Over & Done With ☑️

Over the Border

Alicja knew pretty soon that this was the place where she was going to part with Andy. Of course, they spent the night at 'La casa de nadie'. They made dinner all together and spent the evening around the stove, drinking herbal teas made from plants they had collected. Total hippies, the lot of them.

They were nice, but a bit too anti-technology for her tastes. They had sleeping space left, though. Andy slept on a folding couch in the living room while she slept in Daniella's room. The girl was not getting along with the rest of the people here. She needed more space and comfort that were available at La casa, simple as that. It made sense to Alicja. It was one thing to sleep wherever you could on a trip or at a party and another to make this your regular lifestyle.

Throughout the evening, they had gone over a lot of topics related to the actual maintaining of the land, the agricultural bits, the neighbors who were quite a long way away, anything. Andy was endlessly curious and enthusiastic about all of this. When Gabi asked if they would like to help with the land the next day, he shot Alicja a look that made pretty obvious what he was asking for.

"What do you think," he said, hopeful, "should we stay and help?"

"Sure," she said, giving up immediately. Well, they weren't on a schedule anyway.

Over the following days, she had time to regret that decision. Alicja had two main problems: first, she still had a crush on Andy, which made it harder for her to move on. Secondly, the car was his. Andy could probably drop her at the nearest city, but the year was advancing into February now. Not the best time for hitch-hiking. What she needed was a warmer place where she could keep touring without freezing her ass off. She spent some time mulling it over while Andy played little farmer. Finally she reached a decision, but Andy was fairly distracted: he had just received a message from his friend Josh, who he hadn't spoken to in months. Josh, apparently, was on his way to Spain.

* * *

Early in January, after Mathieu had left, it turned out that Ms. Giraud was maybe more out of shape than she had seemed to be. It was getting increasingly harder for her to handle the tasks she wanted to. She had to delegate a lot more things to Josh, and that made him feel quite uncomfortable: he wasn't a certified nurse, after all. It was one thing to keep her company and lift the heavy stuff, but lifting her up from the couch when she wasn't steady enough on her feet made him think about all the ways he could mess up. He wasn't trained for that.

As much as he hated to admit it, Mathieu, that asshole, hadn't been entirely wrong. She was stubborn and sometimes the was she solved problems didn't solve them all that much. Andy was a good handyman to have around, but she would need more, maybe soon.

When she was in her good days, they would talk for some time in the living room while she knitted him a scarf. The knit was taking forever, but the skill was real if a bit rusted.

In the bad days, she would stay in bed most of the time and take a short walk in the afternoon if the weather permitted it. It was not like she had some kind of severe illness, but age was enough. It had made her sore and out of breath, it made her joints gravelly, her legs heavy, her vision dim. She was gently shutting down from old age. She wasn't dying either: unless they diagnosed her with something bad, she probably had years left to enjoy in her simple way. Nevertheless, living had become an effort.

One February day, Ms. Giraud stopped Josh who was vacuum cleaning the living room, calling his attention with a small hand gesture. He stopped the noise, with delight as always. When would they get around inventing a vacuum cleaner that didn't sound like a plane taking off?

In the sudden silence, she talked in a quiet voice. "Come sit," she said, pointing to the couch nearby. There was a strangely solemn tone in her voice. Josh knew something was up.

"What's going on, Ms.?" he said, sitting on the edge of the seat with his hands joined over his knees.

"You know what's going on," she said, half-jokingly. "Nothing new. I'm old." She paused. A moment of hesitation and vulnerability showed on her face. "Thing is, as you might have noticed, I'm not getting any more independent." Josh nodded.

"At first," she said, "I thought it might have been temporary, that I was simply tired. But I think now that this old body simply is not recovering anymore. It kills me to agree with my idiot child, but I'm not sure I can live without medical attention anymore." She cleared her throat and kept going with more assurance in her voice. "On the practical side of things, it means I'm going to have to fire you and sell the house."

Josh couldn't help himself and let out a brief laugh. Ms. Giraud raised an eyebrow, almost vexed. Was he not taking her seriously?

"I'm sorry," he said, giggling, "I couldn't help noticing, you never sugarcoat things, do you?"

She smiled. "Not if I can help it," she said. "Still, I'm sorry, I didn't plan for things to go this way, obviously. I wish things could stay that way for a while longer. You're a great help and I'm never bored with you. I hope you know that."

"I do," said Josh. "At the same time, I also know that I can't give you the care you need. I'm not a nurse nor a doctor. I do odd jobs."

Ms. Giraud nodded. They discussed the particulars of the change. She wanted to settle down fast and she was counting on her daughter Stephanie to have things done her way without interference from Mathieu. In a month, if thinks went well, she would have found a decent retirement home, and the house would be for sale.

That night, Josh thought a lot about what he would do next. What were his options? Just thinking about travelling, he was missing his old partner. He decided to send him a text. If he wasn't too busy, maybe it was time to visit him in Spain?

Over the next two weeks, they exchanged a few messages. Andy was reluctant to text back. He most likely found the whole idea of messing around with a tiny keyboard unappealing. Josh still managed to get a rather accurate depiction of where Andy was and of what he was doing.

For a while, he had been staying in the same farm, helping out and generally being on a vacation. He was talking about replacing a resident of the house who was about to go. That would mean getting more involved in all the tasks that made the farm run smoothly, but apparently he was OK with that. Also, there was space for visitors, so if he wanted to lend a helping hand, Josh was more than welcome.

The exchange, slow as it was, mended Josh's heart a little. He had never really gotten over the violence of what they had lived together. Reading about him being happy and functional somewhere was a great relief. Receiving a heartfelt invitation doubly so. Josh made his mind and packed his bags. Next stop would be Spain.

A bit before the end of March, he drove Ms. Giraud and Stephanie to a human-sized retirement home they had found. People were apparently pretty nice over there and one of the nurses spoke English. Ms. Giraud wasn't sad. She wasn't the type to mull over things too much. As she said in her own words, 'you deal with what you got'. She didn't have much of a body anymore, but that wasn't supposed to stop her from enjoying the little pleasures of life. They had selected the retirement home with the best catering they could find. She was going to make friends with the ones who weren't to far gone and think of it all as a sort of not-so-fancy vacation resort. Life was good.

Josh didn't promise he would come visit. He wasn't sure he would, given that he didn't know in what country he would be in two months. He knew better than to bullshit her. He waived her goodbye, took his thinks in the trunk of the car and went away walking.

The van had been crushed into a small metal cube, Andy had gone away with whatever car Julien had gotten him, but Josh had nothing. Maybe his life in France had made him a little more mature: instead of spending all the money from the job with Ms. Giraud, he considered it traveling expenses and put it aside. If necessary, he would go hitch-hiking, like real travelers did.

That's how he went to Spain: with a backpack, a blanket rolled in a plastic bag, a pile of cash hidden in a bumbag and a raised thumb.