Chapter 6: Pennsylvania.
“Good morning, Siddalee Viviane Eliese Sullivan.” Frank greeted me at his front door with a duffle bag full of stuff for the summer. Today was the day that we’re heading to California. I was awake nice and early to message my dad, telling him that I was heading to California today with a couple of friends and we’d be arriving in a couple of days.
I shot Frank a nasty look at I stood on the doorsteps with my hands in my jacket pocket. It was a light tie-dye hoodie that I’d wear in the Spring and Autumn. Frank knows I absolutely hate it when people call me by my whole name. I hated the name my mother gave me. Just because she was in Louisiana when she had me, she gave me such a Southern name. When I was little she’d call me Sidda. I still hate that she named me Siddalee Viviane Eliese Sullivan. So as soon as I started School I started going by Eliese instead of Siddalee. Very, very limited amount of people know my whole name.
“Never ever call me that ever again.” I warned, giving him a displeased look. Frank chuckled and shook his head at me as he took his bag to my van and tossed it into the back where Rae, Mikey, Gerard and our friend Ray were already to go to California. Rae and I shared a suit case since we basically share clothes and we’re the only two girls on this trip. Mikey and Gee shared while Frank and Ray had their own duffle bags. We just piled all the bags up at the very back which left space for everyone to sit or lay down if they pleased.
I climbed into the front seat behind the wheel and buckled myself in while Frank got comfy in the seat beside me. Frank’s house was the last stop before we hit the road to California. I looked back in the rear view mirror and smiled as butterflies began to flutter in my stomach.
“Are we ready to go?” I asked cheerfully.
“Hell yeah!” Rae shouted in the back which was followed by more hollers of excitement. I pulled away from the curb and we began our adventure to meet my other half of my family. In a couple of days I’m going to meet my dad for the first time. I’m going to meet my maker and if that isn’t good enough reason to have butterflies in your stomach then I don’t know what is.
We’ve been on the road for about an hour and forty-five minutes now, we’re riding through Pennsylvania before going through West Virginia. We’re gonna have lunch there then we’re gonna have dinner in Kentucky. Rae’s gonna drive from Kentucky to Missouri, then we’ll stop and sleep at a cheap motel for a couple hours in Kansas then in themorning Frank’s gonna drive from Kansas to Colorado where we’ll stop and have lunch then we’ll drive until we get to Arizona that’s where we’ll stop and spend the night then drive from Arizona to Huntington Beach. We’ll get to my dad’s house at about lunch time.
I’m so excited and very scared and nervous. I’ve wanted to meet my dad since I was sixteen and Tom told me I wasn’t his. I’ve wanted to go on an adventure like this since I was really little. I’ve always had a restless soul. And I’m killing a shit ton of birds with one stone.
I sat behind the wheel in a pair of bright red skin tight jeans with a rainbow belt, a yellow, white and purple tie dye tank top with a black silver studded cap that I wore sideways. I had on a pair of black boots. I had taken my jacket off since it’s not early in the morning anymore so it’s fairly warm outside.
I had the window rolled down a little bit so I could have a cigarette. Frank nosed through my new stack of CDs while the others played card games in the back and talked about what the difference between a zombie and a mummy was. Apparently to Rae a mummy is an Egyptian zombie. I argued with the fact that if you got bitten by a zombie you turn into a zombie but if you get bitten by a mummy you get an infected bite. She just didn’t understand the difference between the two and I can see why, they’re almost the same thing but they’re completely different.
“So, Eliese,” I heard Gerard’s voice from the back. I stole a quick glance in the rear view mirror. “–If this trip goes well, are you planning on moving to California?” Gerard asked a questioned I’ve never been asked until now. I already know the answer but if I wasn’t dying then I’d have to reply with something to keep them off of my back.
I sensed Frank was looking at me with a puppy-dog look moulding his features. I kept my eyes on the open road ahead. I took a long drag off of the cigarette and thought for a moment.
“Last night I told my mom that I’m going on this trip to soul search, to get answers. I can’t tell you right now if I’m going to move to California or not, ask again at the end of the summer.” I replied calmly. I knew Frank was going to be hurt if I did decide to stay in California but he knows that I’m a restless soul and I need my freedom. I need to be able to venture the world by myself. It’s sad that I’m not going to be able to do that. I’m not going to be able to be a restless soul. I already know where I want to be buried. My mom and dad met in Louisiana, I think it’s only right that the place that I was created is the place I’m going to spend eternity. My grandparents own an old plantation and it over looks a river and a couple miles down the vacant road is a cemetery. That’s where I want to be buried.
I already have everything set in place. I’ve written everyone letters saying Good-Bye. I’ve made arrangements with the funeral home in Louisiana. I’ve donated all my clothes that I didn’t bring on this trip. My room is practically empty now.
“So I take it you haven’t applied for any colleges or universities then.” Mikey spoke up next. I pursed my lips around the bud of the cigarette tightly and inhaled deeply.
“No, I’m gonna take a year off School to explore and find myself.” I explained calmly. I technically didn’t lie because that was what I was planning on doing. I wanted to take a year off School in order to find myself and live. But this summer is all I have left. I have from the end of June until the beginning of August to live my life. I want to find love and experience everything before I go. This summer is my last chance at happiness.
