Times in Motor City hadn't been good for a while: the economy had tanked, jobs were being moved overseas by the thousands as cheaper labor costs were found, putting more and more people out of work, and plants seemed to be shutting down daily. Competition with foreign auto manufacturers had made the phrase "Buy American" an outdated philosophy.

I lived in Flint, Michigan at the time and worked at one of the major car company plants there. I was one of those caught up with, and adversely affected by, the current wave of shutdowns and cutbacks. 

We all saw it coming… we weren't the first group to be laid off and we knew that it was only a matter of time. So at least I was able to prepare a bit. I had some money saved up over the years, not enough to retire by any stretch of the imagination, but at least I wouldn't be homeless and destitute the first month.

I had a friend down in Atlanta that said if I could get down there, he could put me to work and, with no other offers on the table, I told him I would take him up on his job. I told my landlord what had happened and he was very understanding and let me out of the lease with no problems. 

My folks, who lived Lansing about an hour away from my home had a storage unit so, with a borrowed flatbed trailer, I packed up what few belongings I had that I wouldn't immediately need and took them to put them in storage. 

I figured once I got to Atlanta, secured the job, and got myself someplace to call home, I would come back for them while visiting my folks.

I had always been close to my parents and moving this far away from them would be hard on all of us, but there was just no work anywhere in the area for an auto factory worker. And too many of us had been laid off already and scooped up any other decent jobs to be found there.

I'd taken one load to the storage already and on the second, I was officially moved. I had squared up with my landlord for the rent and he graciously gave me back my security deposit so I had a little extra cash in pocket. I closed my bank account and got my savings out. Then I headed to my parents with the last of my things.

When I got to Lansing and to my parents' place, I got the key to the storage from them and stowed the last of my belongings in their storage unit. Then I went back to their place for the goodbye scene. 

This was the part of the trip I wasn't looking forward to. But Dad and Mom had prepared themselves for it and knew I didn't have much choice.

"Son, your mother and I have been talking, and we want you to take the Winnebago on your trip. You are going to need someplace to call home on the trip and once you get there. And your old truck is not a suitable place to sleep. 

"Mom and I don't do a lot of traveling anymore, and you'll get more use out of it than we ever will. So leave us the truck and you take the Winnebago," Dad said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. 

This was quite an honor–growing up I had always wanted to get behind the wheel of the family Winnebago, but Dad said it was his job to drive and mine to "watch the countryside and learn about our nation" as he would put it. Now he was not only letting me drive but handing down the keys to the family fun machine to me.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now give me a dollar," he said. Puzzled at the request, I handed him a dollar. 

"Congratulations, you just bought yourself a fully equipped Winnebago motorhome!" he said. He showed me the title and registration and signed over the Winnebago to me. It was now mine officially and I could take it to Atlanta without any problems with license plates or anything.

After many tears and kisses, I left Lansing headed for a new life and a new future in Atlanta. I had never been there before, most of our families trips had been spent in and around Lansing with one memorable trip to the Upper Peninsula. 

And while I was looking forward to warmer weather down south, I was nervous about the whole uncertainty of this move. I didn't have a job secured, although I had a possible offer. And I didn't have a place to live, although I did have the Winnebago now. 

But most of all, I didn't have a whole lot of options. So, pointing the nose of my new home southward, I was off.

This was going to be a trip on the cheap. I had to watch every penny I spent very carefully and scrimp and save everywhere I could. I had gotten a huge break when I got the Winnebago–that alone would save me hundreds of dollars in expenses not to mention giving me someplace I knew I could count on to lay my head. 

Plus, I wouldn't have to push myself to make the next town and then try to find someplace to park; I could just pull over when I needed to, and sleep or whatever. Dad had always been borderline obsessive-compulsive with his meticulous care when it came to maintaining the Winnebago, so I knew I didn't need to worry about that. And it had been garaged all it's life when not being used.

One other thing that would pay big dividends on this trip was Dad's wisdom in installing an electric overdrive unit right behind the transmission. When out on the highway, I simply put the unit's factory cruise control on and flipped a switch on the dashboard and the thing would kick in and give me much better mileage. 

I didn't understand all the technical details of how it worked and what it did, but I know my highway mileage went from around fifteen mpg up to twenty-two mpg; a big difference that would save me a lot of money.

The first leg of my trip would take me on the 496E southward to merge with the 96E and then I headed towards Detroit. I had gotten kind of a late start what with all the goodbyes and promises to call as I made my way down there and when I got to Atlanta. I was the only child and Mom was having a case of "empty nest syndrome" I guess.

I stopped in Brighton for a bite to eat since it was about lunchtime when I left Lansing. I found this little roadside diner that looked fairly inexpensive and pulled in. I had just ordered a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and a bag of potato chips with a soda when it happened.

I heard a man and a woman having a heated and rather vocal argument behind me. I turned around just in time to see this scruffy, ill-tempered, and obviously drunk guy screaming at the woman who was, even from my quick first glance, just trying to get out of there without causing too much commotion or spectacle.

"Can't we just go home and talk about this?" she implored him.

"No! We are going to hash this out right here and now and fuck everyone who hears it!" he yelled.

"Please, Tommy! You're embarrassing me!" she said, starting to get up.

And then Tommy, for whatever reason in his drunken stupor, backhanded the girl so hard he knocked her to the floor. She landed with a thump, bumping into the table on the way down so hard it knocked over his precious drink and spilled it. 

This pissed him off even more. "Now look at what you did, dammit! You spilled my drink!" he screamed. He reached down to pick her up and drew back to smack her again. That's when I stepped up.

"Hey! That's about enough… unless you care to try that with something that hits back!" I said.

"Mind your own fucking business," he looked at me angrily.

"No problem, mister. But if you raise a hand to this woman again we are gonna have a real problem. Now I suggest you go find a rock to crawl under till you sleep it off and come back more civil-like," I said.

Well, with all the liquid courage he had downed already, he wasn't about to leave peacefully at my suggestion. He came at me and after a good right cross to his jaw that staggered him, he was even more pissed off. 

Grabbing up a steak knife off the table, he came at me again. So I grabbed my chair and as he lunged, I caught his knife arm in the chair's legs and spindles and twisted it trapping his arm and bending it back at the elbow. He screamed and I rolled to one side, sending him crashing into a table and knocking it over. 

But he was so liquored up it didn't register with him to stop the fight. He came at me a third time and this time, moving to his injured side, I gave him a good hard shove into the wall. He couldn't stay on his feet, and crashed headfirst into the wall, falling like a sack of potatoes as he lay out cold on the floor.

About the time Tommy's skull found the wall, the waitress came around and with a couple more big guys who were regulars there and they carried Tommy out into the parking lot and put him in his car to sleep it off.

The waitress then came over to where I had returned to my meal. 

"Thanks a lot, mister. That jerk is always causing trouble around here and scares off the good people. This used to be a nice place to come and eat but his kind have made this a place most people avoid anymore. I'm glad someone finally put him in his place," she said.

"Yeah, I'll bet you get all kinds here. So what's going to happen now?" I asked.

"Well, he's pretty well-known as a troublemaker round here. If anyone says anything, it won't be hard to put the blame on him. And I'll just say some stranger took care of him. You won't be involved, and he probably won't even remember what happened anyway!" she said, smiling at me.

"That's good. I am just passing through anyway," I said.

"Well, your meal is on the house honey," she said, putting her arm on mine.

I looked at her name tag, "Thanks Betty, I'm just glad it's over," I said.

"Well, I don't know how 'over' it is for you," she said, nodding to the woman with a shiner on her cheek from Tommy's blow.

"Can I get a towel with some ice in it for her?" I asked the waitress.

"Sure thing," she said, "You're a good man." And she went to go get it.

I went over to her asking if she was okay. She was decent looking, about five feet five with a very nice figure and longish brown hair. I helped her to stand and she brushed herself off. Then I handed her the towel with ice when the waitress brought it over. 

"I'm okay. But when he wakes up and remembers what happened, he is going to really be mad. He doesn't like anyone to stand up to him and embarrass him, and now that you knocked him on his ass in front of everyone here, he is going to be looking to take it out on someone. I don't suppose you are going to be around?" she asked.

"No I'm just passing through," I said.

"That figures. Nobody comes to Brighton to stay. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

"Don't you have someplace to stay?" I asked.

"No. We lived together and he took care of all those things. Once he wakes up, I won't be able to stay with him anymore. I'm homeless and on the streets… unless you are offering to stay with you?" she said.

"You don't have friends you could stay with until he cools off?" I asked.

"No. One thing about Tommy, he was very possessive and very jealous. That's what this whole thing today was about. I called my Mom without him home. He always thinks I'm planning on leaving him. I'm not even allowed girlfriends because he's afraid they will talk me into dumping him or something. He has alienated me from everyone," she explained.

"Look, my name is John, and I am on my way to Atlanta. You're welcome to come with me if you'd like."

"John, I'm Alice and I don't want to be here when he wakes up. When were you planning on leaving?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm ready to go now. I just have to pay the bill," I said.

"Okay, just let me get my purse," she said. She went to get her purse and met me at the register where I paid for my meal and left the waitress a good tip for her help in the matter too.

"I'm ready… let's go," she said. We walked out into the parking lot and I led my new traveling companion to the Winnebago. 

"This is yours? I was wondering who had the motorhome when we pulled in here! This is usually a trucker place–a motorhome kinda stands out!" she said.

"Yeah welcome to 'Chez Anderson'! Come on in, I'll show you around," I said. I unlocked the door and held it open letting her go in first.

"Hey, this is pretty nice! I always wanted to see the inside of one of these things! This is cute!" she said.

"Well, here is the kitchen area with the stove, oven, sink, and fridge. There's some storage here and under the sink. Back there is the bathroom with a small shower and toilet. Further back is the bedroom. This sofa also makes into a bed and the table drops down for even more sleeping area. 

"But we won't need that. Overhead is another bed, but I just use it for storage. I have blankets and pillows and my suitcases up there. That's about it, the grand tour. I will show you how to use the different things as we go along," I said.

"It's really a nice setup," she said, looking around.

"Do you have anything other than your purse? I mean like clothes or anything?" I asked.

"No, everything's back at the apartment," she said.

"Well he's probably going to be out of it for a few hours, we could go by your apartment so you could get your clothes and things," I said.

"Thanks, that would be helpful. I'd like to at least get my clothes and makeup and things. Most of the rest is stuff we bought together like the furniture. And he can keep that stuff–I don't want the memories," she said.

"I understand. Just tell me where to go," I said. She told me how to get to her apartment and along the way, we had a little talk.

"John, there's a couple of things we need to get straight before this goes too far," she said.

"Okay, what's on your mind?" I asked.

"First off, I don't know what you had in mind for this trip but I don't have a lot of money on me for hotels and fancy restaurants. I have some money and I can help pay for gas and pay for my meals at diners like the one we met in, but that's about it. 

"Tommy took care of the money thing and I had to give him whatever I made from work so he could pay the bills," she said.

"Well, Alice, I lost my job about a month ago and I am going to Atlanta to see about getting a new one with an old friend. I bought this Winnebago from my father for a buck because he and Mom didn't want me sleeping in my old pickup truck. 

"So this trip is a penny-pinching one for me as well. I won't be staying in any hotels and as for eating, I was planning on doing most of that here in the motorhome except for an occasional–and very occasional–meal at a restaurant or diner," I told her.

"That's good. Now for the second thing, and I don't want to offend you with this, okay? I don't know what you are thinking about, you and I on the road alone together, but I have to tell you that right now I am on my period and I can't have sex with you. So if that was part of the deal…" she said.

"Alice, frankly I hadn't even thought about that. I just saw a woman being abused and assaulted back at the diner and I had to step up and stop it. I don't care what the reason behind it was, there is never any good excuse for hitting a woman," I said.

"Yes, but you could have just ignored it and went on eating your lunch... everyone else was," she said.

"No, I couldn't, I wasn't raised that way. I was taught that women were to be loved, respected, and admired - not used as a punching bag. That's what walls are for–at least they don't feel pain," I said.

She sat there in the passenger seat for a few moments thinking about what I had said.

"Didn't you have any qualms about getting in this motorhome and going away with a guy you never met with no one knowing where we were going and with me already proving I was capable of violence?" I asked her, trying to break the silence.

"What was I supposed to do? I couldn't just wait around for Tommy to come to. He'd have beaten me half to death. And I didn't see a line of guys behind you waiting to help me out! If I had gone with one of the other guys in the diner, what makes you think I'd have been any safer? 

"At least you showed some gentlemanliness in standing up for me. Besides, you have a kind face, something in my gut told me I could trust you. Were my instincts wrong?" she asked.

"No, not at all Alice," I said. She smiled then… the first time I'd seen her smile. And she had a beautiful smile.

We arrived at her apartment building and I pulled up in front of her door. We went inside and she began gathering up her clothes and handing them to me to take out to the motorhome. I laid everything on the table and sofa for her to put away later. We had to hurry, neither of us wanted to be here in case Tommy recovered faster than I gave him credit for!

When all of her clothes were loaded up, she got her toiletries and makeup and took them to the motorhome. Finally, she got a couple of pictures of her family off the wall and we put them in the motorhome too, stashing them under the bed in the master bedroom so they wouldn't get broken. 

Grabbing a couple of suitcases from her closet to store her clothes in, we were finished. Alice locked the door to the apartment for the last time and we were on our way.