Tiger Moths (2 page)

Irene put on a serious face. “No dear, I’ve got it. I will see to it that Paco strictly adheres to his routine. So you can be sure he is well cared for. And when you return he will be just as healthy and happy as he is now. I sure don’t want to be counted as one of the wicked. I know Paco will miss you sorely, so you all come back on time so he can celebrate your reunion.”

Ann had walked to the fence gate and held it open. “All right, honey, your dad has the car all packed and good to go. What do you say we get started? It is a long trip, you know.”

Eliza ran to Paco for one last hug and started toward the car. “Oh yeah, there is one more thing, Irene. Try not to step on Bill, the wooly bear caterpillar. He is crawling around here somewhere. One day he is going to be a beautiful tiger moth! So take care of him too.” With that, she turned on her heel and raced to the car. The Grayson mobile was loaded to the hilt, with the camper hitched to the back and ready to roll.

David laughed and leaned over to give Irene a warm hug. She was more like a grandmother to Eliza than a mere neighbor. “Thanks for doing this for us, Irene. You are one of very few people that she would ever trust with Paco, and now I guess Bill the caterpillar too. We do appreciate it. Oh, I almost forgot. Be careful on that last step on the front porch. Weather seems to be getting to those old boards faster than I can fix them. So watch your step, and I’ll fix it as soon as we get back.”

“I know what you mean. These old houses have character, but they come with issues too. But you know I love taking care of things here. You all go and have a great vacation. You and Ann work so hard all year. You deserve a break. Have a safe trip, and I’ll be careful on the porch.”

“Thanks, Irene, we will.”

David strode to the car and looked inside at his two passengers. “Okay,” he said, as he sat behind the steering wheel and closed the door. “Let’s do our checks. Baggage?”

“Check,” Ann and Eliza said.

“Snacks?”

“Check,” they said in unison again.

“Seat belts buckled?”

“Check,” Eliza said.

There was the sound of a click and then, “Uh, check now,” Ann added.

“Very nice, ladies. Now before we continue, let us lift up our prayers to our heavenly Father.”

All three bowed their heads and joined hands as David began, “Dear Lord and Savior, we thank You for this family and for the opportunities You have given to us to have this recreational time together. We praise Your name for the marvels of all creation. We ask You now for Your protection and Your travel mercies as we go on our journey today. May the words of our mouth and the meditations of our heart be acceptable to You, Lord. In Jesus’ wonderful name I pray.”

“Amen,” they all finished.

David turned the key in the ignition and set the car in reverse. So began the Grayson’s annual eight-hour journey to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. It was the destination of choice for all of them, especially ten-year-old Eliza, who could not wait to get there.

For the first hour Ann and Eliza sang songs, played hangman, and made a contest of who could spot the most Volkswagen doodle bugs on the road. Especially the red ones – they counted double points. Soon thereafter, Ann yawned and pulled a pillow under her head.

“Eliza, honey, I am going to take a little nap now. I was up all night getting us packed. Be a good girl and read your book so dad can focus on driving.”

Eliza settled back in her seat and obediently remained quiet for all of two minutes. Then the dam burst. “Daaad, how much longer until we get there?”

“Relax, my child, I will let you know when we are getting close; and we are nowhere near close yet.”

This would be Eliza’s fifth trip to her beloved ocean. It was a love born at first sight. At five she had never shown fear or the slightest hesitation when her father held her hand and led her to the beach. At first she thought he had taken her to the biggest sandbox in the world; and then she saw it – the ocean. There it was, so big, so beautiful, so beckoning to her tiny little heart. She could hardly believe that anything so wonderful could exist.

It was one of those magical pivotal points in the bonding process between a daughter and her daddy. A time when fatherhood really mattered, and the freedom of childhood fully blossomed. Father and daughter stood for a spell, gazing into each other’s eyes. She loved and trusted her daddy with her whole heart. In her child’s heart she felt the safety of his unconditional love. Her contentment spilled out in a gleeful giggle that shook her entire body.

Then their roles reversed. Now daughter started tugging her father’s hand. She practically dragged him behind her as she raced toward the beach and the ocean waves.

“Okay, honey, slow down. The ocean is not going anywhere and we will be here for a whole week.” He had told her that on the first trip and on every trip since.

Eight jabber-filled hours later, Eliza shrieked at the first sight of Myrtle Beach. Ann, just awake from a sound sleep, jumped at her daughter’s excitement. David laughed at both of them, and pulled the car into Myrtle Beach State Park. He drove up to the booth and showed his paperwork to the attendant, and then proceeded to their reserved camp site. They had perfected this routine, and always reserved the same site each year, a full nine months in advance. It was a trip set in stone, and nothing short of divine intervention would keep them from following this tradition.

“All right, sweetie, jump out and guide Daddy into the site.”

Eliza knew her father could probably park the Apache camper without her assistance; in her mind, he could do just about anything. Yet she relished the time she had with him, especially when she was asked to help out. Her current responsibilities included making sure the camper was properly placed without hitting the nearby trees or picnic table.

Out of the car and stationed at an angle now so that her dad could see her, Eliza started issuing the all-important directions. She was a natural-born take charge kind of girl.

“Dad, now listen to everything I say ’cause I can see everything and you can’t from where you are. Now start backing up; go to the left a little away from the table. Good, now straight back; keep going, keep going, a little more. Okay, now stop! Great job Dad; we’re in there.”

“He did well, huh, Mom?”

“You both did well, honey. Now let’s set this camp up before you two go running off to the beach.” Ann Grayson smiled at her daughter and then her husband. Eliza was often told by adults how much she looked like her mom – especially when she smiled. She hoped that that was true, for she thought her mom was beautiful.

In just under an hour the campsite was established and the father/daughter team was on its way to the beach. Soon the waves cresting into white foam were before Eliza. She took a moment to reflect on them, and then raced her dad to the water. Eliza was again riding the waves, building elaborate dissolving sand castles, and burying her dad in the sand.

And so the fifth annual Grayson family vacation commenced; and indeed it was as she remembered it to be. But as night drew near and the beach began to slowly depopulate, David finally had to call her in. As much as she hated leaving, she knew she would be back tomorrow. Besides, there was a campfire to be built and dinner to be fixed back at camp. To Eliza, this was vacationing at its finest.

It was almost seven-thirty when the happy duo returned from the beach. They were both famished. Eliza hoped dinner would be ready, and she was not disappointed. Ann had already gathered firewood and put the hotdogs, buns, and condiments out, with marshmallows to follow.

Eliza was a camper to the bone. She delighted in lighting the campfire, another chore reserved exclusively for her. Then there was the mounting of the ball park frank (or wiener as her dad called them) on her disentangled wire hanger and watching it sizzle in the flames. This would be followed by sweet, fluffy marshmallows that she would catch afire. Then she would quickly extinguish the treat with frantic blows to avoid burning them completely. Popping the gooey, charred remains into her mouth often produced mixed results of both pleasure and pain.

Eliza knew, even at her tender age, that there was a distinct culture involved in the practice of camping. To her, it was in an exciting and thrilling community of folks from all walks of life. The campsites were a place where a ten-year-old girl from Tennessee became best friends, if only for a few days, with an elderly couple from Canada, or a teenager from Ohio. It was a venue where Eliza could listen to their stories and make up some of her own. Tall tales and corny jokes and self-proclaimed legends were shared around the campfire, or maybe even just walking down the dirt road on the way to the bathhouse. It was an element in which she was more than comfortable; she thrived in the communal and festive environment.

Every camping year was the same, and every year was different. The paths they would walk, the wide variety of folks they would meet, and the dogs barking at the kids riding bikes remained constant. Then there was always that one-of-a-kind smell that resulted from a mixture of salt air, pine trees, and various dinners being prepared over open flames. The variables were the people themselves, and that was what made this part of the evening like a big game. These characters, of real flesh and blood, were more interesting and unpredictable than any work of fiction.

She remembered a time last summer when she had taken up with a retired Air Force pilot and his wife. He had been spinning a yarn about some mission he had flown in a far-away land called Korea, and she was fascinated. As the story reached its climax, the three topped a hill that allowed them to look out over the ocean. At that exact moment, as if on cue, two fighter jets from the nearby Air Force base appeared on the horizon and quickly approached. Her pilot comrade pointed out that this particular jet had unique maneuvering capabilities that allowed it to mimic the drops and pauses of a helicopter. Both pilot and youngster stood enthralled by the sight. In her mind, it had the beauty of a rainbow and the power of a waterfall.