It was true, but sometimes I didn’t want to go through bumpy patches to learn a lesson.Books and writing allowed me to live other lives without taking on any risks.
“I won’t, Momma.I am going to be with my friends,” I assured her.I stopped writing and closed the front cover of my notebook, slipping it and my blue pen, underneath the seat for safekeeping.My dog, Fawn, was in the back of the pickup, sticking out her tongue with delight.I put my hand on the warmed glass and told her, “It won’t be long before we arrive.”
Every summer, we would stay at my grandmother’s cabin in Moose Creek.It was my second abode.I loved everything about it.We were less than an hour away, and I got more excited with every turn.I knew that road better than any other.I took a deep breath.The air was crisper there.Moose Creek was my family’s breath of fresh air from our average lives.
We stopped at the closest rest stop to let Fawn out to go potty.As she trotted around the grassy area to take a squat, my parents and I took turns entering the restroom.I hurried through the convenience store to the unclean toilet.It was important to keep the stop times to a limit so we would arrive as fast as possible.I thoroughly washed my hands in the sink and spent too much time with the soap, so I didn’t dry my hands with the towel.Instead, I shook my fingers out, causing water droplets to fly all over the store.I pushed the glass door open with my elbows, making the bell above the frame chime.I ran back to the parking lot, not looking back.One more hour felt like a lifetime.Fawn was panting, Momma was hungry, and my stepdad wouldn’t stop talking about his urge to fish.We jumped back into the front and buckled our seatbelts.
“I can’t believe we are almost there.I wish we visited more.”
“Me too, but I have to work.You are lucky.Most kids don’t go anywhere different in the summer.We could always send you away to some church camp instead,” James, said.
“I know.Thanks for taking me.Moose Creek is a special place.”
My stepdad sighed.“I guess.It is just a town, though.”
“It’s not just a town for her though, Honey,” Momma said, running her fingers through my hair.
The poles in the back of the truck wiggled as we paved our way to paradise.Every summer, the last hour of the trip felt like the longest for two reasons.The first was that anticipation consumed me the closer we got to town.The second was that there was no radio station that could reach where we were.The radio waves of 105.1 THE ROCK!did not travel far enough past the rest stop, making there little to no reception.On various corners, a song’s chorus would break through the speakers and then turn back into static.Music made things more digestible.A good song could make time pass as fast as lightning strikes.Songs had a power over me.A sad song could make me withdraw myself, while a pop song could make me giggle like a little girl.And rock made me feel all kinds of emotions at once.Without the radio, I was left to wait, with nothing to cushion my eagerness.
When the truck eventually pulled up to the log cabin, my stepdad turned the key so it would stop idling.My grandma was sitting in her rocker on the front porch, waiting for us.
Grandma was old and typically kept to herself, except if there was any drama, she became the center of it.I noticed she looked skinnier than usual.She had short gray hair, fake teeth, and a sunken face while depicting a welcoming manner.
“Could you get out so I can talk to Grandma?”I asked my mom, as I scooted closer to her so she would have to open the door.
My momma got out of the truck, and Grandma embraced me.She looked proud when she exclaimed, “My God, Penny, you have grown.Your curly blonde hair is now wavy because it’s so long, and your legs are already tan!”
I peered down at my legs.Somehow, they were already darker than my usual pale white shade.Summer started only a few weeks ago, and I went swimming as much as possible.
“How have you been?”
“Oh, you know, the usual.I’ve been here and there,” my grandma replied.
“When did you get here?”
“A couple of days ago.I had the neighbor boy help me get my bags in.It’s nice to be back here.It gets too crazy in Butterfield during the summer months.Life slows down here instead of speeding up.”When we ran out of topics to discuss, she held my gaze for a minute.“Go help your mom with those bags.”
I liked helping out, so I ran toward the truck and grabbed a bag from the top of the tailgate.Fawn jumped out of the back and followed close behind my heels.She always made sure to be by my side to protect me.
When I walked into the familiar house, I knew my grandmother’s cabin was falling apart at the seams.I could roll a ball from the kitchen, and it would roll out the front door.The floor was uneven, the walls had cracks, and the plumbing barely worked.None of us mentioned how bad it was to Grandma because she would break down and say everything was perfect.She refused to get maintenance done and liked to “jimmy rig” things.Jimmy rigging was her way of fixing things, which mostly consisted of using duct tape.In a year’s time, things had gotten progressively worse.But it wasn’t the house or the duct-taped pipes that made me want to come to town every summer.It was my friends, the creek, and the peaches.
Moose Creek was known for its delicious peaches.The town’s population was one hundred and thirty-three people, and everyone knew each other.There was one store in the town center called the Peach Pot that sold everything from toilet paper to homemade peach ice cream.Despite the small population, many traveled to pick peaches, fish, swim, and be tourists.
Technically, no one in my family lived there all year round, except we were not vacationers either.Moose Creek felt like my home.Townspeople welcomed me with open arms each summer like I was their own, and I had met many friends over the years.I was fourteen going on fifteen, and I felt like I could finally break out of my sister’s shadow.
My sister used to come with us until she moved to a big city and stopped having time for us.I craved to be cool like her, even when she acted like I was a burden.For once, it was just me.My sister wasn’t there to make me feel like I wasn’t enough anymore.I would go swimming, hang out at the library, go to the park, see my friends, eat peaches, and have a great birthday.Nothing was stopping me from making memories over the summer.
I laid my orange travel bag on the bed in the room I typically stayed in.The majority of the room was full of junk, or what my grandma considered treasure.My grandma became a hoarder after my grandpa passed away.She filled the hole he left with material items.After a failed attempt at owning a ceramic business, she bought things she didn’t need because she claimed someday, she might need the stuff.I was shocked to find the bed was spotless and a pathway led to the bathroom.She must have worked hard to “clean,” meaning she had moved the stuff to a different location before we arrived.I rubbed my hand over the moose quilt laid on the top of the bed and thought,wow, that’s fitting.
Even though I enjoyed my time in the bedroom the previous summers, I didn’t want to waste any more time reading in a congested room full of random items my grandma purchased.I only had so many more years of being a kid and wanted to spend them wisely, like my momma wanted me to.I was itching to walk down to the park and see if any of my friends were there, but I knew I had to visit with my grandma for a little longer.She was the one who let us stay, and it was the noble thing to do.
I exited the bedroom to join my mom, grandma, and stepdad in the cabin’s small living room.Fawn was lying on the rug underneath my mom’s feet.I bent over and gave her a mini pat on the head.She looked up at me with her bright brown eyes and wagged her tail back and forth.The furniture in the cabin was all different colors, making it look like rainbow vomit.One chair was red, the couch blue, the tables had a plain wood stain, and piles of books were stacked behind the chairs to hold them up.
“Sit down, Sweetie.Your grandma was talking about the story of when she first bought the house,” my mom said.
I shrugged but immediately fixed my obvious disinterest with a polite smile and nod.
James gave me an all-knowing look.He knew that she told the story every year.Heck, she practically said it every week.We all nodded and laughed at the optimal moments so my grandma would be pleased.
