Harriet Beamer Takes the Bus (5 page)

“Oh, yes, they’re just the best notebooks. And they’re kind of famous.”

“How can a notebook be famous?”

“The story goes that Hemingway and Van Gogh and Picasso and, well, just droves of famous artists used them. They would never use an ordinary notebook.”

Lacy pulled open the door to the stationery shop. “Come on. This is where I buy mine.”

“Moleskine? Are they made from real mole skin?”

“No. And some folks call them Mole-
skeen
.”

“Still don’t know what moles have to do with it, but I’ll take a look.”

Harriet fell instantly in love with the notebooks. She especially appreciated the feel of the paper, so smooth.

“And gel pens,” Lacy said. “You need to write with gel pens on these.”

“Okeydokey,” Harriet said, now completely enthralled with the notion of using a notebook that Hemingway used. “Who knows, maybe my story will become famous.”

Harriet paid for a package of three Moleskines and two gel pens — black — and a package of three of the famous notebooks for Lacy.

“You don’t have to do that,” Lacy said.

“Of course I do. You helped me so much.”

The new friends left the store. Harriet reached into her tote bag, found her wallet, and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She gave it to Lacy.

Lacy shook her head. “Oh, that’s okay. I think what you’re doing rocks. Glad to help.”

“Take it,” Harriet said. “I’m sure you can use it, and truthfully, honey, I didn’t leave you a big enough tip.”

Lacy pocketed the cash. “So where to?”

“The next stop,” Harriet said, “Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The home of the only salt-and-pepper-shaker museum in the world.”

“W
HAT DO YOU SUPPOSE GOT INTO MY MOTHER?”
H
ENRY
asked Prudence over morning coffee. “Why in the world would she do this? Now? At her age?”

Prudence sat at the kitchen table and poured a few drops of skim milk into her coffee. “I don’t know. Maybe she just wants a last chance to do something. Didn’t you tell me your dad was always so busy with work and church business he never wanted to travel, only to the shore for one week every August?”

Henry chuckled. “Yeah. His idea of a vacation was sitting in the backyard watching burgers burn on the grill.”

“So she’s just doing a lifetime of vacationing in one fell swoop.” Prudence sipped her coffee. “And speaking of work …”

“We weren’t speaking of work.”

“In any case I need to get to Sacramento for a meeting, and you need to get back to that novel. Help take your mind off your mom.”

Henry shrugged. “I hope so. I’m not making much progress.”

Prudence kissed Henry’s cheek. “The words will come. They always do.”

“So I guess you’ll be late tonight?”

“Yes. And that gives you more time to write. But give her a call if you’re worried.”

Harriet had just boarded the Acela Express train toward Washington, D.C., even though she was stopping at Baltimore, when she heard her phone jingle. She thought she had tucked it into the mesh compartment on her tote bag like Lacy suggested. “Easy access,” Lacy had said.

But it wasn’t there. “Oh dear, where did I put you?” Harriet unzipped the main pocket and rooted around inside.

“Oh, don’t stop chiming,” Harriet said. “I’ll find you.”

No phone. “Oh dear, where in the heck are you?” The phone jingled once more and then stopped before she found it tucked into her dress pocket. Lacy had also suggested that Harriet might be more comfortable traveling in jeans than dresses. But Harriet had still not stopped to shop for them, or for comfortable shoes.

She opened her phone. “Henry called,” she said aloud just as a large woman wearing an orange suit slid next to her with a thud.

Harriet fiddled with the phone. It was different from her old one. For one thing it didn’t have a flip lid. She pressed the button that locked the screen.

“Hello,” she said to Orange Woman.

The woman in orange looked at Harriet. “Afternoon.”

Harriet sighed and unlocked her phone. She tapped Henry’s name, thankful that the nice man at the Verizon store was able to transfer her contacts and waited for him to answer.

“Mom. Where are you?”

“I’m on my way, dear.”

“But where are you?”

“The train.”

There was a long silence as Harriet glanced at the Orange Woman. “I’m on my way to California.”

The woman harrumphed and looked away.

“The train?” Henry said. “I thought you were taking the bus.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you on a train?”

“It’s a strange thing, Henry. You can’t always get a bus from here to there.”

“So are you taking the train the whole way to California? When will you arrive? Which station?”

“Oh no. I have no idea when I’ll get clear to California. It’s a long way, you know. I’m stopping at Baltimore first, and then I absolutely must stop in Tennessee to see the Salt and Pepper Shaker Museum.”

“Salt and Pepper Museum? Mom, are you nuts?”

“No, dear. I’ve always wanted to see it and —”

“Then take a plane to … what did you say, Tennessee?”

Harriet took a breath and glanced at Orange Woman who seemed to be eavesdropping.

“I already told you. Because I want to travel, see the country.”

“Travel?” Harriet heard a distinct annoyance in Henry’s voice. “Are you doing this because you’re still mad at me?”

“Mad at you. What in the world for?” The train jostled. Harriet liked the sensation and smiled at Orange Woman who still appeared to be listening in.

“For selling Dad’s business and —”

“No, Henry. I’m doing this because … well, just because.”

There was another uncomfortable pause until Henry said, “Okay, call me when you get to the museum or someplace in between.”

“I will, dear.”

“Which reminds me,” Henry said. “Your boxes arrived this morning — early.”

“Oh, good. I hope none of them broke. I packed as carefully as I could.”

“Want me to check?”

“No, no. Just leave them packed.”

There was a bit of silence until Henry asked, “Are you okay?”

“Sure, dear. I’m fine. I kind of like traveling. ‘Course lugging
my rolling suitcase up and down steps is a bit of a nuisance. But thank goodness you are more or less expected to carry luggage onto a train. People look at me funny when I lug it up the steps on the bus.”

“Listen, Mom,” Henry said. “I just had a good thought. Do you want me to come? To you? We’ll travel together?”

“What? Really?” Harriet slipped her feet out of her shoes and wiggled her toes. She smiled at the relief.

“I haven’t even mentioned the idea to Prudence. I just thought of it a second ago but —”

“No. I … I appreciate the thought but … no, Henry. I think this is a journey I need to take alone. This could very well be my last chance to see the country and …”

“And what?”

“Now I’m not so sure I know, and what … something.”

“Well, now you’re just being cryptic, which worries me even more. You have no plan, no schedule —”

“I know that. That’s the adventure part.”

Harriet heard Henry make a noise. The same snorty noise Max used to make when he was getting a little peeved. “Are you sure you don’t want me to meet you?”

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want you to meet me. And I think I would like to hang up now. I want to see the scenery.”

“I just don’t know why you think you can do this — travel such a long way by yourself. You have no experience and —”

“That’s right, Henry. I have no experience.”

“But you can have the same experience if we travel together.”

Harriet laughed. “I don’t think so, Son. Now please. Let me do this — my way.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to worry.”

“Oh, oh, I almost forgot,” Harriet said just before she clicked off. “How’s Humphrey? Does he miss me?”

“He’s fine. And I think he does miss you.”

“Tell him I’ll see him soon.”

Harriet locked her screen and looked through the window. Was it possible she was still angry at Henry? She smiled at her seatmate. Orange Woman smiled back and said, “California, huh. It’s a long way.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Orange Woman, who was clutching a large green handbag on her lap, smiled and then said, “My name is Mauve. Mauve Riggins, and I admire your style.”

Harriet grinned ear to ear. “And I admire your … orange suit.”

So for the next fifty minutes — give or take, Harriet and Mauve enjoyed each other’s company, swapping daughter-in-law stories. And Mauve, who was a businesswoman — in sales — even showed Harriet a few tricks for her Droid. Harriet especially liked the alarm. Now maybe she’ll always remember to take her blood-pressure medicine. But the conversation always managed to get back around to children.

“My son,” Mauve said, “married that woman without even telling me. It was like I didn’t exist. All I got was a phone call two days after. By then it was too late for me to have any say.”

Harriet clicked her tongue. “Oh dear, I’m sorry to hear that. Henry and Prudence had the good sense to give me a church wedding to attend. But I must say that it wasn’t what you would call a traditional wedding. She wore a very strange white outfit — more like a wedding pants suit than a gown. It was ugly, but I would never tell her that.”

“Now I got to say, I do love my grandbabies,” Mauve said. “Three of the cutest little boys you ever set eyes on. How about you? Got any grandbabies?”

Harriet adjusted her tote between her feet. “No, not yet. Prudence is busy with her career — she’s an important lawyer, and Henry is writing books.”

“Books? Really. Well, that’s pretty impressive.”

“I know but —”

Mauve laughed. “Look out that window, Harriet. The world is flashing by a hundred miles an hour, and in every one of those miles there’s a million stories like ours — imagine that. Mothers. We get none of the breaks. But we also get most of the blessings. You wait, there’ll be grandkids.”

“I would like that.” Harriet glanced out the window. “But right now, it looks like …” She sighed. “… rain.”

“Well, it is still spring, and spring means rain,” Mauve said. “Now how come you let your daughter-in-law talk you into selling your house and moving clear across the country when you didn’t really want to.”

Harriet swallowed and looked at her reflection in the train window. Then she turned to Mauve. “I lost the bet, and I am no welsher.”

Now it was Mauve’s turn to click her tongue and shake her head. “Uhm, uhm, uhm. Girl, that ain’t the reason; that’s an excuse. People don’t move almost three thousand miles unless they want to. You got to figure out why you wanted to.”

“I lost the bet.”

“Harriet,” Mauve said. “When my children tell me it’s time to put me out to pasture like some sorry-butt mule, I’m going your way — the long way. I will not go gently into that good night. But I will tell you this much. It will be because I’m ready, not because I broke my ankle hanging an ornament on some lame Christmas tree.”

“One word of advice,” Harriet said. “Get a GPS.”

“You bet I will. Now you have a safe journey. And Harriet, maybe you should program your GPS to help you find what you’re really looking for.” Mauve smiled, exposing the whitest set of teeth Harriet had ever seen.

And with that Mauve was gone from Harriet’s life but not her memory. She pulled her brand-new Moleskine notebook from her bag. She opened it across her lap, closed her eyes, and sighed. Now
she not only missed Humphrey, but from out of the blue, thoughts of Max percolated in her mind. Grief and missing someone was like that — sneaky, hits you all of a sudden when you weren’t expecting it. Harriet allowed herself to miss Max for a bit, wishing he could be along for the ride — but then again, Max might not have been too keen on the idea of a multistate, multicity trip on mass transit. Harriet felt a smile build deep down inside her gut. She liked to believe that now that he was in heaven helping build all those mansions he might be watching from way up high and could see the whole trip already planned out like a giant patchwork quilt. She clicked the top of her brand-new black gel pen and wrote:

Harriet closed her notebook and brushed her fingertips across the smooth cover. She leaned her head back in the seat and closed her eyes. It had been a tiring day, and it wasn’t even suppertime.

H
ENRY LEANED BACK IN HIS DESK CHAIR AND YAWNED.
H
UM
phrey ambled close. He sat on his haunches and stared up at Henry through his bloodshot eyes.

Henry leaned down and patted his head. “It’s no use, old man; I can’t write. It’s like I have completely forgotten how.”

Humphrey let go a howl. Then he whimpered.

“You need to go out?”

Humphrey barked.

“Okay, okay. I can use the break.” Henry glanced at the time on his laptop. “Geeze, I’ve only been working for an hour … feels like longer.”

Henry clicked the lead onto Humphrey’s collar. “Come on. Let’s go see the outdoors. It’s a beautiful day. Sun is shining, my wife is interrogating witnesses, my mother is taking some harebrained trip across the country, and I lost all my talent. Still, it’s a beautiful day.”

Humphrey finished his business and looked up at Henry.

“Oh, all right. Once around the block.”

Henry and Prudence lived on a lovely cul-de-sac. The houses were mostly split-levels with two-car garages and yards with maple and laurel trees. They still hadn’t met all of the neighbors, but from what Henry could tell the neighborhood was nice and quiet.

“I guess I’m a little nervous about her moving here, Humphrey,” Henry said. “I mean, I know it’s best for her, but … well it’s the dad thing. The business. I don’t know if she ever really forgave me for not following in my old man’s footsteps.”

Humphrey stopped, sat on his haunches, and looked up at Henry.

“But I couldn’t do it anymore.” Henry tugged the leash. “I am a lousy businessman and an even worse builder.” He made a noise through his nose. “Heck. I can’t even write anymore. And Prudence is not ready to try and have a baby. Maybe she doesn’t have any confidence in me; maybe that’s why. Things are not going so well.”

Harriet’s train pulled into Baltimore’s Penn Station at exactly 2:10 p.m. She waited in the cushy comfortable seat a little while as most of the other passengers grabbed their overhead luggage and briefcases. Harriet was able to keep her tote on the floor between her feet. But she had to pack her bag in the overhead. She liked watching the people move around. They said little as they went about their business. It was hard not to notice that some folks looked sad, others glad, and still others just plain frustrated — perhaps because they had business in Baltimore they weren’t looking forward to.

When she saw an opening, Harriet squeezed into the aisle, pulled her bag from the bin, and thought she might have broken her foot when it came crashing down onto the same foot with the busted ankle. “Oh my!” she said. Instinct told her to reach down and rub it, or at least look, but there were too many people in the aisle. So she pulled up the handle on her suitcase and set off down the aisle … limping and thinking, this is a grand way to start my trip.

Once she was on the concrete platform, Harriet found a bench
and looked at her foot. No apparent damage. But her instep hurt. “I’ll just have to favor this foot awhile,” she said.

Unprepared for the hustle and bustle of the passersby, Harriet’s head spun and she felt a tad disoriented and maybe a little too conspicuous. But the truth was that no one paid her any attention. Harriet felt a pang of fear wriggle through her body. She had never been so far from home — alone. Max had always been with her. Max always made her feel safe, and if the truth be known, Harriet never had to figure things out when Max was alive, not that she couldn’t. She often deferred to Max because it made him feel good. And even after he died, she relied on Henry or the folks at church to help her with home repairs and finances. But now, so far from home, she found herself needing to make decisions and choices she had absolutely no experience with — particularly when it came to trains and buses, motels and restaurants. It was going to be a long ride clear across the country to Grass Valley, but so far, Harriet was doing okay, making her way — even if her feet felt like they had been encased in cement. She made a mental note to check into purchasing a pair of Dr. Scholl’s footpads, considering that the people in the TV ads didn’t look so old. And she most definitely needed a pair of sneakers and some jeans. This she decided after noticing a greasy blotch on her dress. Traveling was dirty business.

Harriet took a deep breath and grabbed her suitcase by the handle. She stepped through the doors into the station. She had never seen anything so grand. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was about trains that made people want to design such elaborate stations. It was more like a museum. She passed through huge, tall rounded archways into the middle of the station.

She first noticed the gorgeous skylights above her. Round stained glass windows with patterns in green and blue and yellow. The ornate glass made her think about — and miss — Martha.

“Martha would love those,” she whispered. “I wonder how they got them all the way up there without breaking.”

She looked around for a ladies room and quickly found one. It was not as nice as the rest of the place. The smell was pretty terrible; two of the stalls were out of order, and the only one available was out of toilet paper. No problem, though; Harriet never left home without a small pack of tissues. She washed her hands, looked at herself in the mirror, and decided that she really didn’t look too bad. After pulling a comb through her hair and adjusting her bra, she set out for her next destination, a place to stay for the night.

Harriet checked her GPS and saw that Amelia had rerouted her onto Charles Street just outside Penn Station. She decided to name her GPS Amelia because it sounded nicer. And besides, the phone could speak, so it seemed only reasonable. She chose the name Amelia in honor of Amelia Earhart. Before she ventured out of the station she thought it might be prudent to ask at customer service about a nice place to eat and maybe to spend the night. A blond man in a blue uniform greeted her at a counter.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes, young man, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find a nice hotel around here. Not far. Some place I can get to on the bus.”

The young man smiled and pointed toward the station doors. “Inner Harbor has some nice places, like the Hyatt Regency.”

“Can I get there by bus?”

“Sure. Just head out to North Charles Street and wait for the bus. The driver will be able to tell you.”

Inner Harbor. Harriet liked the sound of it.

The sky had turned overcast and dreary for a spring day. But that was okay. Harriet would rather shiver from cold than sweat from heat.

Yellow taxicabs lined the street like a wide yellow river. Gray flower boxes with pretty purple flowers lined the sidewalk. But it was the giant aluminum man, or was it a woman, that caught her off guard. Right there, smack in the middle of everything, stood a
giant figure of a human being. There was no obvious way to discern if it was a man or a woman, and she figured it was probably meant to represent both sexes. A notion she didn’t understand the need for. She rather appreciated the notion that there was both men and women in the world. She never did go in for that whole unisex craze that struck way back in the early seventies when the Sit and Curl Beauty Parlor started serving men also and became a salon.

Harriet stared up at the thing for a few minutes until a bus pulled into the square. The driver stopped when Harriet waved. The door opened.

“Hello,” Harriet said. “Does this bus take me to the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Inner Harbor?”

The driver, who seemed a bit surly, wrinkled his brow. “No, lady. You need the 64. It’ll be along in a few minutes.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said.

She waited, still staring at the strange sculpture and wondering if a cab ride might be the better choice. “No,” she said aloud, “I said I was taking the bus and I am going to take the bus.”

Ten minutes later the 64 pulled up.

“I need to get off at the Hyatt Regency in Inner Harbor,” Harriet told the driver. “Could you be a dear and not let me miss my stop.”

The driver, a woman in her mid thirties or so, nodded. “It’s about five minutes.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said as she lugged her suitcase up the steps.

She found a seat toward the middle even though she would rather have stayed as close to the driver as possible. After all, she was traveling in what amounted to a foreign country to her, and she did not want to get lost. Even though Lacy had assured her that Amelia would get her where she needed to go. As long as she kept the battery charged. But she figured that was true not only of her Droid but her body as well.

Harriet sat down with a bit of a thud on account of the driver took off quickly, jarring Harriet into her seat.

“Goodness gracious,” she said as she sat back.

A man about the size of a redwood tree occupied the seat next to her. Harriet smiled but he looked away. She resisted the urge to tell him she was traveling clear across the country. He did not look the type to care about her travels.

The driver was right on schedule; five minutes or so later the bus pulled up to the curb. Harriet saw the driver glance in the rearview mirror. “Must be my stop,” she said to Redwood Tree. He promptly grunted.

“Now how do I get to the hotel?” Harriet asked the driver.

“It’s a short walk down Light Street. You can’t miss it. Just look for the tall ships.”

Harriet stood on the corner as she watched the bus take off. She looked in different directions until she had the good fortune to spot a woman about her age walking toward her.

“Excuse me,” Harriet said, “but can you tell me how to get to the Hyatt?”

The woman stopped and pointed a finger. “It’s just over there. Just keep walking. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said. She pulled her suitcase behind her and set off toward a building with more glass than she had ever seen in her life.

“My goodness,” she said out loud. “This is quite the fancy place.” She could see the overcast day, with its dark clouds, reflected in the glass like a watercolor painting. “I am so glad that is not sunlight,” she said. “It could likely blind a person.”

She headed into the hotel and was immediately struck with its grandeur. She walked in a circle, taking in the sight. All the glass on the outside provided natural lighting for the spacious lobby. She saw several customer service windows with young folks in uniform helping other customers.

She stood third in line and waited patiently.

“I’d like a room for the night,” she told the young man behind the counter.

He eyed her up and down, making Harriet feel like she had asked for something terribly impossible.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“No,” Harriet said. If she had a reservation she would have said so first.

The man looked at his computer screen. “Will you need a single or a double? Or would you prefer a suite?”

“A suite?” Harriet said. “Oh, goodness gracious no, young man. I just need a room to rest my wearies. I need to get back on the road in the morning. I am on my way to California.”

“I have a room with two queen beds.”

“Two? But I only need one.”

“That’s how the rooms come.”

“Well, okay. It sounds nice.” She liked the notion of sleeping on a queen bed.

A few minutes later a bellman approached.

Harriet thought her room was spectacular. In the middle sat two large beds with three pretty blue pillows stacked against the headboards.

The bellman placed her suitcase on a small folding table. Then he pulled open the heavy draperies. The view of what she assumed was the Inner Harbor made her feel a little dizzy at first.

“Oh, gracious, but we’re high up.”

“The bathroom is right through there,” the bellman explained. “And this is your climate control.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said. She dug down deep into her tote bag, found her wallet, and tipped the young man five dollars.

Harriet decided she would sleep in the bed closest to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the bed. She bounced twice, then three times, then four. “Comfy.” That was when she noticed the large television on the credenza-dresser. It was bigger than any
television Harriet had ever seen. “And I bet it gets a million channels of nothing.”

A short trip to the bathroom held more interest for Harriet.

“Oh my,” she said, “even the bathroom is ritzy.”

She admired the colorful tile, including a sky-blue stripe that went completely around the room, except, of course, for the doorway. The showerhead was big enough for an elephant, and a fluffy white robe hung on a peg near the shower door.

“A bath would be nice … a little later.” She rubbed her aching neck.

And after washing her hands and rinsing her face with cool water, Harriet went back to the spectacular view. She could see boats and sailing ships in the harbor and buildings that seemed to go on forever. She had heard about the National Aquarium and wondered if it might be the large blue-and-glass building on her left. She consulted the complimentary city guide on the desk. “Yep, that’s the aquarium all right.” She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “It’s going on three o’clock. Maybe I’ll visit tomorrow.”

Harriet pulled her phone from her tote and set it on the bedside table. There was still some green in the teeny-tiny picture of a battery. Lacy had showed her how to read the icon, and Harriet checked it often. Then she slipped off her shoes and rubbed her tired feet. Traveling was a tough business no matter how you went.

Her phone jingled.

“Martha,” Harriet said, “I’m so glad you called. I’m in Baltimore, Maryland. I’m fifteen floors up in a big hotel. It’s like … well, it’s like being in the sky, way up high like I climbed Jack’s beanstalk … you know what I mean, Martha. I can see so far. I had no idea the world was so big.”

“I am so proud of you, Harriet. What’s your next stop?”

“Well I’m definitely going to the Salt and Pepper Shaker Museum. But before that? I don’t know. I guess wherever Amelia sends me.”

“Amelia?”

Harriet laughed. “My new Droid phone GPS brainiac. She is so smart.”