The Road to Grace (The Walk) Read Online Free PDF Page B

town, really, but it was the first I’d seen since Rapid City. The highway crossed the Cheyenne River, which was the first body of water I’d seen in a while. A half hour past the river, I came to a rest area, where I stopped to use the bathroom. I took some extra toilet paper because I was running low. I filled up my water bottles with fresh water.
    As I strapped the bottles to my waistband, the thought returned to me, what was Pamela doing for water? What if she really meant what she’d said about dying? I hoped, for her sake, that she’d gotten smart and caught a ride back to Custer, or wherever she’d left her car. She had to have. She couldn’t have made it this far without finding water somewhere.
    After my stop at the rest area, the frequency of the Wall Drug assault increased, assuring me that I was getting close. At my current pace, I would reach Wall by late afternoon.
     
    Black Hills Gold. Wall Drug
     
    Exit 109. Wall Drug
     
    Experience Wall Drug
     
    Coffee 5 cents. Wall Drug
     
    Conoco and Wall Drug
     
    The Wild West. Wall Drug
     
    Tour Bus Stop. Wall Drug
     
    Free Coffee and Donuts for Veterans. Wall Drug
     
    Famous Western Art Gallery—A Wall Drug Must See
     
    I was still keeping track of the signs in my journal. Out of curiosity, I counted the entries when I stopped for lunch. Fifty-two. And that was just what I’d passed goingeast. I was sure there were just as many on the other side of Wall. That was more than a hundred signs. Considering where the signs were placed, on the outskirts of farms, I figured that the Wall Drug folk weren’t paying usual advertising rates, as an outdoor campaign of that magnitude would cost a fortune. It was probably handled as a neighbor deal, a weekly pie or two, or free ice cream for the farmer’s kids. Southern South Dakota still seemed to be that kind of place.
    A couple of miles later, I saw train tracks on the south side of the road. I wondered where they had been for the last fifty miles.
    An hour after lunch I came upon a decent-sized pond with inviting blue water. I climbed down the sloped shoulder of the highway to the edge of the pond. When there were no cars in sight, I stripped down and jumped in. I hadn’t bathed for two days, not since the Happy Holiday Motel, and I was as sticky as a roll of flypaper. The water felt magnificent. I washed my hair and body with a small bottle of shampoo I had left over from the Holly House Bed and Breakfast.
    I bathed for about twenty minutes, dried myself off, dressed, and climbed back to the highway. I had been walking for two hours when I heard the familiar sound of a car stopping behind me. Pamela. At least she doesn’t have any trouble getting people to pick her up , I thought. Of course, if I saw a stranger—a mature woman—hitchhiking along this road, my conscience wouldn’t let me pass her by. But to me she was no stranger. I knew what she had done.
    As I watched her climb out of the car, I could tell that something was wrong. The driver of the car was saying something to her; his words, though indistinguishable,sounded pleading. Pamela offered a curt “thank you” and shut the car door, staggering a little as she stepped back. Even from a distance I could see that she wasn’t okay. She was leaning to one side and her steps were awkward.
    I had once read about people crawling to Mecca to atone for their sins. I wondered if, on some level, Pamela saw this journey as her penance. Maybe she really was willing to walk herself to death. I didn’t want to think about it. I continued on past two more signs.
     
    Wall Drug, USA. Just Ahead
     
    Homemade Lunch Specials. Wall Drug
     
    A few minutes later I looked back. Pamela was farther behind than I thought she would be. Actually, it looked like she hadn’t taken more than a few steps since she’d left the car. I continued walking but turned back less than a minute later. Pamela was facedown on the ground.
    I dropped my pack on the side of the road and