“Oh, I don’t know about that, but I see your point.” She turned the radio down so it was nearly inaudible. “So, where should I take you? I can’t take you all the way back to New York City, I’m afraid, but if you called your mother I’m sure we could work out some way of getting you home safely.”
I laughed. “Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. I’m perfectly fine, Delia, but thank you. My mother is in Alaska, like I said.”
“Well, shouldn’t you ask her to buy you a plane ticket or something? Hitchhiking simply isn’t safe. Not anymore, if it ever was.”
“I’m having an adventure, that’s all. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
She huffed, not liking that answer but sensing that I wouldn’t be dissuaded. “Does your mother know you’re hitchhiking like this?”
I laughed. “Heck no! She’d be apoplectic if she knew. But I’m eighteen and I’ve been living alone in New York since I was seventeen, so I’m not about to go asking her permission.”
“On your own since you were seventeen? Are you a runaway?”
Honestly, the inquisition was getting a little annoying. “No ma’am. I was in college. Columbia University.”
“Well, you can’t be finished yet, and it’s got to be the middle of a term, right? So why are you going to Alaska?”
I couldn’t entirely suppress a sigh of annoyance. “I dropped out. It just wasn’t for me, for a lot of reasons. I’m an artist, and the college scene was honestly just cramping my voice as an artist, and left me no real time for painting or anything but classes and studying. So, I’m hitchhiking to Alaska and thinking about what my next step will be.”
Delia frowned at me. “One of my granddaughters dropped out of college to be an artist, and now she’s addicted to drugs and living in a tunnel or something in Chicago.”
I sighed yet again. “I’m not addicted to drugs, and have no plans to start. I don’t even like drinking all that much. But I appreciate your concern.”
Delia chuckled. “Am I being a know-it-all busybody again? My grandchildren all get upset with me quite often for that. I just can’t help wanting the best for everyone.”
I thought about lying, but it just wasn’t my style. “Honestly, Delia, yes, a bit. It’s all right, I understand and I appreciate your concern. But I do promise, I’m safe and being cautious about who I accept rides from.”
I mean, after all, I’d anticipated exactly what happened with good ol’ Donny Zelinski.
“I only live a few miles from here. How about I take you to my home, cook you a meal, and you can sleep in a real bed tonight. And then, in the morning, I’ll make you breakfast and take you half an hour in any direction you want. Preferably to a bus station, but if not, I’ll understand.”
Home-cooked food, and a bed?
Hello, generosity of strangers.
“That sounds wonderful, Delia. I’d be delighted to accept.”
A fairly auspicious start to my trip, I’d say.
2
Errol
“These look amazing, Errol,” my editor atNational Geographic, Len, was looking down, away from the screen of his laptop, at the iPad upon which my latest completed photography project was displayed. “Sienna and I will go through them and make some choices.”
“Sounds brilliant.” I was in an airport lounge in…St. Paul?
Maybe. Probably. I’d been connection hopping since yesterday morning, without sleep, so I was a bit cranky and more than a bit confused.
“What’s next for you, then, Errol?”
I yawned. “Find somewhere to sleep.”
“Well, yeah. But then what? Got a project lined up?”
I scrubbed my face, listening as a boarding call was announced. Not mine, so I tuned out. “I mean, I’ve had a few ideas. But honestly, this last project was pretty intense and I kinda need something more chill, you know? I like extreme stuff, but I’ve been hanging off the side of helicopters for the last six months. I wouldn’t mind being on the ground for a while.”
“So, ideas. Hit me.”
