Road trip to the past

Walter and Joan waited at the local IHOP. They had been excited and arrived early not because of the fluffy French toast instead their excitement stemmed from the adventure they were about to start. They were meeting with a couple of friends for a 10-day road trip up north to see the fall colors. Each year they would talk about it but so far no one had ever actually made any plans. Joan had decided that this would be the year to go. “Come heck or high water, I’m going.” Her husband Walter knew better than to try to change her mind. She had been watching an old movie from 1985 about a group of old people who had found a sort of fountain of youth by swimming in a pool with aliens. Then and there she had begun writing her bucket list and right on top was “see the fall colors.” That was before the diagnosis. Now she was absolutely adamant about getting through her list. 

Last Tuesday, during Bible study, Joan told her friends about the list of plans. They had embraced her with love and promised to help whenever they could. Henry and Olivia were the first to volunteer. They both grew up in Texas and as teenagers, their families had taken road trips up into Virginia to see the trees and the colors of the autumn leaves. Unlike Henry and Olivia, Joan came from a poor family. Her family scratched out a living growing crops down near the Texas-New Mexico border. As she sipped her coffee Joan reminisced about those dirt crops where she spent so many hours picking out rocks and guiding a horse and plow. They had been poor but those were some of her happiest memories.

Outside they could hear another motorcycle pull into the parking lot. Soon Henry pulled open the door for Olivia, both were cheerful they looked just as excited too. Hugs all around then they sat and ordered breakfast too. After the waitress cleared away the dirty dishes Joan began laying out the itinerary. “Rule #1 no one is allowed to mention time. No looking at our phones. No checking our watches. We are absolutely going by the seat of our pants and playing it by ear,” Joan explained. She locked eyes with each person at the table and received both smiles and heads nodding in agreement. “Rule #2 no one is to ask me ‘how I’m feeling?’ or ‘Do you need to sit down for a minute?’ because for the next ten days I want to be treated like a normal person. So no side glances between you guys behind my back. Yes, I agree it isn’t fair that I have this tumor but if the doctors say they can’t remove it then we will pretend it isn’t there. Do you understand?” More heads were nodding but the smiles had slid from their faces a little. “I looked it up last night on my computer. It shows a 23-hour drive but if we are playing it by ear maybe we will just ride 6-8 hours a day plus stopping every hour for pee pee breaks. Henry smiled knowing his bladder would be grateful for the frequent breaks. They talked a little longer about the details of the ride and then were ready to go.

They paid for their meals and thanked the staff. The men get on the motorcycles first then assist the ladies in getting comfortable. Helmets were put on and they were off to begin Joan’s adventure. She waved goodbye to San Antonio, and they began riding east on Highway 10 heading towards Houston. 

They stopped when they pleased not rushing each other. Lunch was a deli sandwich from a travel plaza. They sat outside on a bench and enjoyed chatting with one another about nothing in particular. Before they left Walter bought himself a new handkerchief and Henry found himself a book in the discount bin. “John Saul has a way of keeping me awake like no other writer.” Olivia just rolled her eyes at him. She loved the fact that he was a bookworm even though they didn't always agree on the genre.

By the time they reached Lafayette, Louisiana they were ready to find a place for the night. They got two rooms at the Drury Inn & Suites after having dinner at Cracker Barrel. Before bed, they had a small Bible study together then slipped into pajamas and went to sleep.

The next morning they returned to Cracker Barrel for breakfast. Olivia had purchased a map. She now had it splayed out on the table. “If we take 55 north we can go through Jackson MS up into Memphis then follow Interstate 40 across Tennessee, maybe stop in Nashville and take in some real good bluegrass music. Look here,” she pointed to Knoxville, “we would take I-81 then follow route 460 to I-85 and ta-da Richmond Virginia.” Henry agreed, “I’ll do anything to avoid driving through Atlanta.” They folded up the map and were back on the road. They came to an interchange and headed north on 55 just as planned. They had been on the road for almost two hours when Henry’s bike started acting up. They pulled into a Chevron station and the men began looking it over. Everything checked out fine but they decided to take route 51 North because it was more populated and easier to find help if needed. They hadn’t traveled far when she got a craving for pizza and it reminded Joan that she had eaten a small breakfast. They made a left onto Black Cat Rd and pulled into the Hunt Brothers Pizza place but as they parked Joan changed her mind. There was a food stand on wheels. “Let’s give that a try.” Henry and Olivia stop in their tracks. “That is not a good idea.” Walter agreed saying, “I see a future of diarrhea and vomiting if we eat there.” Joan ignored them all and approached the cute food truck. A short little old black woman stood behind the counter. Her face was creased with years of crow's feet and laugh lines. The woman's silver-white hair was neatly held down with a hair net. She wore fresh clean gloves and a genuine smile. Everything about the food truck was clean and tidy. “Well good day," the short old lady said to Joan, "How are you doing? What brings you to our little town?” Without meaning to, Joan began to unload everything onto this stranger. She felt so comfortable that she found herself telling the other woman all about the road trip and why she had started her crazy bucket list. It felt like time stopped. The other three people stayed back by the motorcycles so it felt like the universe had made a pocket of time just for these two women. When she had emptied herself, nothing else was left to say, the old woman took off her gloves and patted Joan's hand. "You need some of my special cherry pie." Tears stained Joan’s face as she watched the old woman put on new gloves and prepare four slices of pie. “Don’t you waste anymore more tears on that nasty tumor.” She pushed the plates of cherry desserts toward Joan saying, “Go enjoy the life you have left.” Smiling from the kindness she had been shown, Joan gave the woman $20 and then called the group over. They each took a plate and fork and sat under a shady tree where several tables and benches had been arranged. Having a difficult time hiding his concern, Walter asked Joan in a hushed voice, “What was all that about?” She kept her eyes down, a little embarrassed. “I guess we just had a special connection for a moment.” Olivia piped up, “Probably all the stress you’ve been feeling.” They ate the pie in silence. It was really amazing. The tart cherries and the buttery flaky crust made Joan feel like she had when she was a kid. The taste reminded her of Christmases of long ago. She was reminded of cold days and hot cocoa. Ice skating and snowball fights. Lost in her own thoughts she must have fallen asleep for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she was back on the family farm. She wore her old brown sweater and black trousers with wool socks and snow boots. As she looked around she was knocked off her feet by a clumsy black and white dog. “Sally?” Joan muttered in disbelief. The dog paused when she heard her name then bounded back over to play in the snow at Joan’s feet. From behind she felt more than heard the presence of their old bay. He nickered and pawed at the snow a little. “What was in that pie?”