Three Slow Breaths

Chapter One

My mother would have said my behavior was too bold at the very idea of setting off on my own. My father would have seconded her remarks in a heartbeat. They over-thought constantly. But here I am. The air was damp and smelled of Autumn as I stepped off the 9 a.m. train in Ashland, Oregon. My first stop. With one bag over my shoulder and another in my hand I set off for life's next adventure. I had been preparing for this trip for a few years now. A chance to see the States, to tour on my own. A trip that will take me a couple years to complete. Stopping for months at a time to experience everything the states have to offer, from a perspective of their own. Not an outsider visiting for a weekend, but a community member getting lost in the chaos of normality. 

"I can do this." I thought to myself, searching for a small cafe to charge my phone before it reached 0%. Over the years I had to become my own best friend. Had to practice and set habits of growth, acceptance, ability to understand the things we cannot change, and the ability to move on. This journey over the next couple will allow me to understand more of myself and of the real world. Just then the slight red glow of an open-sign catches my eye from down the street a little ways.

The sound of my feet through the rain puddles made the sloshing sound of many childhood days when my brother and I would visit Nana's farm. With her many farm-animals there was always something to be doing. However in the moments we found ourselves able to relax we would make the most of it by jumping mud puddles or running through the many fields by her ranch house. We were a happier family then. Jason would absolutely go ballistic with joy knowing I was being more independent. At all the family barbecues and Thanksgivings he practically preached about it. I allow a hollow smile to reach my lips as I walk past busy shops along a bustling sidewalk, reminiscing of a time I wasn't so alone in the world.  

The far off jingle of a door-bell catches my attention as I nearly ram into the person exiting the cafe. I step aside quickly allowing him to pass and for me to keep my balance. Once inside the cafe, the aroma of coffee beans mixed with the unusual warmth is a pleasant surprise. I find a small table in the back with an unused plug and make my way over before losing the prime real estate. Their is a semi-lull over the cafe as the pleasant talk from the community are whispered through the crowded area. I set my bags down and dig through the smaller one to find my fast-charging phone charger, plugging it in my phone reads "2%." I then take out my notebook and pen and begin to doodle, buying me some time to charge the electronic before calling my parents about landing safely. 

Five minutes pass before I hear a soft voice whisper, "Would you mind if I say with you?"

I look up and see a young woman around my age, so probably . She's dressed in a business-like fashion with a microphone in one ear carrying two binders. I motion for her to sit and she does so with a welcoming sigh.

"Thank you, it's unusually crowded here today." She says, looking around at the busyness of the cafe.

"It's not typically this busy here then?" I ask, looking up again from the exotic lines and patterns of my doodles.

"Not hardly," She laughs softly, "It must be the harvest festival."

"The harvest festival?" I question, "I thought only Salem and a couple other cities had that."

She turns her attention onto me, "No, it's kind of like Oktoberfest. Everyone does it, it might just in different forms or not quite covered as heavily by the media." She says with a shrug.

"Oh, that would make a lot of sense. Has the town grown that much?" I inquire.

"Not hardly but we do know how to have a good time." She says with a smile, "Oh! I never introduced myself, I'm Blake."

She holds out her hand, awaiting a handshake.

"Whitney." I reply with a smile, shaking her hand gently.

"Well, Would you want to meet up for Harvest Fest? I'm going with my boyfriend and some friends. It would be a good time to reacquaint yourself with the town!" She pauses as what I'm assuming her number is called, "I'll be right back." She stands quickly and ventures into the sea of people to get her coffee.

I look down at my phone, which now reads 15 percent along with a few random messages here and there about various things. One from my mother on my current location and if I'm still alive, another from my father on me not getting back to my mother in a timely fashion, one from an old family friend, Mrs. Langst who's getting back to me about when we're meeting up as shes letting me live in her old apartment over the next few months and a final one from Verizon stating I'd get better coverage from them. I decide that letting them wait another 5 minutes won't really be a big deal as I see Blake coming back with a tray of coffees. 

I now take notice that her heels help her legs look longer, accompanied by the skirt and blazer suite she's been rocking. Very business and quite professional. Her hair flows in loose ringlets helping to shape her face. A face with a look of worry on it.Meanwhile I sit as politely as I can, a habit I inherited from my parents and their various business dinners and parties, and am near falling asleep on the comfy cafe seat, soothed by the warm air that smells of caramel and coco. My legs crossed as my messy bun atop my head lets my bangs hang down. my loose fitting shirt comforts me in a gentle embrace as I relax further in the atmosphere of the coffee shop.

"You doing alright there?" I question.

"I just got a call about something at work, someone just left unexpectedly and so now we're gonna need to scramble." She relaxes slightly, "Would you be horribly upset if we continued to talk later?"

I laugh softly, "We just met, it's cool. Why would someone leave so suddenly?."

She takes out a piece of paper from one of her binders, "Something about her maternity leave, or her cats maternity leave. I'm not entirely sure but I've gotta get there or my boss will kill me. May I use your pen?" She asks. I hand it over without hesitation. And she begins to write her number down.

"Here," She turns to me with a polite, semi-frantic smile, "Text me and we can meet up for the Harvest festival."

With that she spins on her heels and exits the cafe, back into the cool Oregon morning air.

As I program her number into my phone, a new message from my Mom comes through and I decide now is a decent time to let her know I'm not yet dead. Afterwards, I sit and remain in the cafe for another half hour before rationalizing now would be a good time to meet up with Mrs. Langst about the apartment and thinking of Blake and what kind of a job she works for. I mean, cat maternity leave?