This is partly a draft, partly an outline, and partly an I dont know.... |
What does life have in store for me? I've never been good with surprises. During Christmas time, I sneak around, hiding behind over-sized cardboard boxes full of memories and dusty decorations, and under gaudy lighted Christmas trees, filling my hair with pine needles just to hear what my family's wrapping up for me each year. You can't sneak around and spy on life though. That doesn't even make sense. There is no way of knowing whats going to happen in the next 30 seconds, let alone the next 30 years. For all anyone knows, in the next hour a crazed clown who escaped from the circus is going to break into my home, find a comfortable spot on my couch and refuse to leave. As Improbable as that is, you never know whats in store for you. I'm 18 years old. I am finally free. I have nothing tying me down. No where I have to be, No one counting on me, and Nothing I have to do. This is it. This is where I really begin living. For the first time since I was born I feel like a clean slate, I feel like I've been reborn. My bags are packed, my Honda's little trunk is stuffed and fighting with it's latch to open, and I am pulling out of the driveway. I've been planning this day in my mind for years now. The day I would pack my bags, get on the road, and drive to wherever life takes me. I have my windows down even though my thick brown hair is blowing in my face causing my hair to resemble a bad 80's flashback, and blurring my vision, while I listen to the Beatles as loud as my stereo will allow, and sing along at the top of my lungs. In the seat next to me? A half-eaten bag of baked lays, twizzlers, diet coke, and enough vegan snacks to satisfy an entire PETA convention. No map though. That's the rule. I have no idea where I'm going and no idea where I'll end up. It's a mystery, and It's exhilarating. Half-way through the third verse of Yellow Submarine I see a sign on the side of the road. 'Worlds largest Menorah! next exit.' Would stopping to see this obvious, and slightly anti-Semitic tourist trap bring any meaning to my life? would I be a better person because I stopped to see this? No. So I take the exit and pull up in an abandoned, slightly circular shaped parking lot. I step out of my car, step in a rock solid wad of gum, and walk up to a 20 foot tall Menorah. I stand there for awhile, taking in my surroundings, and wondering why anyone would build a circular shaped parking lot, then wondering who would build a 20 foot menorah in the middle of Illinois, and then running into the the gift shop to buy a mini menorah that says 'Largest Menorah in the world. -Flora IL.-' Finally, I tell myself I just wasted 11 minutes of my life, and hop back into my car. All the while wondering where this road will take me, and who I'll be when this is all over. The sun is beginning to set, and so I start to contemplate the evenings sleeping arrangements. I could just keep driving all through the night, but then I would be too tired to drive tomorrow. I could always just find a place to park and sleep in the car, but just the thought of doing that brings to mind about 20 horror movies, in which sleeping in the car was never a good idea. I finally decide to find a cheap motel for the night, and my eyes begin scanning the exit signs. I find one a few miles later. It's not the Hilton or anything, but there's no Norman Bates running it, and there is a diner right next door. As I'm pulling out my toothbrush and face wash from my suitcase I take a look around my room. It's pretty standard. There is deep green carpeting on the floor, chosen I'm sure, because on that color you can hardly see any stains. The walls are stucco and were at one time white, but now look sort of dingy and yellow. The beds are made of cheap plywood and have the same, disgusting, flowered comforter you see in every motel room and wonder who's grandma picked it out. There is also of course a lovely painting above the bed of some fields and cottages, possibly painted by the owners wife. I then realize that this is my first time in a hotel room by myself. It's a strange feeling. I could invite anyone in I feel like. I could hire a stripper. I could stay out all night and sit in a field if I wanted. The freedom is nice, and I revel in it as I watch a pay-per-view movie and eat some Domino's pizza. I wake up the next morning to an incessant beeping noise that sounds like a bomb getting ready to explode. I pick up my cell phone and throw it across the room, and the beeping stops. I've never been much of a morning person. Actually I'm the opposite of a morning person. I am like a morning demon. In high school my mom was so sick of waking me up every morning only to be pelted by whatever objects were within reach of me without my actually having to move, that she would just call my phone over and over again until I woke up. Effective, and yet my phone has never been the same since. I decide to get dressed and stop by the diner for breakfast on my way back to the road. I walk in and am slightly taken aback by how crowded it is. The town is so small and deserted I was beginning to think I was the only one in this town. I take a seat in a booth and look over a menu. Being a vegan is great, but at places like this it can be a little rough. There is one whole side devoted entirely to eggs. I decide on a fruit dish, bagel, and a cup of coffee, and finally am able to sit back and get a good look at this place. It's Small. There are about 6 booths running back to back on the left, and 10 stools up at the counter. It looks like a 5 year old built the place with his lincoln logs, but it has a nice homey feel, and I like it. My waitress finally walks over to my table and says, "Names Betty. what'll you have this morning darlin'?" She's wearing a lacy white apron around her waist, and a pink flowered dress underneath. She's probably about thirty years old but she looks like she could be forty-five with all the stress that is carved into her face. Her blond hair is thick and teased, and she's wearing the brightest pink lipstick I've ever seen, but you can tell she could be gorgeous if things were different. I immediately like her. I think it it's her accent. For some reason, Southern accents have always made me feel calm, and less anxious. "I think I'll have a fruit cup, a plain bagel, and a cup of coffee." I say. "Alright. Be right up." She walks behind a swinging door, and a few minutes later shes back with my food and pouring my coffee. "So where you from?" she asks. "St.Louis, Missouri. Howd you know I wasn't from around here?" "I've lived here all my life. Everyone knows everyone in this town." "Oh. Yeah, I just left home yesterday. I'm about to get back on the road." "Where you headed?" "No clue. I just wanted to go...somewhere. I wanted to drive until I ended up where I was meant to be. I wanted to have an adventure." I say proudly. I've been dreaming of this trip for a ling time, and now that it's happening I'm proud of myself for making it work. "Wow. That's brave. It sounds exciting. The most exciting thing that happens here is the grassfield festival." She says with a little laugh. "The grassfield festival?" "Yeah, It's a huge deal here. We're always having festivals and things, but the grassfield festival is the best. Everyone brings their own picnic baskets and blankets, and there are games, and a BBQ. At night there's a bon fire, and when it gets dark enough out that you can see the stars everyone finds one and makes a wish on it, at the exact same time. It's kind of silly, but I've done it since I was a little girl. It always feels...well magical." "That doesn't sound silly, it sounds great! It must be nice doing things with everyone in the town, and knowing everyone. Like a humongous family." "It is. Well, except when you do something stupid and everyone in town knows about it 15 minutes later." she smiles, and we laugh and talk together a little longer about small town life, and my road trip." "You know," Betty says, "The grassfield festival is this weekend. Why don't you hang around and see it?" "I don't know... I should really get back on the road..." I say with a sigh. "Now wait just a minute. The road is not going to leave. It will still be there when you decide to get back on it, and wasn't the whole point of this trip to go with the flow? To see what happens, and experience new places and things?" "Well...." I think about it for a minute. She's right. That is exactly what this trip is about, and this could be really fun. "I don't know." I say. "I didn't bring much money. I'm not sure I could afford to stay in the motel till this weekend..." "You can stay with me." "What?" I ask. I wasn't expecting this generosity and it takes me off guard. "Yeah. I mean my house isn't very big, but it's certainly big enough for two people. I have a guest room set up and everything. Really, It's no big deal. Actually It could be kind of fun having another girl in the house." "Um.....Well alright then. That sounds great! thanks." "Okay. Well you finish eating your breakfast, and go over to the motel to get your stuff. My shifts over at one, and I can meet you over there then." "Sounds good. see you then." She walks away, and I sit for awhile wondering if I made the right choice. Staying with someone you don't know isn't the safest idea, and this detour was never part of my fantasy trip. Or was it? Wasn't this what I was looking for? Wasn't this exactly what I left home to find? I guess I'm about to find out. |