On the Move

“Jamie, why are your belongings still unpacked? The movers will be here in less than an hour!” Leanne yelled, slightly annoyed.

Jamie sighed and said, “I’m tired of moving, Mom. I don’t want to start all over again. I like it here.”

Leanne, just shy of 36 years old, was fit and naturally beautiful. A single mother to Jamie. She had her when she was just 19 in a small town in Iowa. The two of them were never in one place for long. Leanne was a police officer and it required her to relocate every two years - mostly when life was getting comfortable for Jamie. Leanne joined the police academy when Jamie was two.

“You know the drill, Jamie. This is my job and it’s not a choice I get to make,” said Leanne.

Jamie sat down on her springy bed that she learned to love, and took a look around her temporary bedroom. Port Pineville had been Jamie’s favourite place. It was 2 hours southeast of Seattle and was thick with luscious maple trees, all the wildlife you could imagine and had an old, ancient feel to it. The people were nice, sometimes overly nice. They had friendly waves and warm smiles. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and homemade bread filled Main Street and it reminded Jamie of when she spent the summers at her grandparent’s farm back in Iowa when she was a child. 

 “I know, I know. I’ll start packing,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you. You’ll adjust to our new home in time, just like you always do.” Leanne said, as she filled the last box with newspaper.

Leanne closed the door behind her and Jamie took one last look at the place she called home for the last two years. They hopped in the old muscle car that Leanne’s parents had left her when they passed away. She named her Betty. Betty was a black 1971 Chevelle and a pig on gas.

“Are you ready?” Leanne asked.

“I guess so,” Jamie replied while holding back tears.

Main Street was the only way in and out of Port Pineville – unless you wanted to drive down old dirt roads that had now been overgrown with wild flowers and broken tree stumps. Jamie loved driving down Main Street, it was always the busiest spot in town – full of chit chat, ice cream and teenage boys doing burnouts after curfew.

As they turned onto the only road leading them to their new home, they drove by the big Cathedral on the right. Jamie and her mother were never the religious type but she always admired the beauty that cathedrals held. The old church, slightly slanted to the left, always made her feel safe. The stained-glass windows always left a colorful display of light that reflected off the disco ball hanging outside Peters Thrift & Such.

“Look! There’s Mrs. Peters. She’s waving at us.” said Leanne.

Jamie cranked down her window and shouted, “Goodbye, Mrs. Peters. We will miss you!”

Mrs. Peters owned the thrift store in town. A widow who had recently lost her husband. She had polite eyes and liked to push her glasses back up her nose because they were too big for her. Jamie remembered Mr. Peters. He always had a way with words. He could sell anything. Since he had died, Mrs. Peters had such an eagerness to sell whatever she could. Jamie knew she wanted to keep his legacy alive through the store and she didn't want to fail him. Mrs. Peters sold her house after he had passed and moved into the Lady Smith Inn.

The Lady Smith Inn, historic and grand – was named after Maria Smiths great, great, grandmother. Jamie always wondered what type of people were inside (other than Mrs. Peters). It was an off-white Victorian home that had 6 guest rooms inside and travellers were able to rent them for cheap. Miss Smith, well into her 50s – was the 4^th generation to take over the Inn. She took care of her guests like they were her own family. Jamie often wondered if that was why she was never married. Maybe she was content having so many people drifting in and out of her life – just like the ocean tide. Miss Smith always made hot tea for the four moms who sat out by the fountain.

“The four moms” as Jamie liked to call them, always met at the big fountain outside the Lady Smith Inn when they found the time. In between school, dance lessons, hockey lessons, grocery shopping and whatever else was on their long to-do list that day. This was their release. Jamie enjoyed watching them laugh until they cried. Which was often. The women always looked so happy and free. Jamie longed for this kind of friendship. Everlasting.

As Leanne and Jamie made their way down Main Street, the noises were starting to fade. Old man Badgley was outside, standing in front of his house. This was his usual place. He was watering his garden, as he did at the same time every day. Jamie thought back to the time she was riding her bike by his house and she stopped and joked, “You never have your shoes on, Mr. Badgley!” and he told her, “I enjoy the earth underneath my feet, young one!” She laughed and continued on her way and he carried on playing the harmonica – barefoot. Jamie waved. She felt a heaviness in her chest. She knew this would be the last time she would ever see him. 

They were now coming up to her favourite spot. The “Old Page” was a used bookstore that Jamie spent most of her time in when she wasn't in school. She never understood why the store sat alone on the outskirts of town where there were hardly any people – but maybe that was the point. Maybe the owner enjoyed the quiet, just as she had.

As they drove by, Jamie could see him in the window. She never did catch his name. She was always too shy. He had a crooked smile, mysterious dark eyes and loved the smell of old books. He always wore two different shoelaces in his shoes and had the same sweater in different shades of blue. He always had more than one book that he was reading. Jamie once overheard him telling someone it was because, “You never know what kind of mood you’re going to be in.”

She would miss him the most. His knowledge of all the things she loved without ever having to ask.

As she looked behind her to get one last glimpse of Port Pineville, the sun was peeking through the rain clouds - as if it were meant to be. She then whispered her last, "See ya later."