About an hour later, they were at a gas station. Rick was sticking his head underneath the car to see if there was anything broken or leaking.

“Looks like just some scratches to the body. Nothing major,” he said.

“I'm going to see if they sell phone chargers here,” said Liz.

It was a full-service truck stop. Ah, Civilization, thought Liz. They had a large spinning rack with all sorts of cords and plugs. She grabbed a charger that was the right size for her phone and brought it up to the counter, but not before grabbing a tall can of Old English out of the fridge.

“That will be twenty-three dollars and forty-three cents,” said the man behind the counter.

“Wow. That's a lot. Do you have anything cheaper?” Liz asked.

“They don't come any cheaper than the Old English,” said the store clerk.

“What? No,” said Liz, “I meant the phone charger.”

“Everything we have is on that rack and it costs about the same price.”

“Alright then,” said Liz. She pulled out her debit card and handed it to the man. He ran it though the machine and the machine gave it a negative beep. He ran it again. Again, the machine gave an unsatisfied beep.

“Sorry,” he said, “but this card doesn't seem to be working. Do you have another?”

“Can you try it again?” Liz Asked.

“I'm sorry, but it's saying declined. Do you have cash?”

“No. I don't.” Dammit, Liz thought. “Okay, just the phone charger then,” said Liz.

Even at just over eighteen dollars, the card was still declined.

“Just the beer then,” said Liz. At least she could have that she thought until the card was declined again.

“What the hell!” Liz shouted.

“Miss,” said the clerk, “I would ask you to watch your language in the store.”

Liz put her hand over her mouth.

“Okay,” she said, “I'll just put these back then.”

As she reached out for the beer and phone charger the clerk snatched them away.

“Don't worry, miss,” said the clerk, “I can put these back for you.”

He handed her back the card. As she put it in her purse, she found the five-dollar bill Rick had given her at the bar last night. Thank God for small favors, Liz thought. She put the bill down on the counter.

“Actually, I will buy that beer,” said Liz. The clerk eyed her suspiciously.

“I thought you said that you didn't have any cash,” pointed out the clerk.

“Well, I didn't think I did,” said Liz, “but apparently I was wrong. Now can I have my beer please?”

The clerk put the beer in a brown bag and made change.

When she turned around she noticed an impatient line had formed behind her. A sharp dressed man wearing a brown trench coat that had mud splattered on the side bellowed a cough in her direction. She knew it was meant for her by the way the man glared at her. They were all glaring at her.

“I'm sorry,” she said as she walked away.

“Damn crackheads,” she heard one of the truckers say as soon as she turned her back.

“I know how you can make a quick twenty dollars,” said another as they all started to laugh. Liz felt hot blood surging up her neck and into her brain. Her mind flashed with an image of Rick giving her a twenty-dollar bill.

Great, Liz thought, now I'm going to have to ask Rick for money. It was set in stone. She was on a predetermined course to be a bum. She hated being a bum.

Liz hurried into the ladies' room and sat down in the empty stall. She cracked open the beer and chugged it down. The cold and the bubbles stung her dry throat. It took effort, but she got the whole thing down. That should stop these damn visions for a second, she thought.

She went and found Rick, who was standing in line at the sandwich shop next door.

“How's it going? You want anything?” Rick asked.

“Um... Sorry to ask this, but can I borrow twenty dollars? I can pay you back.”

“Twenty dollars? That's quite a bit of cash. What's it for?”

“I need to get a phone charger… So I can call my dad and have him wire me some money.”

“Do you want to use my phone?”

“I don't know the number. I'd need my phone to look it up.”

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“Sure. You're going to get some money and give it right back to me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. Here you go.” Rick reached into his pocket and handed her the money.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. You want a sandwich?”

“No. I'll get something when I have some money.”

“Are you sure? It's been a while since you've eaten.”

“No. I'm fine.”

“Alright then.”

Liz went back to the counter.

“Still have that charger behind the counter?” Liz asked the clerk.

“That was fast,” said the clerk with a smirk on his face.

“I don't need the DVD commentary,” said Liz, “just the charger.”

Liz found a spot near a wall outlet. She couldn't get the package open at first, so she used her teeth to tear though the plastic. She plugged the phone in, but nothing happened. Great, twenty dollars for nothing, she thought. Then, after a few seconds the phone buzzed and jumped to life.

She felt a wave of relief wash over her. She never realized how attached to it she had become. She thought to herself, this is how cigarette addicts must feel when they can't smoke. Then as the phone booted up and she saw the text and instant messages that had been piling up, another wave of anxiety came over her. She had forgotten about the mess she had left behind in Indiana.

Her father had left five messages for her. When her father left one message it was just him saying hi. Two messages meant he had something important to say. Three meant he was upset about something. Four meant he was livid. She had never seen five messages before. She was almost afraid to call, but she did anyway. She needed to talk to him.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Shouted her father over the phone.

“Hey, daddy.”

“Don't you 'hey daddy' me, young lady. What is going on? Amy called. Something about an older fellow and that you can't pay your rent?”

“Listen, about that. I need you to pick up my stuff from Amy's, but that's not important right now. I was just...”

Her father cut her off before she could finish saying that she had just survived being in a tornado.

“What do you mean it's not important? You're twenty-six years old. When are you going to grow up and get your life together? Or are you going to be having your roommates calling me for rent money when you're thirty too?”

“Daddy, I...”

“Listen. Why don't you just come home and we'll talk about it. Your mother is making a roast tonight. We can see about getting you a civilian job on the base. Something clerical.”

“I can't. Can't you just do me a favor and get my stuff? It not much. Just my computer, my clothes, and my books.”

“Listen, Elizabeth, your mother and I are not your servant. If you want your things you're just going to have to get them yourself like a big girl. We can't be solving your problems for you all the time.”

“I can't. I'm in Kansas right now. I really need you to...”

“Kansas? What the heck are you doing in Kansas?” Her father asked.

“Kansas? Why is she in Kansas?” Her mother parroted in the background of the conversation.

All Liz wanted to do was say, hey, I was caught in a tornado, but I'm all right now, thanks for asking. But that wasn't going to happen, not now.

“Listen. My phone doesn't have a lot of battery. I have to go. Can you please get my things for me? I'll explain everything later. I promise.”

“Liz!”

“Phone dying! Okay bye!”

Liz hung up the phone.