Road Trip Inset

·IM excerpts: ·
·You turned around to find me when I called. That’s all I’m thinking about. That was powerful and loving. It’s going to keep me up. Would you get me started on a bedtime story so I can get some sleep?·

·Sure. But don’t let me pick my nose in your story. I see a hammock and some shade…·

·That’s a good start, but leave your pen alone tonight and get some sleep. Can’t wait to see your new hair.·

·Good night. We’ll see if you can tell which one I got cut.·

·Just try to spare those few strands I look for. The hammock is up to you, I’ll be dreaming of you telling it tonight. My next one’s in Chicago, and it’s about…well, you dream of me and that.·

“Wait. Wait a minute, and be fair.”
Huh? (“Yeah, ‘Huh’, that sounds just like you.”)
“Just, I think if you’re going to ask me to tell it, you should at least let me pick…”
Pick what?
“The departure point”
You’re right, of course. I really liked that hammock idea you had going. Give me a minute or two to build back to it, ‘kay?
“Okay, but how will we know I’m telling it?”
Well, ‘cause it sits inside of your last one…

When you got up, you were right, I had snuck out. I wanted to get a surprise together for you before you woke, so I slid out. You almost caught me when you reached out for me again, but I was able to slip Snowman in my place, and that seemed to work. I’m not able to stop a selfish thought that maybe I ought to tag myself back in, but settle for brushing your hair away and giving you a kiss on the forehead. Urgh! Leaning over wasn’t a great idea for my head this morning. Maybe just one o’ those irish car bombs would’ve been enough.
Chilly this morning, I’ll tuck you in to at least trap my warmth in there with you. Not a snore exactly, but a quick little breath from you, and your lips part slightly and move. What’re you trying to tell the phantom of me you think is still there? I'd better get on with the sneaking before I wake you up. With the time difference, it’s easily in the unforgivable range of morning hours.
(“That one went too far. I think by now I’m used to your lack of a sleeping habit. I would’ve just waved you either in or out and rolled back over. You know, I think I might prefer when I appear awake in these.”
Can’t you allow me a moment to pamper you? Besides, your entrance is coming right up…)
You wake to find a card and a small spray of flowers (I swear, I asked your Dad before I touched ‘em, and he surprised me by showing me where the ones he thought you’d like most were growing – every once in a while he shines on you like that, eh? I think I like him, but he’s got that daughter’s dad distance when he talks to me, like, as long as you say it’s okay, he’ll tolerate me). There’s two coffee cups in the sink, but a fresh pot on the warmer (I drank the last cup, so I made some more for you – sorry by the way, it’s universally agreed that I make bad coffee. But, really, after you put all that flavored cream in, it probably doesn’t make a difference does it?
“Let me try it. Uh, yeah, it makes a difference.”).
The cabin is empty, and the truck’s gone, so you take your time easing into the day and getting around to all your favorite details, talismans, and pictures in the cabin. It’s still chilly, so you wrap up in my sweatshirt and cozy up, holding your coffee cup in both hands.
You hear footsteps, and turn to see me coming in the door.
“Hey, you.”
Hey – Good Morning?
“Not so bad, still don’t understand why you get up so early. Where’ve you been anyway? I was starting to wonder.”
Hey, I left the coffee and sweatshirt didn’t I?
“Don’t get me started on this – did you call it coffee? The sweatshirt’s cuddly though.”
Let me put it on then.
“Nope, missed your chance and decided to get up, didn’t you?”
I thought you said we were signed up to help your Dad with some stuff, and I thought I might as well get it done.
“What’d you guys talk about – anything? Or did you both do your awkward quiet act like you did in the truck last night?”
No, we talked. I asked him what there was around that he needed help with, and after he nodded at you and grinned, he took me outside, showed me the brush that he needed cleared, told me I could get what I needed out of the new metal building. Then he said he had something else he wanted to get to, got in the truck and went.
“So what’ve you been doing?”
I cleared the brush, fixed a few things that I noticed, got some other little things done too.
“I would’ve helped if you’d just waited – still anxious about being the man?”
Whatev’s. I just wanted to get that out of the way so that you could spend your time showing me around some more. I’m looking forward to seeing the best places to find cool rocks.
“Was that your stomach just then, or is there a bear outside?”
You know, I was so happy about not having been caught snoring, but there’s always some noise I have to make to embarrass myself. You want to show me where we can get some breakfast?
“Okay, let me just ‘fix’ my hair.” You pull your cap on, and throw me mine. “You ought to cover that up before we go, too.”
Right, I know, I’ve been wondering where I left that cap last night. Maybe that’s why your Dad had to go – he was worried about busting out laughing at my hair.
“Here he comes back again, we can ask him. He’s probably back to take us for breakfast. He knows how important it is to let me sleep in the morning.”
You probably mean he knows how dangerous it can be to accidentally wake you in the morning.
“Puhtato, potahto.”
Your Dad suggests that we drive separately, that way we can hang around in town for a while if we want. He’s got other errands to do after breakfast.
“You drive today, okay? I’ve got a headache, and I’m still a bit sleepy.”
Yeah, so I started the day out fast, but now I’m beat. At least my hangover’s shifted to just a dull feeling in my head. I’ll drive after you get us to the road – I’m afraid of putting the 4 Runner in the pond…
I actually manage to negotiate the driveway when we get back from breakfast. Your Dad’s truck is still gone. Come on, take me for a walk now that it’s warmed up, show me some of your secret places.
“A walk? How about we just hang out on the porch?”
I open up the back of the 4 Runner, and -- voilá – the hammock.
(“I was wondering how the hammock was ever gonna show up.”
Did you doubt me?
“No, I was just wondering.”)
Okay, just a short walk till we find someplace to put this where I don’t have to squint out the sunlight – the dullness is gone, but the backs of my eyes are still a little light sensitive.
“Somehow, you still manage to surprise me: I can’t believe you snuck that here.”
You know, I’m always applying my imagination to your delight – that and a pen and we’re all set. Now, I’m not convinced you didn’t know we had brought the hammock, ‘cause you seem to already know where we’re going with it. Just perfect, the trees just tall and full enough to block the noon sun, just the right distance apart (Hand me that end would ya? “Here you go, tie it a little higher”), still close enough to the pond that now and again you can hear a splash – must be a fish? You go ahead in while I hold it for you. Now hold still a moment for me…to get…in?
“Ha haha hahaha”
Geez, I guess if I’m getting in I’d better tie it a bit higher up yet – it does tend to sag a bit when I’m lying in it. Yeah, I know, laugh all you want, you’ll get yours. Now quit giggling, hold still, and I’ll try it again… Ahh, that’s it. Get a little rocking going, exhale, and let go into the hammock. You know what I was thinking?
“Shhhhh”
No, I mean this morning. I had another idea for a story for us. It was in…
“Yes, Chicago, but it can wait.”
How’d you know it was in Chicago?
“’You know, I’m constantly applying my imagination to your delight’, et cetera, et cetera. Plus, I peaked ahead in the notebook – I can’t always wait for you to finish the next one.”
Okay, so, when it starts out…
“Stop trying so hard, just relax and let us just be in the hammock okay? I’ll hear the Chicago thing later.”
You’re right of course, this is perfect: still slightly swaying, just the impression of a breeze, warm enough, sleepy, energy a little dulled from this morning with the brush, your leg over mine, both of us unwinding into each other and the hammock (go ahead, put your head on my shoulder. “I was gonna ask again.” You don’t have to ask.), bright blue sky above our faces. I hope I don’t snore.
“Shhhh; stop.”
You wanna hear about the clouds?
You just turn to look me in the eye, put your finger to my lips, and gently shake your head ‘no’ – and I finally get it, and we leave the thinking behind, and just relax into our moment.