The Volkswagen Diaries

Day Five.

Day five. DAY FIVE!?  Why does it feel like years have gone by and I've only taken a few steps?  It's been five days and five hundred miles.  Probably more.  Most likely less.  I honestly haven't been closely counting.  My night spent in the parking lot of an LDS church was the most peaceful yet, which was a relief.  Freakin slept like a baby, no noises, no skateboards, and no stray dogs.  And no, Ronnie Jacobs didn't spend the night if that's what your raised eyebrows were asking.  Even if he wanted to, I wouldn't have it.  And if that weren't enough, I know Tripp wouldn't have it.  As I was laying in Tripp's backseat last night beneath my comforter, eyes set on the two stars I could see through the spaces between sheets of newspaper on the windows, I wondered what it would be like to have a Ronnie with me.  I'd be closer to his age when that happened of course, with a wedding band on my finger, and he'd be the one dishing out $65 to fill Tripp's tank.  And there'd be two pillows instead of one.  It was a pretty thought really, a tad depressing and more than a tad idealistic, but a pretty thought.  Especially since I always pictured Randy in that spot.  Randy and no one else.

"Where are we headed today, Garrett?"

I was, of course, addressing the GPS.  His name is Garrett.  Garret Phillip Sanders.  And he was telling me that the day's portion of the trek would take us through to San Jose, if i did in fact stick to surface streets, stopped in early evening, and made a detour through Henry W. Coe state park.  I'd passed so many and hadn't stopped to see the scenery.

It was around 10:00am when I started the car and realized I was starving.  Despite the fact that I knew better, I only had one craving at the time: ice cream.  Terrible, right?  And the nearest Cold Stone (yeah that's right, I'm a high roller) wouldn't open til 11:30.  It was also located an hour away in Santa Cruz.  Works for me.  I've got nowhere to be but wherever I end up.  I got there at 11:15 and parked in the lot, facing the window.  Minutes later, a car pulled up beside me, directly beside me.  I glanced at the driver.  A woman older than me, but not old enough to be my mother.  Thirty-one was my guess.  She didn't see me.

Tripp and I waited patiently for about five more minutes, but at five minutes til, I was getting restless.  I looked at the driver of the other car again.  She looked back this time.  Her frizzy blonde hair and bright blue eyes looked as restless as I felt.  We quickly looked forward again.  It's like a reflex, to look quickly away after making eye contact with someone you don't know.  But it's not often a reflex to look back, and stare a little bit, when you've realized there was something mirrored in your glances.  She blinked, twice, and looked forward again.

I turned up the radio.  Soft rock.  I sang along, hoping it would make time pass faster.

"Should have seen by the look in my eyes, baby

There was something missing

Should have known by the tone of my voice, maybe

But you didn't listen"

I slowly, very slowly, hoping to be unnoticed, shifted my eyes back to the frizzy woman parked next to Tripp.

Her mouth moved along to the same song.

"Instead you lay still in the grass, all coiled up and hissin"

She was on the same station.  I kept singing.  She slowly turned her head and looked back at me.

"It was us, baby, way before them

And we're still together"

Her face broke into a smile of pleasant surprise and I half-smiled myself.  We had the same idea at the same time.  As if on cue, we both rolled our windows down.