Venturing into the Unknown

After 3 years of writing in the Big Yellow House, I'm really venturing into fiction...and the unknown. I've written 2 parts of a story and I'm not sure where it's going. It's exciting, and intimidating...but I'm safe in that room and so, I write. This is FUN!
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PART 1

She glanced one last time in the rearview mirror, taking a mental photograph of the white lighthouse as it disappeared from view. She heard a whine from the backseat.

"It's OK, Sadie. It's OK."

She turned up the radio and Bruce Springsteen's voice mingled with the sea air. "It's going to be OK," she repeated.

She drove down the main street of town, not daring to look out the window for fear she'd catch someone's eye, and slid into the left lane to turn for the highway, but changed her mind and jerked the car to the right, toward the water.

Hopping out of the car, she grabbed her camera bag from the backseat. She wanted to take Sadie with her, but she know that her canine companion would want to play in the surf. That was not an option. Pulling her Yankee cap down further over her eyes, she jogged to the boardwalk and snapped a few photos of the rickety, weathered wood, the boardwalk ice cream shop, the turned down lifeguard chairs lying in the sand, and the waves. Her legs ached to dip into the water, but she knew she couldn't. After turning for a last long shot of the lighthouse, blurry through her tears, she ran back to the car, wiping her eyes, and pulled out onto the street. She pointing her jeep towards the highway, closed the windows and flipped on the AC--she didn't want to smell the salt and sand anymore.

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PART 2 (You should know that our prompt/challenge was to use these 5 objects in our story: stringless guitar, pizza cutter, duffel bag, Bible, bonzai tree.)

By the time she hit the Jersey Turnpike, the Bruce Springsteen CD had played through. She reached into the pile of CDs next to her and grabbed one, trading it for Bruce without even looking. The unmistakable low strings of Crooked Still filled the car--this would work. Her phone buzzed in the cupholder beside her. She ignored it and kept driving. Ten minutes later, it rang again. She ignored it and turned up the music.

As she approached the Delaware Memorial Bridge, she realized she hadn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. She pulled off the highway into the Clara Barton Rest Stop. Opening the trunk, she pushed aside her sad, stringless guitar. A year and a half ago, just a few weeks after bringing Sadie home, she'd been upstairs when she hear the horrible crash of her guitar hitting the floor, strings vibrating painfully. The sound itself scared Sadie away before she could do any permanent damage. She'd found the puppy backed int a corner, growling at the fallen guitar with 4 snapped strings. Though she'd never gotten around to restringing it, she'd tossed it in the car at the last minute--maybe she'd string it on this trip. She pulled Sadie's red leash out of one of the duffel bags jammed in the trunk.

"C'mon, girl," she said. She let Sadie stretch her legs for a few minuts before leading her back to the car. "I'll be right back, " she said, rubbing the dog behind her golden ears and checking the travel bowl to make sure there was still water inside before shutting the door and jogging inside.

About half an hour into the drive, she'd realized she was squinting--and that her sunglasses were back on the kitchen table. Just inside the doors, under a sign that read "Clara Barton Rest Stop. Welcome to the Garden State," was a cart covered in sunglasses. She plucked a pair of plastic $18 shades and set them down next to the register, in front of a tiny bonzai tree, handing the man a $20.

She turned and looked around the entryway at her options and settled on pizza. There was a bit of a line and she found herself staring blankly at the teenaged boy rolling the pizza cutter methodically over one pizza, then another and another.

"Ex-cuse me, ma'am." She looked up at the teenage girl rolling her eyes, "Can I help you?"

"Two cheese slices to go, a water and an iced tea, please"

She opened her wallet to hand the cashier money and realizing she only had 2 singles, pulled out her ATM card instead. The cashier smiled at her from behind big, round glasses and looked quickly at her card. "Thank you, C-Carries?"

She smiled. "It's Karis. Thanks," and took back her card.

"Karis? What is that?"

"It's Greek. Have a good one."

She walked back to the car shaking her head. Her father had wanted to name her Grace, but that was too plain and ordinary for her mother. They had settled on Karis, which meant grace in Greek, thereby honoring her father's idea and her mother's heritage. They thought it was perfect, but they didn't have to go through life spelling and pronouncing it for everyone.

When she got back to the car, she set her pizza on the passenger seat and stuck the drinks in the cupholders. She moved the cellphone, noting that she now had 4 missed calls, all from the same number. She tore off a piece of pizza crust and gave it to Sadie. It was the least she could do--the poor dog hated car rides.

An hour later, as she approached Baltimore, the phone rang again. Looking at the number, she flipped it open, taking a deep breath.

"Hi."

"Hi? Karis, I've been calling for hours. What the f - "

"I can't. Annie, I'm sorry, but I can't right now."

"Are you OK?"

"Please, An, I'll call you when I get there. Maybe I'll be able to explain. Please?"

"Alright. Be careful. Keep your phone charged. Lock your doors. Pull off if you get tired. ... I love you."

"Promise. I love you too."

She closed the phone and threw it on the floor of the backseat. It was time to switch CDs again.

She drove all night, with Billy Joel, Simon and Garfunkel, the Beatles and Carole King as her soundtrack. She stopped every few hours to let Sadie out and grab a drink or a snack. In Tennessee, she'd been accosted by a Bible salesman, reminding her that she was a sinner.

"Jesus saves!" he cried.

Sadie growled. The man followed Karis to her car, quoting from Scripture. Finally, she turned to face him.

"I'm Catholic," she said.

He stopped in his tracks. "Oh."

T13

1) I think I have an allergy issue. I was dizzy earlier this week. About this time last year, I had dizzy spells and it turned out to be fluid in my ears. I've been taking allergy meds and the heavy head is better.

2) I started triathlon training yesterday. 9 weeks from Sunday, I'll compete in the Falmouth Tri.

3) N and I went to see Tracy Grammer and Jim Henry at the Iron Horse last weekend. I always forget how much I love TG--her songs, her stories, her humor. It made me very excited for FRFF.

4) I booked my flight to L.A. this week. 9 days in June--I'm excited.

5) Even with missing 7 work days for L.A., I have 3 days to take before June 30!

6) I made an appointment with a podiatrist today. They want to x-ray my feet and were surprised to hear me say I've had many an x-ray of my foot. I don't think they are expecting a web-footed girl with scars from toe amputation, do you?

7) My cell phone is no longer holding a charge. It makes me very sad. I really don't want to spend money on a stinking new battery.

8) On a lunch errand today, I ran into one of my ball players and her mom. The mom needed a full 30 seconds to recognize me since I wasn't in shorts and a t-shirt.

9) I'm going home in a few weeks to be my parents' daughter's Confirmation sponsor. Katie and I have the same birthday--she was my 14th birthday present! I can't quite believe that the tiny infant I used to babysit is 15 years old!!

10) In the last few weeks, my email box has brought me many an email from my dearest darling Big Yellow friends--on an almost daily basis. This makes me exceedingly happy. And grateful.

11) This is a very busy time at work...someone joked recently that there isn't any truly "quiet" time. I tried to contradict her, but...well, she's right. Thankfully, I really do enjoy my job and I find the new responsibilities challenging. Even if I do daydream about 7 year olds.

12) I got a new print that I need to have framed. It has a watercolor of a bicycle and reads, "It has something to do with giving back while moving forward."

13) I am the 4th of 24 in my generation of cousins. Our parents' efforts to get us all together as children has paid off. We're friends. We enjoy one another's company. We get together just because, with our parents and without our parents. It's such a gift that our parents gave us.

Friends

Last weekend, I spent yet another fantastic 3 days with some of my most favorite people in all the world. We sang, ate, drank, danced, laughed and listened. On Friday night, we found our seats in a familiar dark corner room at our bar of choice, quizzing each other about state birds and celebrating TWO babies to arrive in November. On Saturday night, we all sat around in a cozy yellow living room and sang great songs and silly songs late into the night. Sunday afternoon, we didn't want it to end and ate slowly at Tokyo and Taipei, sharing pictures and quiet stories. We hugged and waved as we walked out of sight, promising we'd be in touch. That night, a flurry of emails flooded our inboxes as we relived the weekend and started our countdown til January.

For most of us, our reunion happened much sooner than we anticipated...and much sooner than we would have liked. Our friend, the always witty, perfectly sarcastic and compassionate Andrea Coller, died last Wednesday night after a long battle with cancer. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it when I heard the news--I closed my eyes and heard her voice in my ear, reading her story...and I heard our laughter in gales in response to her straight-forward storytelling. I didn't know Andrea well--but we've been on several writing retreats together now and in that familiar living room in a big yellow house, strong bonds formed even if we didn't talk for 6 months at a time. I consider myself lucky to count Andrea among my friends...but I was also a fan--of her writing, her music, her fashion and her one-of-a-kind personality.

About a year ago, Andrea began an essay on our retreat. I remember laughing so hard my face hurt while falling deeply in love with her writing. She submitted that piece to a contest for Glamour magazine...and out of thousands of entries, hers won. She was surprised. We, her writing companions, were not. The piece embodied brilliance. Last weekend, Andrea talked about how excited she was to see the article in print--and to get the feedback from the judges. Even though the magazine hit the newsstands over a week early, Andrea missed it. So we're celebrating it for (and with) her. Go buy the lovely Glamour with a botoxed Jessica Simpson on the cover. Open it to page 150. Or simply go here:

"I Want My Life Back"
Interview with Andrea

(And for that feedback Andrea wanted to read, you can go here and scroll about 2/3 of the way down to read judge Jennifer Weiner's thoughts on Andrea and the piece. Thanks, Matt.)

Andrea's funeral was on Monday. A group of us from retreat gathered in Northampton on Sunday to be together, remember Andrea and celebrate our friendships. I can't help but think Andrea was smiling down on us as we sang music she loved and splashed around in the hot tub. At the service, I looked to my left and my right and saw people for whom I am especially grateful. They make me laugh, they let me cry, they listen and they accept with open arms and hearts. We're lucky to have each other--and we were lucky to have Andrea. When January finally comes, we'll be popping TicTacs and drinking 007s...and we'll try to be as funny and as honest as she always was.

Enough said, sha la la la la la la la la la...