Sophia's Jaunt

When she came to understand English better, Sophia found it odd that the town was named Cherryfield, yet it advertised itself as the blueberry capital of the world. She’d come to the rural town from Sicily on the death of her husband to be near her son Michael and his family. She enjoyed helping with the children, but within a year the son’s job had changed and the family moved away to Washington State on the other side of the country. Sophia didn’t have another big move left in her so she stayed. 

As the only Italian in town, Sophia came to realize she was a curiosity, and while she was not actively shunned neither was she customarily invited to community events. At fifty she was an active woman, so that after many empty days, she volunteered at the blood donor clinic to improve her English and meet people. 

For fifteen years Sophia cycled backwards and forwards to the clinic every weekday, except when the Maine weather was bad and one of the nurses would drive her. She learned English and strategic phrases sufficiently well to greet and assist donors. She had also made one friend, Bridget Sutton, a woman of Irish descent and temperament. 

Other than they were both born elsewhere and were non-practicing Catholics, the women had nothing in common. “Like chalk and cheese,” Bridget would say. Bridget was outgoing and always involved in one activity or the other, always over-extended and in a rush. Sophia meanwhile never went anywhere and could meander on her bicycle, as the only thing waiting at home for her was the cat that she’d had since a kitten when she’d first arrived. On weekends she shopped, cleaned and did her laundry and looked forward to going back to the clinic on Mondays when she derived vicarious pleasure from Bridget’s weekend.

This particular Monday Sophia had no sooner stepped through the clinic door than Bridget swatted her with a magazine. ‘You and me, girlfriend, We’re going to take a little trip. See a show. You’re going to live a little. Check this out’ and she pointed to an article and continued talking and looking over her shoulder while Sophia scanned the story about the famous Italian opera singer and his current world tour. ‘He’s your favorite, isn’t he? I’m sure you said you’d seen him in person in Italy…New York is only a hop skip and jump away. What do you say?’ Sophia tried to think of a thousand reasons why she couldn’t go, but they all sounded lame in her head, Bridget was excited and happy, so she told her she would think about it, while not meaning to. The rest of her day was spent imagining excuses to get out of the trip.

When Sophia arrived home that evening, the cat was noticeably absent. Normally Leila would be rubbing herself around her legs and miaowing in welcome before she’d even made it through the door. Sophia looked into the kitchen to see the bowls apparently untouched. She called her name and clicked her tongue but the cat did not come. 

Sophia continued searching the house and calling her name but it was not until she went out onto the back porch that she found Leila laid out unmoving. The cat had shown no sign of being unwell other than being off her food for a couple of days, which was not unusual. Sophia sat down on the deck next to Leila and tried to stroke her long black fur and encourage her back to life but the cat was rigid and cold and it felt wrong. Sophia went back into the house to find a shopping bag she no longer used, wrapped that inside a plastic bag and then placed the cat gently in the deep freeze until she could think of the right time and place to deal with her. She was numb and did not cry that night. After a while she realized that responsibility for the cat was the last excuse holding her back.

When she returned to the clinic the next day and before the doors opened to the public and she changed her mind, Sophia quickly told Bridget that she would go. Bridget immediately took to her phone to secure the tickets, flights and hotel. Sophia felt her stomach lurch but soon took to daydreaming about the trip and seeing the famous opera singer again. Her mind went back to Italy when she was young and the excitement re-awakened. Now she could not wait for the day to come when she would find herself on the plane headed to New York.  

She had taken her black suitcase down from the shelf from where she’d placed it when she had come from Italy and dusted it off. It emitted a mildly stale odour when unzipped so she left the lid open for a few days. Now it was packed and ready. On Bridget’s advice she had bought a neon green ribbon from the dollar store and tied it to the handle to distinguish it. Her dreams at night intensified as the day got closer.

Three days before the trip Bridget started to sneeze and complained of feeling tired. The next day she had a mild headache and a runny nose, and the day before the trip was not at work. Sophia rode by on the way home to find Bridget surrounded by friends and family well and truly sick in bed with the flu or something like it. She was not needed. Through her fever, Bridget told her to find someone else as she would have to go without her. But there was no-one else. 

Sophia agonized. It was ridiculous. She could not imagine going out to the airport, taking the flight, finding the hotel and then attending the event all by herself. This one thing she had allowed herself to dream about after all these years and it was falling apart. Her stomach clenched. She paced. Exhausted, she went to bed, leaving the ultimate decision to the day.

Sophia sat in her Brooklyn apartment thinking back on that time. She remembered waking, burying the cat in the backyard and robotically taking the cab to the airport with dirt still on her shoes. She recalled looking out the plane at the fields on take off while it registered that there was nothing left for her in the town. The further they flew the more completely it left her mind. She hardly paid attention when the famous singer stepped on the stage, so busy was she making plans for the future in the vast exciting city.

She'd engaged a real estate agent back in Cherryfield and priced the house low to sell. She'd asked Bridget to send her personal papers and photos on and choose anything from the furniture and other things from the house before having the remainder picked up by charity. She’d rented in the Sunset Park area, with its waterfront restaurants, shopping, cobblestone streets and some of the city’s best views. Why, she could even see the Statue of Liberty from here. The bachelor apartment was all she needed as she did not want visitors. The money wouldn't last forever, but then neither would she.