Maine is a big state. You don’t have to go far from home to feel like you’re in the middle of nowhere.
I’m rolling along a back road less than two hours from home, zipping through towns I’ve never heard of before. Ripley... Harmony... Cambridge. I’m following the GPS, but I feel lost.
I stop for gas. Two guys who clearly know each other are filling up their trucks, carrying on a conversation across the pumps.
“I got a haul ahead of me tonight.”
“Where to?”
“Keene, New Hampshire. Middle of fucking nowhere.”
I don’t know where nowhere is, but I’ve been to Keene many times to visit Eliza’s family, and it’s definitely not the center of it. I mean, they filmed Jumanji there.
And then I realized I was pumping gas at the center of his universe.