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I lost her.
I lost her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LUNA
1997
The sound of water trickling between rocks trails into my ears as the soft tunes ofThe Sound of Silenceby Simon and Garfunkel play in the background. My toes dip into the cool water, the sun hot on my exposed back as my fingers wrap a piece of chrysocolla between twine, perfecting another one of my dream catchers.
I press my hand to my eyebrows, seeing the sun hot, round, and bright as it sits high in the sky. The jagged red mountains of the Apache Trail don’t make it any less hot here in the desert. It’s like the sun heats the sand, the sand heats the air, and the air makes it so dry and stifling, it’s hard to breathe. Luckily, we’ve got a nice spot along the river.
It’s nothing like Wisconsin, where the air was a bit humid, smelling like a mix of cow manure, fresh air, and lake water. The thought makes my feet stop tapping to the beat of the music.
I miss my parents. I wonder how they’re doing. Is my mom still gardening outside? Is my dad’s favorite spot still at the kitchen table, where he can get a clear view of the lake and my mom outside at the same time? Does he still like his coffee scorching hot and black?
I shake my head.
He’ll always like his coffee black and boiling.
After they dropped me at the Greyhound station, I hopped on the bus heading to San Diego, where I’d then catch a flight to Maui.
Sitting on the bus that smelled like dirty socks and sweat, my tearful face pressed against the window, half wanting to jump out and run home, hoping that Roman was still there so I could beg him to take me back. Beg for his forgiveness.
The other part of me wanted the bus to move faster, to flee as far away from my past and create a new future as quickly as I could.
Then I met Willie, Neil, Shauna, and Trish. All of us headed to different locations. A little lost, not really sure what we’re looking for. Just something new, something fresh to dip our toes into with hope we come out the other end okay.
I showed them the flier, passed each of them the wrinkled, folded-too-many-times piece of white paper with my destination on it. I watched as four sets of eyes lit up, each of them thinking it was a great idea. They wanted to take this journey with me, hoping they could find what they were looking for on the beaches of Hawaii.
But first, they wanted to make a pit stop in Arizona. The pit stop ended up being our home. My dream is still to make it to Hawaii, but right now, I’m enjoying the red desert of Arizona. The red mountains, the cool rivers, the ranches, and the cowboys.
At times I get to see wild horses, their hair blowing in the wind as the ground shakes beneath their feet, their hooves pounding the sand as they run from place to place.
Wild.
Free.
Nothing gives me greater happiness than watching them roam the world. That’s what I want. To be free, without heartbreak, without obligations or people assuming what I need. I’ve dealt with that. I’ve lived a life with pitiful eyes watching me, assuming what was best for me. I don’t want that life.
I want to make my own path, build my own life.
We hopped off the bus in Phoenix, not really a destination in mind. It was Neil’s destination, and he wanted to at least check it out before we continued on our journey. We all walked off the bus, our legs stiff and our backs sore. We were all in desperate need of a shower, maybe a bed too.
But none of us had much money, so we wandered, hiked, found small jobs here and there. I’d find small stones on the ground, and with the days long and the nights even longer, I’d twine things together, until one day I made a dreamcatcher. Then I made two, three, until I had an entire stack of them.
We’d head down to town, and the locals and tourists loved them, their hands anxiously going to their pockets to pull out any spare change they had. I took it greedily, in need of food and water. Anything, really.
Neil and Willie found a small job with a rancher, cleaning up his fields and tending to his animals. In exchange, the old man gave us a half broken down Winnebago. We brought it to our spot by the river, making a small little home here.
Most of them sleep in the van.
I prefer the stars.
I always have.
It reminds me of lying on the sandy beach and watching the glistening stars both near and far. I feel like if I reach up, I'll be able to pluck one from the sky and put it in the satchel with my dreamcatchers. I'd keep the star, though. I'd hold onto it forever.
