I’d been laying at the Foxwood pool with Keira all afternoon. We hadn’t really been talking – both in our own little worlds. That’s the thing about friendship – the being – not the doing or the saying. I’d been thinking about a conversation with Kate, about relationships, and had decided that it was completely useless. I should just move on with my life. If someone wanted to tag along they’d be more than welcome. If not… well, I’d probably be better off. It got cloudy, so we headed back over to Keira’s, made dinner, and then Keer took off to a ward activity, leaving me alone in her house to finish my dinner and an episode of Seinfeld. She’d made me promise to lock the door when I left – I decided that I should probably head over to my own ward’s function, even though I really wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. I stood up re-wrapped my towel around my waist, grabbed my purse and cell phone, and headed out the front door. It wasn’t until the door was safely locked and shut behind me that I realized I didn’t have my keys. Hmmm. That stinks. But no big deal. I hadn’t seen them with my things, and I couldn’t remember clicking my key ring open and shut as I walked up the stairs (a thing I’m prone to do), so I’d probably left them back at the pool. I walked over. Nothing promising on first glance, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there – could be under something. I had a good look, but didn’t come up with anything. Well. Now what? I gave Keira a call, but got her voicemail. I left her an upbeat message about my predicament, and headed back over to her house. Hopefully she’d get it soon, and come and rescue me.
As I crossed the street back toward Keira’s, I saw a familiar stride. It had been awhile since I’d last seen him – a month at least. I wasn’t even sure what his name was, but he’d always been one of my favorite people to run into. So easy going – hilarious – and left me thinking. I realized I looked awful. A day in the sun and chlorinated water has never really left anything worth falling in love with. So I did what I always did when I ran into him – gave him a big bright smile.
“How are you? You’re very tan. How’s your job in the desert?”
“Pretty good. Yeah. I’m loving it.”
And suddenly I’m feeling happy. This is delightful and unexpected.
I explain that I left my keys inside the house, and he offers help to get them out. I accept – a girl clad in towel and swimsuit can’t be that effective on her own.
He hopped up onto a cinderblock and tried the kitchen window – it proved to be a dead end. So did the ones in the living room. I wasn’t worried. I was sure we’d find a way in. I’d never been unsuccessful before. We went around to the back of the house, climbed up on a garbage can, then onto the rickety old shed. Here was another useless window. It was the kind with a hand crank to open it – and if only it had been cranked open a little more, then I would have been able to pop out the screen. I tried fruitlessly to tug it open further.
I sighed. Gave my friend a thankful shrug, and turned to get off the roof. Maybe I’d just wait for Keira after all.
“Hey what about that window?”
I followed his view. He was pointing to Keira’s bedroom window. It was about 13 feet off the ground, but yes, it looked like it was open far enough for me to push out the screen. This could be good. Very good.
“All we need is a ladder.”
“Do you have one?”
Of course I didn’t have one, if I had one, I wouldn’t say we needed one. But I had an idea.
“Follow me.”
We jumped off the shed, off the garbage can, and he followed me down the street to a Moving Truck parked lazily against the curb. The truck’s large loading ramp was stashed on the bit of grass between the road and the sidewalk.
I stood beside it and announced, with a sweep of the arms, “We’ll use this.”
“What? Just take it?”
He looked surprised, but I was sure I had him. There was a glint in his eye, and he seemed the adventurous type.
“Sure. No one’s using it right now.”
I stooped to pick up my end. He grabbed the other.
We shuffled our way back up the street, over the road, and into Keira’s backyard. Man, that thing was heavy. It bugged me that he seemed to carry it so easily. I’ve never really gotten used to the idea of boys being stronger than me. He lifted his end up toward the window ledge, and I started to scoot my end along the dirt – grunting with the effort.
After a minute he called, “Hey, why don’t we switch?”
I was grateful for the suggestion. But it proved to be a bad idea. The ramp was entirely too heavy. As I stood, arms stretched above my head, I started slowly sinking toward the earth.
“Um?” - it came out sort of like a whimper.
“Oh. I’m sorry. Sorry. Here.”
He came running round. We switched places again.
Finally the ramp was in place. A too-steep path to Keira’s window, and – more importantly – my keys. I started up the ramp. It had little ridges that I dug my toes into to keep me from sliding back down. I perched precariously at the top, pushed hard on the screen and popped it out. Yes. Step one complete. I then grabbed the crank and started to twist the window open, so I could climb in. Problem. The ramp was placed directly in front of the window, and was now impeding my progress. I couldn’t get the window open far enough, because the blasted ramp was in the way. Great. I yelled the details down to my partner in crime who suggested we move the ramp. Or maybe I could just (more grunting)… Voila! My body was now perfectly jammed into the opening.
“I’m stuck.”
He called back in laughter, “Well hey, can you get your other leg up onto the window ledge, and off the ramp? – then I can move it.”
A little awkward, but seemingly do-able. I took a swing at it, and swung my knee straight through the bedroom window.
Super.
He moved the ramp. I wriggled through the window onto the glass covered bed below, and hurried to the front door to let him in. We searched hi and low. No keys. Not even in the couch cushions. I was a mess. My knee was bleeding, my keys weren’t in the house, it had all been a waste. My only hope was that the neighbors hadn't called the cops to report suspicious activity.
As most of you already know, I have upped and moved to Pennsylvania.
Day two I hit the road hard. I hadn’t left home with any sort of well formatted route or time schedule, but I needed to be in Lancaster before Sunday so I could meet up with some friends. I had a goal to see Nauvoo (I don’t know when this idea got into my head, but it was lodged in tight). Once I got to Lincoln I veered through the city, stopped at Russ’ Market for some grub and a chat with the locals, and then headed into Iowa along meandering one lane roads of farm trucks and buggies. Now, I have this little problem when I travel – I tend to wonder off the beaten path, get lost, find a place to swim, hike, etc. It took all of my will power not to turn off at every little point of interest, and not to stop and meander through the streets of every old quirky mid-western town I passed through.
I pulled into Nauvoo at 4pm – I was confused, and it took me way too long to find the visitor’s centre, but the sister missionary there was very helpful and set me on my way. I ran from house to house to try and see everything. This is not how you should tour church history sites. It loses meaning. But I did enjoy a quite moment looking out over the river.
I spent the night in my car – nestled on top of all the luggage in my backseat – parked neatly in a row of large semi-trucks. Don’t tell my Mom.
have any recommendations? And if you say the “Work and the Glory” series, I’ll punch you.
