I recently read The Host by Stephenie Meyer. I truly enjoyed it. I've always loved science fiction, and I love a good love story. I certainly love a good love triangle, but I never knew that I'd love a good love quadrilateral. It was awesome. I adored the complicated characters, though I must say, I wish we had a bit more back story for Jared and Melanie. I'd like to know why they love each other so much aside from the protection factor. And, may I just say that I love that she punched him when he was kissing Wanda? So cool. Mel's a tough chick. All this is beside the point. This was supposed to be a review and an ode, but now it's really nothing more than me rambling. In the vein of reviewness - you should read it. Better? I thought so.
I live in AZ. I have lived in AZ all of my life, in one city in fact, but that doesn't keep me from taking day trips to other AZ cities. When I was in high school a friend of mine moved to Tucson.Owning a car and being perpetually unsupervised had it's advanatges when I was sixteen. Mainly, I could leave town to visit my friend. On the drive from the Phoenix area (where I'm from) to Tucson, lies a small town called Picacho Peak, which I lovingly have dubbed the Armpit of Civilization. Now what's this got to do with anything? Nothing much except that the majority of The Host takes place in the mountains of Picacho Peak. So I thought I'd share a quaint story.
I traveled a few times to and from Tucson unscathed. Then I got a speeding ticket. Then a flat tire, landing me at a gas station in Picacho Peak where the vending machine sold peanut butter logs and a creepy old man looked me over and wouldn't let me leave because I didn't have enough money to pay him for my tire. My father came to get me and I ran away from the bad man.
On one trip (my final one) to Tucson my car, a stupid Geo Metro, sounded like it was dying. Things were grinding, clunking, smoking. I was sure I was going to be stranded on the I10. I stopped in some podunk town and called my father telling him the car was falling apart. He assured me it was fine (how did he know?) and sent me on my way. Sure enough, the Geo spluttered and jerked, and I heard a massive clunk and something literally fell out of the transmission. I made it safely to the side of the road where I panicked because I was seventeen, blonde haired, blue eyed, thin, attractive, a girl, and STRANDED! I was so freaked out. I prayed and prayed and prayed and had no clue what to do.
As I was praying not to find my death on the side of the road due to dehydration a massive mack truck pulled onto the shoulder. Then I really started to panic. A short, stocky man with a long beard, pipe, too-short shorts and knee socks came sauntering my way. "Well, this is it. I shall be raped, then left for dead in the desert," I thought to myself. I was optimist, you see.
The man, who was naturally named Skip, herded me into his truck. Why did I go? I have no idea. He assured me he'd let me off at a gas station so I could make a phone call. But as we passed exit after exit and I said things like, "This one's fine here." He waved me away, telling me that there was nothing of interest at that exit (every exit). I prayed and prayed and prayed that I wouldn't die. Finally, Skip pulled off on an exit - the exit for Picacho Peak. Awesome. He said his creepy, pipe-smelling goodbyes and left me in the armpit of civilization to die there instead of in his cab.
I made the familiar call from the Dairy Queen/gas station (literally pictured above, the pay phone is on the far right) and my dad was irritated with me. What did I do to the car? How did it break down? Why was I bothering him? Why was I even born to begin with? You know, fatherly love types of questions. In the end, I don't even think he came to get me. I called my future father-in-law or my brother-in-law who picked me up. I can't even remember because 1) I'm old now, and 2) I've been stranded at the Dairy Queen in the armpit of civilization more times than I can count.
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