Kitsap

Kitsap - Every Decision is a Crossroads - Chapter 1

January

"I know it sounds completely cliché," I say to Phyllis, my friendly senior citizen Lyft driver, "but I've forgotten how disorienting it is to come from the bright lights of a city into the almost total lack of light out in the country at night.

I feel comfortable being this candid with her because Phyllis reminds me of my beloved third grade teacher Mrs. Walker. She too had silver gray hair worn in a long braid over her shoulder, and a necklace of large chunky stones. Mrs. Walker wore turquoise. I think Phyllis's stones are purple, but it's hard to tell in the low light. She's already let me know her younger sister owns a local gift shop in the area that sells new age books and gifts. I'm going to imagine the stones mean something about giving off good energy, something I need right now. We've been having a nice breezy low-key chat ever since Phyllis picked me up at the ferry terminal on Bainbridge Island about forty-five minutes ago, just after I'd arrived on the ferry from downtown Seattle.

"It can be very disorienting," she agrees with me, "especially if you're not used to driving in the rain, and this northern part of the Kitsap Peninsula can be particularly confusing to navigate." There are no street- lights on this windy little road and no other cars. Phyllis's headlights don't illuminate much except rain drops, several feet of road in front of us, and the lower trunks of the forest of trees that run along both sides of the road.

"It's been awhile since I've been here." I admit, "I'm really glad I'm not driving." It's so dark, and raining so hard, that I'm sure Phyllis is going to miss the turn for Uncle Gary's farm. But Phyllis has a calm assuredness about her that makes me feel better.

Personally, I've missed the turn to Gary's many times before myself. It happened most recently when my ex-husband Ethan and I had come up here about five years ago. We'd come for a quick visit after Ethan gave a keynote talk at a conference in Seattle. I'd warned Ethan how tricky it could be to find the unmarked turn off for the farm. Fortunately, Phyllis is a pro at following her car's GPS (which she'd need to be to work for Lyft), and she's been to Gary's before. Ethan pretended to be a pro with our fancy rental car's system but was not. We ended up getting so lost Uncle Gary had to come get us so we could follow him back. Ethan was in such an embarrassed angry funk over it that he barely spoke to me for the next few hours. Thankfully, Gary ignored Ethan ignoring me, and we had a great time anyway.

Like my beloved teacher Mrs. Walker, Phyllis is restful to talk to, which is just what I need right now. I've been on the road for seven or so hours by myself. My only company has been my worried thoughts, my favorite songs, and a couple of new ebooks (that were decent but not at all as transportive as I'd hoped for). It's been lovely to finally talk to someone other than a little bit of back-and-forth texting with my best friend Kenya at home in Long Beach.

I like to travel, I do, I'm just not terribly good at it. I deal really badly with the long stretches of sitting. I've never been that good at it, and the older I get apparently the more stiff-and-sore my muscles get. I can't sleep sitting up like my dad and my younger sister Kelsie can either. My dad calls them "gifted" sleepers. It's certainly a talent to be envied. My mom can't sleep sitting up either, which is fortunate for me. Both my sister and my dad are out cold after ten minutes once the car, bus, train, or airplane gets moving that they aren't actually driving. We traveled a lot when Kelsie and I were growing up. I would have been really lonely without Mom's company.

"Here we are," Phyllis says and makes a quick sharp left turn. We bump onto the unmarked dirt road that leads to Gary's. Down the lane, through a tunnel of more trees, I can see the house lights are on. The house glows bright teal in the dark. The lights must be on a timer. I love that the houses in this region are often painted such cheerful colors like brick red, butter yellow, and even (occasionally) different shades of pink. But I'm bummed Gary's equally cheerful charm isn't going to be here to greet me as well.