a massive quilt, a series of high trusses, and an Ohio flag hung from the rafters of the metal pole building, trying to pass as a convenience store.
“You have salad?”
“We got garden salad.”
it was buried under the dozen American pizza choices, deep fried cheese sticks. and other cholesterol-enriched menu items. i looked for a dressing list…
She waited, hand on hip, frowning.
“Dressing- where’s your dressing?”
“I got ranch, eye-talian, and ranch.”
Junior and his tall buddy in denim overalls slipped by and sat at a ’70’s style Pizza Hut table.
“Did you say ‘ranch’?”
“What other kinda dressing is there?”
I ordered…and wandered around the store. Passing a row of deep fried snacks in plastic bags…a row of scientifically created puffed candies…and a row of generic paper products and white bread…
Junior’s father- or someone genetically related- passed me. I escaped his presence- and essence- by returning to the aisle near the Soviet-era deli counter…
“Junior?”
A pizza appeared from some mystery food prep area.
I stared at the feed pallet beside me, trying not to feel foreign. That was when I spotted the goat chow. The side of the bag was torn open, as if someone wanted a free sample…
“Here’s your salad.”
She handed me a stapled brown paper bag containing a hidden plastic container.
I took it to the cashier’s counter, paid for it, and found my car.
Several miles down the road, free from staring eyes, I found a safe gravel road turn off, pulled in, then opened my bag. The plastic container revealed a huge rabbit-food-like pile of torn iceberg lettuce, so large it sprung out onto the floor.
With my fork I dug down into the pile, until I discovered a thin layer of tomato pieces, green pepper pieces, strips of onion, and enough banana peppers to fill a small bottle. Nothing else.
I scouped up the lettuce on the floor hunting for my dressing. It is no wonder I didn’t find it. Because when I did, I nearly spilled the rest of my salad.
It lay on the floor, having rolled out of the paper bag. It looked like a free drink. But inside the large cup, it was all ranch dressing. Enough to paint a fence…
After spilling enough salad and dressing to feed a small child, I ate the rest of the contents within the container…
Then I drove through the country over a one lane gravel road to a nature preserve.
Into a thinned hemlock and hardwood forest, I hiked, until the stream below me dropped several feet….and I saw this-
and walking closer…
…finding a waterfall…far from Junior, goat feed, and the Ranch Dressing Lady…
…where I listened to the symphonic music of God’s natural wonders…in peace…