Northern Escape

CHAPTER 3

What Lies Ahead

-Henry David Thoreau

Glancing at her watch, Grace saw it was already after nine. She packed her bags, paid for the night's lodging, and headed out the front door with a rowing cap pulled low on her face, unwilling to part with the security it gave her. Grace was traveling light with just her backpack and enough clothing for a few days. She would wash her clothes in the lake if necessary.

The artists' retreat was appealing, being that she was a bit of a shutterbug with an untapped creative side. Grace would actually be pretty pumped about this little adventure if it weren't for the knot in her stomach and the tension in her neck. That being said, it was the perfect escape. In her pack was a notebook that could be used as part of her cover. It would give her an opportunity to get away from the crowd and get the troubling thoughts out of her head and onto paper. Her journal had helped her survive the past two years, and she knew it wouldn't fail her now.

As she strolled down Laurier Avenue, Grace appreciated the newly green-leafed, tree-covered street. She approached the University of Ottawa campus and crossed the street, drawn to the familiarity of the place. Skirting the edges, the memories flowed back. Taking classes had been hard work, but she'd lived at home with both Mom and Dad and life had been pretty simple then.

"How was school today, honey?" her mom had asked.

"Fine, but I can't stand my economics professor. He is not only dry and boring, but he's arrogant too."

"A lovely combination in a professor, I'm sure." Mom had laughed, picked up the tea towel she'd dropped, and headed back to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Eat, eat. You must be starving."

Thinking back to how little she'd helped around the house shamed her. Mom and Dad would talk and laugh together in the kitchen while she sat on the couch watching television. She hadn't known how good she'd had it.

Getting choked up, Grace jogged back to the main street to get some distance from the emotions threatening to knock her to her knees. She shoved them to the back of her mind. It was a beautiful day. She'd had a beautiful mother who had loved her, and that was more than some ever had. Dad, well, she and her dad would get back on track when she was ready. Grace knew he was just waiting for that call but wasn't pushing her to make it.

Crossing the Rideau Canal, she looked down at the walkers and joggers making their way along the paths on either side. A tour boat had just come up the locks from the Ottawa River, and the tourists were pointing animatedly this way and that. It was early June, and tourist season was already in full swing. She loved June. Everything was so fresh and clean, and the entire summer lay ahead. To new beginnings, Grace mentally toasted herself while inhaling the sweet-smelling air.

A jog would have done wonders to get rid of some nerves, but not knowing when her next shower would be, she settled for a brisk walk. Her body was still as strong as it had been when she had rowed. Stress being a motivator, Grace would use the rowing machine in their condo daily. A typical workout was a ten-minute piece to warm up the muscles followed by another ten to fifteen minutes of stretching. She always took her time stretching since it allowed her to avoid the pain of the upcoming workout for a few more minutes. Once she couldn't delay any longer, Grace would strap her feet in, grab the handle, make sure her shirt was tucked in so it didn't catch in the wheels of the seat, and then she would start pulling, slow and steady for half an hour. With the music blasting, she would lose herself in the rhythm. Once the first piece was done, Grace would get off the machine, stretch her back out, and then sit down to do it again. Grace was a creature of habit. And exercise, like her journal, kept her sane.