"Once A Kid" Excerpt - Ralph & Red Cross the Country

It started early as Red and I headed to the Zerega Ave subway station a few blocks from my house on Parker Street. We had to change in midtown to catch the tubes to Jersey City. It was there at a truck stop that our hitchhiking fantasy began. Traveling was tougher than I thought, but we did manage to get some rides with individuals and truckers alike. When we arrived on the outskirts of Terre Haute, Indiana, it became tougher and tougher and colder and colder -- after all it was January in the Midwest and the weather was unforgiving. After a while a truck driver with his huge rig stopped and offered us a ride. We accepted, but there was a simple catch. We couldn't ride in the same cab. Red would have to ride with the next truck's driver, who was a buddy of my driver. So what! We had a ride. My driver told me they we would all meet up at Bud's Truck Stop in Dayton, Ohio. Okay! However Red's driver told him they they always met up at Bud's Truck Stop in Indianapolis, Indiana. Not surprisingly, I ended up on the outer edge of Dayton while Red waited on the outer edge of Indianapolis. I thought the adventure was over as the ordeal of finding each other took almost twenty-four hours. Only by the grace of god were we ever able to get together. Our situation was so bad that Red actually made an emergency call to an FBI office. He was quickly told that they could not intervene unless the missing person was kidnapped. So Red being Red told them that this was INDEED A POSSIBILITY! Talk about rattled nerves! Our eventually making contact was remarkable. My driver finally left me saying that they might be in Indianapolis. Thanks a lot! This was quite a bit after the fact. So I urgently called information on a pay phone and asked the number for Bud's Truck in Indianapolis. The response to me was which one? Wow -- I got numbers for the different locations and as luck would have it Red was near the counter when a phone call came in and somehow he knew the person on the other end of the phone was me. He asked for the phone and said, "Ralphie Boy!"

The next thing I knew was we were making plans to meet-up once again. It would probably take at least eight-hours to get there. Right! Not the case. It was like no one would give me a ride. Hours went by accompanied by the frustrations that come along with it. I tried and tried and tried some more. Finally a young driver wanted company. He was reporting for military duty at Fort Carson in Colorado. I jumped at the chance and knew we were at least headed in the right direction. I made it to hopefully the right truck stop in just under twenty-four hours, and as I started walking toward the entry way I spotted the old red head still wearing his beat-up, heavy brown coat along with his black cowboy hat sitting near the window. Oh my gosh, what a relief! We embraced and went on to the next round.