CHAPTER 17
I call Ashley the next day and tell her that her dad said we could use his card for the trip, and she says she knew it, because he had given it to her before I even came over. She says she’s already booked the flights and made the hotel reservations, and that we’ll be leaving tomorrow, at three in the morning.
She says James would be by to pick me up tomorrow morning, and that I need to make sure I set my alarm. I go to my landlords and tell them I’ll be leaving for three months. They said they were sorry to hear about Patrick, and I tell them thanks. They say he always used to stop by and talk to them when they were outside. Even invited them in for coffee once. I make the payment for both of us for the next three months, and they give me back half, and say for me to keep it. That it doesn’t do them any good. I tell them thank you, and I’m beginning to think the luck I got from winning the poker game at the nursing home is still with me, and I’m still riding that luck pretty well. “Even the strongest birds have to take a rest. Otherwise, they crash.” I call Rebecca and we meet up for lunch before I start packing.
“Bummer. So you’re going to be gone for three months?” She says, lighting a cigarette.
“Looks like it.”
“Stupid fucking wind.” She turns around and finally gets the cigarette lit. ‘I’m really happy to hear that. It’s good for you to get away. This place is a fucking drag anyway in the winter. It never snows, but it’s always cold enough to. I hate it.”
“Yeah, that’s always bugged me too, now that I think about it.”
“Who are you going with?”
“It’s just me and Ashley. We’re going to London. Then wherever we want to after that.”
“I’ll tell you what, I’ve got a friend in England right now studying abroad. She’s pretty big on ecstasy, but she’s a really cool girl. She’s a little loopy, but she’s harmless. I’ll give you her number, and I’ll let her know that you’ll be there. She should be able to show you around a little better than a fucking tour guide.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I look around at the leaves and they’re finally changing, and in a couple of weeks, they’ll all be dead. And then we’ll have to wait until spring before any life is put back into them.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?” She puts the cigarette down in the ashtray, and the wind blows it out, so she stomps on it.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“Do you think you could write to me every once in a while? Like send a postcard or a letter or whatever. Not some impersonal email bullshit. Carrier pigeon if you have to.”
“Yeah, sure. Why?” She kind of looks away.
“I don’t really have that many people here that I can stand for more than five minutes. You’re one of my only good friends. So with you gone, I’m going to be depressed as shit.” She laughs and then looks back at me, her eyes kind of watery.
“I’ll write to you. Every other week. Keep you updated on how life is going over there. Then your friend can update you on the weeks that I don’t write.”
“Okay, that sounds good. I’ll miss you.” She gets up and I hug her, and she kisses me on the cheek and tells me to be safe. I tell her to do the same.
Back at the apartment, I’m packing up everything I own into three luggage bags. First, clothes, because there are some shirts I don’t want to leave behind. Some pants I’ve worn for the last three years. I throw all of my socks and boxers into the same bag, and don’t’ really fold them. I put a toothbrush and a comb, and some deodorant. All of the things I need. I grab a couple of books off of the shelf and stick them in there too. Mainly just some Bond novels. Casino Royale, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, and a couple of others I just pick up at random. I look around my room for anything else I might need, and I can’t think of anything. I’ve gone on living life so basically, that I never have the need for things. I put all of the luggage into the living room, on the couch, and make my bed. Just before I go to sleep, I go into Patrick’s room. Patrick’s empty fucking room, and I look at it one last time before I shut the door, and I won’t be reminded of it for three months.
When I wake up, I check the time and it’s two in the morning, so I get up and shower, and get ready for James to come and whisk me and Ashley away to Europe, and I can finally be happy, because I’ll be with someone I like, somewhere I might like, or I might not, but if I don’t, I can go somewhere else, and that’s that. This entire trip is an open ended ticket to anywhere I want to go. London, Manchester, Berlin, Siberia, anywhere I want to go and I can get there on Mr. Mitchell’s credit card and my dumb luck.