Traveling to Little Rock

Drifting by, passing cars, I think about our destination ahead of us. Tall, thin trees still decorated with pine needles, thick wilderness running parallel to the roads. I sigh, content; and slightly uncomfortable, sitting in the same position for the past three hours.

“How much longer?” My sister complains.

“Long enough.” My dad retorts, focusing on the road.

I let out a silent chuckle, amused. My gaze shifts back to the blurring window to my right, drowning out the distant babble of my family. Thoughts turn to concerns, and within minutes I am pulling out my Government textbook and looking up answers to the test review.

The car jerks, messing up the word I was writing and I scowl, agitated. Noise sounds throughout the car and me and my sister look at each other and then slowly turn our attention to the airstream trailer being pulled by our Jeep. We exchange nervous looks as I go back to doing my homework and she presses play on her portable DVD player.

I hope this thing can handle it. I thought, the rumbles in my stomach getting more frequent…

I had woken up that morning, wide awake, and that’s a good thing, except it was at 3:45 AM. I laid there until 4:00 AM when I realized sleep wouldn’t come and it was time to start my day. I transformed into a busy bee. My pencil jerked and marked across the page, finishing a paper. Fingers flew across my laptop keyboard. Laundry was conquered.

So far so good.

Hours later, after packing up my car with necessities for my trip, I attend my class. The professor drones on about World War I and the transition into World War II when the clock ticks 11:50, time to go. I’m the first one out, racing down the steps of the Weir building and making my way in a brisk walk that could almost be considered a trot. Jumping behind the wheel of my truck, I took off towards Boerne to meet up with my family, and two hours later, my parents, sister and I are on our way to Arkansas…

Now, the last time I had eaten was at 4:00 so… I was hungry. After stopping to eat we arrived at a trailer park to stay for the night, still three and a half hours away from our destination. A debate spurred about sleeping arrangements and I found myself wrapped up in thin sheets in the tiny bed of the camper along with my mother. My sister was graced with the floor, scrunched up in an oversized camouflage sleeping bag, and my father, my poor father had to sleep in the jeep, no heater, with the only comfort of our Boston terrier, Dottie.

Every time one of us moved everyone felt it. At some point I conked out, sleeping through the early riser of a motorcyclist and a hail/rain downpour. I must have been more tired than I had realized.

We arose, we feasted on breakfast from an unfamiliar fast food joint and we pulled up to the house of my great grandmother Velma Vanlandingham. Cousins and relatives spurted from the door as we unloaded and secured the trailer and I found myself in a house I had played in as a child. Memories of being sprawled out in the front room with second cousins watching television came to mind. I made my way past and came to one of the two bedrooms of the small house and immediately went back in time when Pokémon was all the rage, when I first started my collection.

Setting my luggage down and putting my thoughts away, I got ready. After my brisk shower in the only bathroom of the house, I primped my hair and found myself looking ridiculous in a nice black V-cut shirt and matching skirt. I didn’t look good in skirts, I had forgotten. Sticking one hand out into the clammy chill had me shivering and damp, wheeling back to the sheltered warmth of inside.

Chatting with my mom, I found that none of us were completely prepared for the crisp weather, our luggage composed of early spring clothes, and our bodies ready for the near hot weather of Texas. Looking at my attire, my mother thought to herself, leaving me to standing, twirling, and letting her get a better look at me.

“Okay, you can wear your jeans.” She said. I sighed in relief, back on home ground. I was out of that skirt and into my jeans so fast and I had a big smile plastered on my face because of it.

My Aunt, Uncle and cousins showed up not an hour later and I smiled, grateful for more familiar faces. Others showed up and I avoided contact, not knowing how I was related to them. They were busy talking to my folks so… it wasn’t like I was shunning them or ignoring them. I just didn’t know how to respond to them so I nodded and smiled politely.

We were ready to go to the party. It was my great grandmother’s ninetieth birthday and I was told to prepare for southern drawls and strangers I was somehow related to. Piling into the cars, we headed to a church where the celebration was to be held. After a couple of turns, cruising past lush woods and country houses, we turned into the little parking lot and entered the church. So many old people hobbled around in the large room. Old people we didn’t know! I smiled and nodded as I was introduced and answered the polite questions they asked.

“You Tracy’s child?”

“Are you going to school?”

“What year are you?”

“Who’s child are you again?”

An hour passed before the ‘clicks’ began to form and I’m not proud to say that I was in one of them. All my cousins and I clustered together like a security blanket from the others we didn’t know. Two lone pairs of a brother and sister talked amongst themselves vs. our large group of six. One of them, a guy, looked to be about my age while the other’s appeared to range from ten to fifteen.

As more people began to arrive, I heard my sister and two female cousins burst out laughing, talking about something called duck dynasty. I turned toward the entrance and saw this tall guy with a long white beard and mustache entered the church. We got bored, really bored. There was nothing to do but have polite conversation with a bunch of distant cousins and old people! But it wasn’t about me. It was about Granny and her birthday. So I endured and we eventually decided to explore.

We trekked down a long hallway that appeared to be a children’s Sunday school. We went from room to room examining the childish toys and laughing at the puny chairs. We turned the corner of the hallway and found the bathrooms which I proceeded to quickly use.

On exiting the restrooms I heard my cousin’s Kyle and Taylor talking down another hallway. I followed it until I came across them playing with a basketball and small hoop amongst the church storage consisting of baby high chairs, sports equipment and boxes of art supplies. I watched for a while before we left and took our seats at long white tables with foldable chairs. People began to get food and take seats and soon we were bored again and just started talking about random stuff when the conversation landed on the game truth or dare. After a few humorous truths from Kyle and Taylor, I decided to get involved.

Everyone kept saying truth when out of nowhere, Kyle said dare. Taylor and I looked at each other and grinned.

“You said dare, Kyle.” Taylor said pointing.

“You said dare!” I said, backing him up.

“Okay!” Taylor thought, “I dare you to go into the girl’s bathroom and take a crap,” laugher “and don’t flush!” Kyle burst out laughing. After a while, he agreed to the humorous feat.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” He said. Marching down one of the hallways, we watched him turn the corner to the bathrooms. Taylor and I were all smiles, holding back chuckles.

“He’s going to do it! He’s going to actually do it!” Taylor said laughing.

“I know!” I said. Laughing just as hard.

Twenty-five minutes later and here comes Kyle, bouncing down the hallway with a smile on his face.

“Did you do it?” Taylor asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m going to verify.” I said giggling.

I was stopped in the middle of the hallway when Taylor told me that that he didn’t do it in the girls bathroom. He took a deuce in the men’s restroom and didn’t flush. An hour later when the three of us went back down the hallway to play with the basketball and hoop again when my sister and two female cousins came bursting forward snickering, informing us that our uncle Jeff, Taylor’s father, had walked into the bathroom and seen Kyle’s turds. Of course, being mischievous little teen girls they had to tell on Kyle and he ended up getting a stern talk from his uncle.

We went exploring again only this time we noticed an absence of the constant rumble of voices coming from the main room. Taylor, Kyle and I scurried back to find my father giving a speech. We humbly took our seats trying not to be seen as my dad read something of a poem to the group of seventy-two people, complementing my great grandmother. At the end, everybody clapped and Granny was given what appeared to be a plaque.

More time went by as we chatted and socialized amongst the crowd, eating finger foods and cake. Elderly people in billowy coats covering their frail bodies mingled with certain family members and I watched as Granny opened her presents, one of them being what looked like a crystal bowl. My aunt Shannon then came up to us, the younger generation, and introduced us to a young seventh grade girl and her father. They were nice, accepting us as family no matter how distant they may be. In this case, she was my fourth cousin and he was my third.

All of a sudden there came a clatter from down one of the hallways and the large room grew silent as everybody relaxed from their scare. My cousin Kyle and a little boy named Beb appeared next to the fallen basketball hoop as a few people observed the damage. There was no damage, the cause being the little boy named Beb, throwing the basketball too hard at the goal. What came next, I would imagine as a light chew out by a few elders, as we continued to talk to my distant cousins.

People began to clean up, putting away food and folding up chairs and pictures with Granny were arranged and taken. Crowding back in the cars, we made our way back to the small house where everybody, well mostly everybody, crowed in.

The front room was filled with people and my parents and most of my closer relatives left to visit the cemetery where a passed on relative resided. Taylor, Beb, Kyle and I played football in the front yard. Now, I can throw a football but I don’t know how to play so I had to have big football playing expert Taylor teach me. As we played, we all realized that I sucked. It would have been better had Beb not been talking down to me as if I was an imbecile.

Maybe it was because I was a girl or maybe it was just because he thought I was dumb but I finally just looked at him and said, “You don’t have to talk to me as if I’m stupid, I understand what you’re saying.” I’d like to say he shut up after that but he didn’t and when the kid wasn’t looking, my cousin Taylor mouthed to me that he was weird. Kyle caught it and we laughed, Beb joining in even though he didn’t know what we were laughing about. After our team, Taylor and I, beat our opponent, Kyle and Beb, I was winded and decided to go inside just as my sister and first cousins were coming outside with Beb’s sister. I huddled into the crowded front room, grabbed my phone and sat in the kitchen with my grandfather and another unfamiliar man.

I learned that he was a college professor with an interest in Science fiction and writers. I told him about my aspirations and we discussed a broad range of topics relating to the two. He was a very intelligent guy, you could just tell by the way he spoke and I was surprised to find out that his son was eleven year old Beb. I would not have guessed such an obvious brainiac could have spawned such an idiot child. People left, little by little and more seats became available. I grabbed my laptop and began to tell my adventure of Little Rock, Arkansas. I tuned in to the conversation every now and then, hearing about car mechanics from the men and the women bragging and gossiping about their children to the elders. I learned that Mr. braniac professor took a trip to China and that he was married to a plump woman to his left. Granny shifted from the center of attention to a sideline conversation and then back to the center of attention that I lost track of what everybody was talking about.

Time passed and soon I found that everybody had gone. Night had fallen and it was time to get ready for bed. I snapped my computer closed and stood up from the couch so that the pull out bed could be unfolded. My parents stayed in the camper parked in the driveway, my grandparents stayed in the extra bedroom, Granny got her own room and that left my cousins Kyle and Hannah, my sister and I in the front room. Hannah and Kat got the pull out bed, their delicate backs too good for the floor while Kyle and I were given warm sleeping bags and a thin layer of carpet separating us from the hard floor. An idea was born as I watched Kyle fiddle with the cushions of the couch.

“Hey Kyle,” I said, “Why don’t you put your sleeping bag on the couch cushions and sleep like that?” A wave of understanding hit Kyle’s twelve year old face.

“Ohhh. I get what you’re saying. That’s a good idea.” He grinned as he began to arrange his now more comfortable bed. Within minutes we were all cuddled up in our sleeping positions when the jokes and laughter began to burst out. Phones were brought out, videos were watched, giggles shared, forcing my eyes to stay wide open for at least an hour. Kyle wiggled around in his sleeping bag like a worm and I copied him making more giggles sound from the pull out bed a few feet away. Kyle did the worm professionally and I just laughed, unable to copy. They grew louder and louder as time ticked by and I was surprised my grandparents didn’t come in and tell us to shut up.

I finally got tired of it so I sat up in my sleeping bag, unblinking, staring down the three children. First of all I scared the crap out of them because I apparently looked like a demon according to Kat with her phone camera pointed at me, and second of all, I had jerked up so quickly that none of them were expecting it.

Eventually the house went silent and somewhere far out in the distance, a train was blowing its whistle. My face nuzzled into the sleeping bag and I hugged my pillow tightly as I imagined myself going back in time to where train whistles were more frequent and life simpler.

I awoke the next morning in a daze as my phone bonked out the familiar chime that always tells me to get up. I hit the snooze only for a few moments when everybody began to stir. Clothes were thrown on, bags packed, and the room was put back together. Cars were loaded, and potty breaks were taken. My father came out of the bathroom grinning and I immediately knew what was up.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you, Kyle.” My father choked out. He entered anyway.

“Oh my God!” We heard from behind the closed door.

“Hehehehehehehehe.” My dad laughed with the knowledge that Kyle had just taken a whiff of his essence. I grinned myself, feeling sorry for him. I watched as Kyle left the bathroom and my mother entered.

“Ewww, Kyle! What did you eat!” She exclaimed.

“It wasn’t me!” He said offensively. I laughed.

With the trailer secured to the jeep and both cars packed we were off at 6:30 AM, my grandparents and cousins in the other car. We stopped at a McDonalds for breakfast, yuck! We passed beautiful countryside and slowly crossed the Texas border.

I had never been so happy to be back in my home state. Wide open fields and warmer weather awaited us. Hours droned on. Several stops were made for hungry tummies, small bladders and thirsty cars. At last we turned into the driveway, home.

The car was unloaded of everything not mine for I still had to make the trek back to school. Daylight was still awake for at least a few more hours otherwise the remaining leg of my trip was to be driven in darkness. Nervousness clutched at my insides as inexperience gnawed at my mind. I had never driven the jeep. Its aerodynamic form, sensitive steering and touchy breaks had me intimidated.

Adjusting the mirrors and seat I took off on a test drive around the neighborhood to get the feel of the alien contraption. Zooming around corners and making a few slamming-on-the-break stops I was ready.

I drove, stiff spined, palms perspiring on the steering wheel. Stoplights came and went and the highway was in sight. I tested the gas and discovered the simplicity it took to pass the slower cars. I might as well have been flying. A grin spread across my face as the jeep became a speed demon on the road. I took my exit, recovered from my adrenaline high, and arrived at Schreiner University.

Opening my door and greeting my roommate, I went straight to my room and collapsed on my much missed bed and drifted off to sleep, knowing I had a busy week ahead of me.

True Story.