on to the bike and I hear my laughter, that deep spontaneous laughter. Even now, I feel it bubbling up and traveling through my body and there's no way to stop it, no desire to stop it.  How unpredictable and amazing life is. How great it is to be alive.