Dad in Disguise

A town is saved, not more by the righteous men in it, than by the woods and swamps that surround it. --Henry David Thoreau, 1862 Her windshield wipers on high, Maggie tried not to panic as she nudged her van closer to the shoulder of the road, struggling to keep to the narrow mountain pass. Using cuss words she didn't know she knew, she swore in no uncertain terms that this trip was definitely going to be her last. She was getting too old for this nonsense. Let the younger doctors do it. A hair-raising drive through the rainswept mountains of New Hampshire wasnother idea of a good time, even if it was July. As a roving doctor for the Mobile Clinic of New England, Maggie had long accepted that getting lost was a part of the job, and usually saw it as an adventure. But her adventures usually took place in Massachusetts, where she lived. She had only offered to do the New Hampshire route as a favor to a sick friend. Not that the last two weeks hadn't been wonderful. It had been easy to fall in love with New Hampshire and the White Mountains, and the wonderful people who had taken her into their homes and hearts. But in this moment, nursing a cold and running a fever, she was in no mood to explore another country lane. Lost in the mountains in the middle of a major thunderstorm, no cell phone reception, her thermos empty and her gas tank not far behind...Cuss words were the least of her problems. Well, there was a lesson to be learned. From now on, she would definitely pay more attention to the weather report, as she would have done if she hadn't been so anxious to get back home and nurse her wretched cold. The thought of crawling into bed with a box of tissues had been so compelling she'd ignored her common sense. And to make matters worse,if that were possible, her sneezes were coming on fast and furious, she was running low on tissue, and--doctor that she was--there wasn't a single cold pill in her black bag! Oh, if only she had followed her instincts and made that U-turn four miles back! On the other hand, if she didn't find a gas station pretty soon she wouldn't be makinganyturns. She supposed shecouldpull over and sleep in back of the van until someone found her. Surely the state police patrolled these roads. No question, a tall, handsome trooper was just what she needed. No, a trooperanda cup of hot tea. Actually, the way she was feeling, she could skip the trooper. Maggie was fighting a migraine when her luck finally turned. Squinting hard, she was sure her feverish eyes had caught a glimpse of something.Yesss!Obscured by shrubbery and barely discernable through the relentless sheet of gray rain, but yes, thatwasa sign propped against a low-limbed tree, its post long since rotted. The white paint was peeling, and half the letters were missing. Nevertheless, it was a road sign, and with it, the promise of civilization. Please God, let it say Bloomville, the way her map promised. Pr m se P p. 350 3 il s Promise?It certainly did notsay Bloomville.Itwas a pity she was not more familiar with New Hampshire. Pop. 350Tiny.3 ils. Was thatthreemiles, orthirtymiles? Glancing at her gas gauge, Maggie prayed it was only three, as she pointed her van in the direction of the sign. Ten more minutes later, barely able to sketch the lone, battered gas pump just visible through the pouring rain, she pulled into a gas station, her relief almost palpable. That last clap of thunder had sent her heart thumping so wildly she didn't even care whether the gas pump was operable, if only another human being was around to offer her company. Leaning across the console to peer out the passenger window, she fought the sense of unreality that met her eyes.Murky and desolatedid not bode well for a hot cup of tea. Hopefully the scruffy OPEN sign dangling frGale, Barbara is the author of 'Dad in Disguise ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373248520 and ISBN 0373248520.