Breaking the Moon

1: Car Troubles

.^^ Mångata House ^^

— Haven —

Directions given by locals always sucked.

One good reason, of course; despite the fact you're asking for directions, they assume you know the area, and will recognize local landmarks.

And that's how I'd ended up headed down a shitty, rocky road cutely named 'Old Mackenzie's Highway' in the middle of Oregon's Willamette National Forest.

No road signs, no posted speed limits, (like I'd risk speeding on this icy, slippery, rocky bullshit excuse for a road,) and no police officers, that I'd seen for the past 120 miles.

My map said I should have only been able to travel 50 miles on this road before I reached 'Bend, Oregon', But my mileage wasn't lying, which meant I was going in circles.

"What the hell?" I murmured, looking at the tiny, abandoned-looking gas station tucked into the thick trees to my left.

I pulled in, my eyes locked on the light that was on in the Garage, and parked.

The light turned off, making my hand freeze on the ignition.

An old man, perhaps eighty, strolled out of the garage, wiping his hands, both covered in grease, onto a yellow rag. "Well I'll be... a lil'ol lost tourist?"

"Not really a tourist, I'm just trying to get to Bend, Oregon? The map says to follow this road, so I don't really know where I went wrong." I answered, relieved at the kind teasing in his tone.

He scratched at his silver and black beard. "Bend, Huh? You should be on Old Mackenzie, lil'un... this here is 'Old Farraway'. We thought it was funny, when we named it, heh... 'far away'." He chuckled.

"Uh... okay, so do I turn around, or-"

"No, no, don't worry. Head on straight, until you hit a fork in the road. The left leads to a li'l community, if you want to stop for the night, but the right leads to Cascade Lakes Highway... follow that east until the 97, take your left up north, and you'll come up into Bend from the south." He said clearly, tracing it on my map with a chalky carpenters pencil from his coverall's pocket.

I nodded slowly, following the route. "Alright... thank you, sir! Now is there any chance you have gas in those pumps?" I pointed a thumb at the two little gas stations.

He grinned. "Jest got 'em filled last year! $.50 a gallon, you can pay inside. Grab yourself a drink to go, eh?"

I smiled at the low pricing, a combination of the location and his age, and nodded, stepping out to fill my tank up.

The trusty green truck still had half a tank, even after 220 miles or so, but I filled it up again anyway, then headed inside to find something to drink.

Two refrigerators at the back were filled with Ice and cans of soda, but most of the store was clothes, of all sizes and shapes, and boots.

"Lot of People need winter clothes?" I asked, smiling.

He laughed. "I'm actually the main store for that community I told you about. Clothes and mechanic work, they come to me."

"And food?" I hummed.

"Oh they make do with what they can get. It's about to be elk season, actually, so I'll probably get a few pelts to sell, soon enough. Sell 'em online, or to a local, use the money to buy more supplies, it's a good system." He nodded, mostly talking to himself as he rang up the gas and my chosen soda, a Pib that had expired about a month ago.