Finding Karma

by Stacy M Wray

  “And what will Braden say?” he asks me, searching my eyes for an honest answer. “Would he ever get one?”

  I slowly shake my head and tell him, “I honestly don’t know what Braden will say. I can’t see how it’s that big of a deal. And, no, I can’t see him getting one.” A soft smile crosses my face when I think about how big Jeremy’s eyes got when I sat in that chair. It’s a good day when I get to blow his mind.

  After tossing all night, nervous and excited about the contest, Jeremy and I are up early to get to the photo place. Finally, I have the print in my hand. The photo of the lady from South Carolina speaks in a way I can’t explain. I’ve captured something about her – the way she holds herself tells a complete story in just one still shot.

  We’ve got fifteen minutes to spare when we arrive at the shop. I want to see how many photos were entered. Looks like I picked a good day – the easels are filled with entries.

  The shop owner recognizes us, smiling when she sees I have a photo in my hand. She extends her arm out, her expression asking if she can have a look. Handing her the print, I try to read her face but she gives nothing away while she studies it. Instead, she hands me a form to fill out while she places my photo on an easel. Jeremy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a twenty, tossing it on the counter.

  Before we leave, she says, “I’ll reach you by phone if your entry wins. Good luck.”

  Once we’re out on the sidewalk, I look at Jeremy, a goofy smile adorns his face. “What?” He nudges me to keep walking and so I do. “Are you going to tell me what you’re smiling about?”

  “I was counting while you were filling out your paperwork – forty-six entries.” I look back at the store and wonder how I will get through the day. “Come on. Let’s explore the city.”

  Filling our day was easy since most of it was spent inside the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Meandering up and down every aisle, reading every display and soaking in the greatness of every inductee helped keep my mind off of the contest. Almost.

  It’s nearly five as we leave the building, the sun blinding us as soon as we exit through the double doors.

  “I’ve always wanted to see that.” Jeremy’s eyes focus on the huge guitar mounted on the outside of the building.

  After walking several blocks, I check the time. It’s ten after five. “Put your phone up,” Jeremy commands. “Don’t do that.”

  “It’s okay, Jeremy. It was worth a shot. Let’s get the car and get back on the road.”

  Just as I’ve stashed my phone back in my purse, it rings and Jeremy and I stop dead in our tracks, staring at each other. I can’t move and he grabs my purse, digging for my phone. “Dammit…how much shit do you have in here?” He finally locates the blaring thing and swipes the screen.

  I watch his expression as he listens to whoever is on the other end, his eyes slowly showing excitement. He nods and says, “We’ll be right there.” Tapping the screen on my phone, he tosses it back in my purse and says, “Looks like you’ve got some prize money to collect, Hippie Girl.”

  Standing in the middle of the busy sidewalk, I hear myself scream and throw myself into Jeremy’s unsuspecting arms. He hugs me tightly and says into my ear. “I never doubted you for a second.”

  Splurging for a cab, we get to the store in fifteen minutes. Jeremy tips the driver as I’m already entering the shop.

  “Ahh, glad to see you,” the store owner says. “Your picture was a smashing hit, as I knew it would be.” I can’t contain my smile as I look at the photo I entered.

  She slides me an envelope full of cash across the counter, which I quickly tuck into my bag. Walking to the photo, she hands it to me and says, “Don’t stop taking pictures – you’ve got a real eye and a talent that’s ready to explode.” Her hands fan out, fingers wiggling.

  After thanking her for the opportunity, we’re out the door on our way to Jeremy’s car; a renewed sense of excitement fills every fiber within me. The strangest sensation travels throughout my body – some uneasiness; making me question every decision I’ve ever made until now. Shoving the thoughts to the back of my mind until I can better deal with them, I notice Jeremy lets me just be.

  chapter twenty-eight

  July 2008

  Jeremy and I head west towards home. After much discussion, and our dwindling cash, we decide it’s time to head back. Since I just won over four hundred dollars, I offer to buy Jeremy’s meals on the way home, but he won’t let me, telling me to save it for college.

  I’m sad to be going home, so afraid I will lose this sense of freedom I’ve gained being on this trip. Winning that photo contest meant everything. It gives me chills when I think about the lady’s words from Charleston: pay attention to the signs along the way. And then there are Steve’s words: sometimes our hobbies make the best career choices. I believe I met these people for a reason, that they were put in my path intentionally. Winning that contest gives me the confidence I need to make the decision I’ve been afraid to make. To pursue photography as a career. I’ve had enough people tell me that I’ve got what it takes, and it’s about time I believed it. I know I’m good, dammit, and I want to go to college to get better. I want to be better than better, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get there. I decide I’ll do research when we settle in for the night.

  Since we drive off the beaten path on our way home, we find ourselves in the small town of Dyer, Indiana at a diner we stumbled upon.

  We’ve already placed our orders, and I look around the diner, studying the photos hanging on the walls. The same one grabs my attention since it’s different shots of the same thing. Shoes. Tennis shoes, high-heeled shoes, loafers, even soccer cleats. My brows furrow and I turn to Jeremy.

  “What do you think is up with all the photos of the shoes laying on the sidewalk?”

  Jeremy directs his attention to the walls. His shoulders move up and down in a quick motion. “Beats me.”

  The waitress brings our meals and sets them down in front of us. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Can you tell me why there are so many pictures of shoes?” My thumb directs her to the pictures I’m referring to over my shoulder.

  She smiles. “Oh, that’s Shoe Corner, the corner of a hundred and ninth and Calumet. It’s a tradition around here that people leave their shoes on any of the four corners. No one really knows why or how it started. Some say a homeless man sat on that corner begging for shoes and when he left, people continued to bring them. Some have also dubbed it the Corner of Lost Soles.” She giggles. “Every Monday they get picked up and the decent ones are donated.”

  “Kinda cool. Thanks.” She seems pleased she could share her small town’s claim to fame.

  “No problem.” She slides our bill across the table and says, “Just pay at the register when you’re finished.”

  Once she’s left, my eyes slice to Jeremy, who is shoveling his lunch in faster than I can even slice my sandwich in half. “We should stop there – I want to see it.”

  Swallowing, he says, “What? That Shoe Corner? Why?”

  Tilting my head, wondering if he will shoot down my idea, I say, “Why not?”

  He shrugs and says, “Whatever.”

  Rolling my eyes, I kick him under the table and he glares at me. “What was that for?”

  Mimicking him, I say, “Whatever.”

  A small grin spreads across his face. “Okay…we’ll go. Jeez.”

  After paying for our meals, we climb in the car and I punch in the address the waitress gave me on our GPS. When we reach the corner, sure enough, shoes are on every corner of the block. I pull the car off the side of the road and get out, walking to the back of the car. Jeremy opens his door and calls out. “What are you doing?”

  Opening the hatch, I find my bag and unzip it. “Finding a pair of shoes.”

  He gets out and joins me at the rear of the SUV. He watches me pull out a pair of old Converse tennis shoes, and I smile as he slides his bag back towards him, his
intentions clear.

  We walk to the corner and Jeremy looks around at all the shoes. “I don’t want to just dump them – that’s no fun.” He looks up at the street sign and sees that a few people have tied the laces together and tossed them up on the sign, leaving them dangling in the air. I notice he ties his together so I do the same.

  No cars are coming and he throws his shoes up, hoping they’ll catch on the sign. One of his shoes hits the metal and makes a loud clink sound before hitting the pavement. Retrieving them, he tries again, only they fly over the sign. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. I’m trying so hard not to laugh and film from my phone.

  He’s serious about getting his shoes up on the street sign. After about the fifth try, his patience is wearing thin, and he looks over at me. “Are you fucking filming me?” I laugh to where I’m about to pee my pants. I’m dancing around trying not to let anything leak out while Jeremy’s throws are getting worse with each miss. “Shit! We’re not leaving here until I get these fucking shoes up on that fucking sign – I don’t care if it’s midnight.” By now I’m on the ground, tears rolling down my face.

  “It’s not funny. Get your ass over here and try it.” He stops throwing and watches me as I try to compose myself. I take my old, worn converse sneakers and gently toss them up and they land perfectly in the crisscross of the sign.

  The look on Jeremy’s face is priceless. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He throws his shoes down on the ground and stomps back to the car, kicking the tires to vent his anger.

  “Jeremy, we can’t leave until you make it. Come on – you just need to calm down.” I’m still trying not to laugh because I know it’s just pissing him off even more.

  “Just give me a minute,” he huffs.

  Finally, he walks back and I hand him his shoes. It only takes him two more tries and they finally cling to the metal overhang. He says nothing and we both walk back to the car in silence.

  When we’re both buckled in, he says, “Whose fucking idea was that anyway?”

  Pressing both my lips together to stifle my laughter, I finally say, “I just wanted to leave some. It was your idea to throw them on the sign.”

  “Fucking figures.” He pulls off into the road as we continue our way home.

  Making the journey home isn’t near as much fun as when we were driving without direction, stopping wherever we felt like. Knowing the final destination sucks the spontaneity out of it. We stop in Missouri and find a quaint inn to stay for the night. I’m getting a little tired of hotels, maybe being back in my own bed won’t be so bad.

  We get to our rooms on the fourth floor, standing in front of our doors. Inserting the key card into the slot, Jeremy looks over at me and winks before entering his room. “See you in the morning.”

  His door shuts before I even respond.

  I check the time and find it odd Braden hasn’t called yet. Then I notice he sent a text about an hour ago: Going out with the guys tonight. Will call later. Love you!

  I’ve barely spoken to him lately but maybe it’s just as well. I need time to contemplate and digest everything that’s going on in my head.

  I grab my laptop, plopping on the bed onto my stomach. Everything I read tells me I need to specialize if I’m serious about making photography a career. Which means choosing a photography school and not just choosing photography as a major at UCLA. My stomach churns, excitement and dread warring inside me. Could our relationship survive if we went to separate colleges? If I asked myself that question two weeks ago my answer would have been no. But now that I’ve been distracted, doing my own thing, my feelings for Braden haven’t lessened but my sadness from us being apart has. Would he understand? Surely he would. I would never expect him not to pursue his soccer.

  My head spins as I get ready for bed, wondering how in the hell I will get any sleep when my mind is going in every direction. I barely notice that Braden hasn’t called yet.

  The next morning, I hear a knocking at my door. Thinking I’m dreaming, I ignore it. Then I hear it again. I groan, looking at the blue glowing digits on the small alarm clock to the left of my head. Shit! I overslept.

  Crawling out of bed, I answer the door. Jeremy stares at me with an amused look on his face. “I’m sorry. I overslept. Can you give me twenty minutes?”

  Grinning at me, he says, “Sure. Give me your key – I’ll go get you some coffee while you’re getting ready.”

  I trudge to the dresser, grabbing the card from it and hand it to him. “Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.”

  I take the fastest shower ever, and while I’m drying myself off with the thin towel provided, I hear Jeremy slip in then hear the soft click of the door closing. Smiling, I think about how close we’ve gotten. After this trip, I know without a doubt he would do anything for me and I’d do anything for him. He’s like the brother I never had. I’m so thankful we got to be friends this year.

  When I’m finally ready, I throw everything into my bag, meeting Jeremy at the car. “Thanks for the coffee. I hardly slept at all last night.”

  His brows rise. “Everything alright?”

  “You mind driving first? I’ll tell you all about it on the road.”

  He nods, sliding behind the wheel while I climb in the passenger side. “So…I looked up photography colleges last night,” I tell him once we’re on the highway, waiting for his reaction.

  I can tell he’s trying to hide his grin when he says, “And what did you find?”

  “Well, I found out that if you truly want to be a serious photographer, you should attend a well-established school that specializes in it. Potential employers would rather see that on your resume than if you just majored in photography at some college.”

  He nods. “Makes sense.”

  When I say nothing, he looks over at me. “What do you want to do, Karma?”

  I feel like if I say the words aloud that it’s a betrayal to Braden somehow. We had plans and I may be about to break them, which makes me a horrible person in my eyes. I still can’t seem to get the words out.

  “Karma!” I slowly turn my head and look at him. “What. Do. You. Want?”

  His eyes keep flicking from the road to my eyes, waiting for my response.

  I quietly get the words out. “I want to attend Brooks Institute in Santa Barbara.”

  His eyebrows arch in surprise. “That’s supposed to be an amazing film school – I’ve heard about it.”

  “Oh, Jeremy, I was up half the night reading all about the courses. It’s only a couple of hours away from UCLA and Braden and I could still see each other on the weekends. I think it’s feasible– I really do.” My enthusiasm bubbles up and it’s hard to contain.

  “Did you apply?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “No, I didn’t go that far. I thought I’d better talk to my parents first.”

  He shoots me a knowing look. “What about Braden?”

  Shaking my head, I say, “I need to wrap my head around it before I even breathe a word. I know him…he’ll talk me out of applying if I haven’t already done so.”

  He nods. “You’re probably right. I think it’s a good plan. It could be worse…you could’ve picked somewhere on the east coast.”

  I lean back in my seat and worry about Braden’s reaction. “Somehow I don’t think Braden will be looking on the bright side.”

  I hear him sigh and say, “No…probably not.”

  We haul ass the rest of the day, deciding we can make it home by nightfall if we don’t stop for too long anywhere. We’re both ready for our own beds and to be out of this car.

  I pull into our driveway at eight forty-five and nudge Jeremy awake. He must’ve been waking up anyway since only one good poke works.

  “We’re home? Sorry for sleeping so long.” He gives me a half-smile, half-smirk.

  “It’s okay – I had a lot to think about.” He shoots me a knowing look and gets out of the car.

  “Let me get your bag for you.”


  We walk around to the back of the car and Jeremy lifts the hatch, lowering my bag to the side of the drive then shutting it again. He takes me in his arms unexpectedly giving me the best hug I’ve probably ever received. “I probably couldn’t have done this trip with any other girl. Thanks for a great week and a half.”

  I know this isn’t Jeremy’s M.O. so I don’t want to say anything to spoil the moment. I just hug him back.

  He pulls back and looks at me. I tell him, “You’re welcome, but I think I should be thanking you.”

  “Nope – no need.” He leans in and kisses me on my forehead. “We’ll keep in touch?”

  “Absolutely! You’ll be sick of me by summer’s end.”

  He breaks the hold, walking back towards the driver’s door. “Doubt it,” he says, then winks at me and slides in behind the wheel. I watch him pull out of the driveway and wave to him as he heads towards his home. It surprises me I feel a little empty the further away he gets.

  Picking up my bag, I walk through the front door. “Mom? Dad? I’m home.”

  chapter twenty-nine

  July 2008

  I’m lying in my bed awake, waiting for Braden to get here.

  He had called earlier in the week with the exciting news that he got to come home for a week. I have been dying to see him, counting down the hours.

  And tonight’s the night.

  He keeps texting me and telling me how close he’s getting, so I constantly peek out my bedroom window with every car I hear come down the road. It’s a little after midnight, my parents both sound asleep. We just have to see each other for a little bit before he goes home and crashes.

  I pace my room, unable to concentrate on anything else, when my phone dings in my hand.

  Braden: Come outside!

  My heart thumps abnormally, my shaky hands reach for the blinds. Looking out my window, I see Braden leaning against his car looking up at my window. He looks so gorgeous – the streetlight accenting his beautiful face, showcasing a huge smile; the one he reserves only for me. I bolt from my window and run down the stairs, trying to be quiet so I don’t wake my parents.