The Long Ride Home
July 14, 2004
kathy's first concern was that i would be run over by a car. "boston drivers are the worst," she exclaimed over the sound of rebounding freethrows & noisy sneakers on a basketball court. i laughed and with a hug she said she would encourage me with whatever decision i made. our team won & i went home with the same baggage i came in with.
& so a few months later i found myself on a turbulant plane and then in a rattling taxi cruising over wet pavement just downtown in the historic district of boston. from my eighthstory window i barely saw anything because of the fog. somewhere right downthere was a freedom trail and potential future footprints of yours truly. alone i traveled the city with my camera, umbrella, & notebook: adoring the statues of ducks & the children that climbed on their wings. i met my dad for dinner and we decided to drive to maine.
the fog was dense as we cruised north on a little road that kept the ocean in view- a true eastcoast sheridan road. we weaved through small marina towns and stopped at chilly lookout points where we exited the car, hugged ourselves, & took deep breaths to digest the salty, dark, air. my dad wandered around in his trench coat while lighting another cigar and the atmosphere was suddenly a film noir.
back in the car and darkness and fog: there was nothing to see but what was right in front of us. the fog horns reminded me of a eugine o'neill play i studied in highschool. i could not think of a more beautiful moment. we parked our car at a seaside inn for dinner- just a little white house really- and the pianoman dined with us and spoke of the military and vietnam. we slowly filtered out of our dreamy world on the way home when the fog became a steady rain. we were about to re-enter boston when the deadman appeared: spread himself on the road and was struck and killed "by multiple cars" they said. the body lay under a white sheet by the time we passed it. back on the eightstory i listened to carhorns & the shouts of the hotel valets to taxis. the lights from other tall building were fractured by the cloud the city seemed to have settled under.
the ocean, i reminded myself. i came for the ocean. for the water.