Tilly and the Crazy Eights

by Monique Gray Smith

  “We stopped?” Tilly was disoriented. How had she slept through a stop?

  “Yep, quite a while ago. You were sound asleep, but you’re always on us elders ’bout being hydrated and it’s an awful hot one today, so thought I’d get you one of these.” He reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a second coconut water and proceeded to open it.

  Tilly was touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Poncho.”

  He winked at her. “Seen you drinking them all the time, so thought I’d try one, too.” Poncho took his first sip, then a long drink. “Not bad, not bad, Miss Tilly. I’ve decided it’s time to turn over a new leaf. No. More. Coke,” he announced.

  “No more Coke? Wow.” She sat up straighter in her seat. “That’s huge, Poncho.”

  “I know, right? But with my diabetes, I best start takin’ better care of myself. And this trip, my Rose and I, well, we needed this trip, Tilly.” His eyes left her and looked a few seats up to where Rose was sitting. “We still got a lot of livin’ to do.”

  Tilly tilted her head and nodded, reaching over and gently squeezing Poncho’s weathered hand.

  “Now, Miss Tilly, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna listen to my music.” He beamed. “Other than my family, this is the best gift I ever got.” He still couldn’t believe Rose had bought this for him and that she had even put his favorite music on it.

  “What are you listening to?”

  “Good ol’ Willie Nelson.” He offered her one of his earbuds. She welcomed an escape from her thoughts. The cord didn’t quite reach so Tilly cozied up closer to Poncho. She placed the bud in her ear, closed her eyes, rested her head on Poncho’s shoulder and let the music transport her to another time. A time when she and Mick would sing along to these songs while driving between Kamloops and Vancouver; a time when things were easier; a time when they were connected; a time when she knew what she wanted.

  When they entered Seligman, Mabel broadcasted from the driver’s seat, “Let’s drive the full length and then we can decide where we want to stop and eat and what we want to do here.”

  As it turned out, driving the main street of Seligman took all of thirty seconds, if that. The elders stared out the windows at the eccentric displays in front of the stores.

  “Are you sure we ain’t still in Vegas?” asked Lucy.

  “I know. It’s kind of wild, isn’t it?” responded Mabel.

  At that moment, they pulled up to a restaurant called Roadkill Café and Poncho jumped into the conversation. “Roadkill Café. Yummy! Anyone up for a bite to eat?” he said as he glanced around the bus.

  Rose shook her head vehemently. “Ugh! That’s disgusting.”

  Anne looked at Sarah, who moved her head from side to side with wide eyes. “Us neither,” Anne responded.

  “Uh-uh,” said Lucy with a crinkled up nose.

  Tilly giggled. “It’s a good day to be a vegetarian.”

  Poncho turned to Chuck, the only one who had not yet commented, and asked, “What d’ya think pardner? Shall we have us a li’l snack of roadkill?”

  Chuck looked to Bea. She lifted her shoulders and raised her hands. “I ain’t your keeper. If you want roadkill for breakfast, fill your boots. But I’m gonna find myself a muffin to eat with my Cheezies.”

  Chuck leaned forward and placed his hand on Poncho’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Count me in.”

  Mabel pulled into the parking lot of the Roadkill café and turned off the bus. “How about we meet back here,” Mabel looked at her watch, “in an hour and a half.”

  There was mutual agreement as everyone got off the bus to explore Seligman. Poncho and Chuck walked across the parking lot and entered the Roadkill Café for breakfast while the women all crossed the street.

  The women were drawn to the tall green building whose sign boasted “Best Espresso on Route 66.” Outside the store was an old black-and-white police car and metal tractor seats that had been set up for people to sit on. That’s exactly what they did, with Anne taking photos of them in various poses.

  “Sure am glad I never sat my butt in one of these,” said Lucy as she ran her hand over the hood of the police car.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Rose.

  “Me too,” added Sarah.

  Anne was quiet.

  The three women exchanged glances and then Lucy asked, “Why you not sayin’ anything, Anne?”

  Anne avoided their eyes and turned to walk into the store, but Sarah stopped her. “Uh-uh. You don’t get off that easy. Go on. You have to tell us, now you got us all curious.”

  Rose and Lucy stepped in front of Anne and blocked the path into the store, both women grinned.

  Anne rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Fine, but you have to remember I live in Toronto. And that Liz and I were quite political back in the day.” She paused and brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She hadn’t thought about this story for years and couldn’t believe she was about to tell it to these ladies. Anne looked at each of them, shook her head slightly and began. “We were at a protest in the mid 70s and things got out of control. Liz and I happened to be near the ones who started the out of control part and we got scooped up with them and shoved into a police car.” Anne leaned back against the car and tipped her head. “Much like this one. Next thing I knew we were at the police station, giving our statement and spending the night in a jail cell.”

  “Really?” Sarah’s eyes were wide. “Why is it I never heard this story?”

  Anne gave her sister a look. “Because nothing ever came of it. The police realized Liz and I had nothing to do with what was going on and promptly let us go. They even apologized for the confusion.”

  “But you did get to ride in a cop car, and not just in the car, in the baaack.” Lucy was in awe.

  “Yes, I did, Lucy, and I never need to do it again.” She stopped talking for a moment, her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t even thought of that day for years.” She took a last look at the police car and turned back to the store. “Now I really need an espresso. Come on. Let’s go inside.” Anne stepped between Rose and Lucy and continued into the store. She didn’t wait to see if anyone followed her.

  Once inside, they rummaged through the shelves overflowing with knickknacks, peculiar gifts, and some items that looked like they’d been discarded from Dollar Mart. Lucy and Rose headed down one aisle and it wasn’t long before Lucy had an armful of gifts for her grandchildren. She turned to Rose and Sarah, who were exploring the items on the shelves and said, “At this rate, I’m gonna need me another suitcase.”

  “At this rate, you’re gonna go home to the poorhouse,” replied Rose without even looking up.

  Sarah furrowed her eyes and shook her head. Rose was really starting to get on her nerves, and that took a lot. She sided with Lucy. “I think it’s real sweet, Lucy, that you be takin’ all those gifts home to your grandbabies. They’re real lucky to have you thinkin’ of them as much as you do.”

  Lucy smiled at Sarah, then glanced over at Rose and stuck her tongue out at her. When she knew Rose was watching her, she deliberately reached for another touristy snow globe.

  Meanwhile, Anne was meandering by herself when she noticed a middle-aged man sitting by the cash register. She made her way over and stood there for a moment before he looked up from his crossword, nodded his head, and said, “Mornin’.”

  “Good morning. The sign out front says you have espresso.”

  “Yes Ma’am, we do. Best espresso you’ll find anywhere along Route 66.”

  “Really? Well, in that case, make it a double.”

  The left side of the man’s face lifted slightly. “You’re going to go big time are you?”

  “I suppose I am, ‘going to go big time’, as you say.” She couldn’t help it, a smile crossed her face. “Most of this trip I’ve been drinking brown-colored water disguised as
coffee. So, yes, I like the idea of going big.”

  “Alrighty then.” He gave Anne a wink as he stood, reached for an espresso cup off the top of the machine and began to grind the beans.

  Anne remained standing at the counter. She found the store overwhelming. It was simply too much for her organized, librarian self. She closed her eyes and allowed the smell of freshly ground coffee to soothe her senses.

  When the gentleman set the espresso in front of her, Anne opened her eyes to thick froth settling on the top. With her thumb and forefinger on the handle, and her pinky extended outwards, she picked up her espresso. After all, there are some things that just must be done a certain way, no matter if you are in downtown Toronto or in a small town in the heart of Arizona.

  She lifted the cup close to her face, closed her eyes, and inhaled slowly, allowing the intoxicating scent to fill every cell in her body. With her eyes still closed, she took a sip.

  Heaven.

  Right there in that tiny town and in that tiny cup, was a piece of heaven.

  This was simply the best espresso that had ever crossed her lips. It made her think of Liz and how every weekday morning, at seven o’clock sharp, Liz would place an espresso and half a grapefruit in front of Anne. She would sip her coffee as she read The Globe and Mail and, once she was done the paper, she would eat her grapefruit, pack up her lunch, and head to the library for her day of work.

  As Anne stood relishing her great find in this quirky store in the middle of nowhere, she wondered what life would be like when the trip was over and she returned home to Toronto. Now that she’d retired, what would she do after she ate her grapefruit?

  Meanwhile, Sarah had her head buried in one of the shelves when out of the corner of her eye she saw her. The young woman.

  The one who had come to her the night they first discussed this trip.

  The one who she could see, but was pretty sure no one else could.

  Sarah stood upright and, bit by bit, turned her head fully to look at the young woman.

  The young woman smiled at Sarah and tipped her head just a tad. Sarah deliberately nodded her head in return, indicating, “I see you.” Then she glanced down the aisles and around the store to see if her sister or any of her friends were watching. Rose and Lucy were down another aisle nattering at each other as usual and Anne was on the other side of the store talking to the man behind the counter.

  Sarah turned back to the young woman and their eyes met. She was drawn into those eyes, wide and round in the middle and narrow at the sides, as if the tiniest stroke of a paintbrush had drawn them. They reminded Sarah of teardrops, and the color was like night sky when the moon is but a sliver. A quiver pulsed through Sarah’s body.

  The young woman’s eyes and head tilted to the right. She scanned the shelves full of blankets, then purposefully reached up and removed a Pendleton blanket. It was dark brown, with turquoise and white designs, and was absolutely gorgeous. Sarah wondered how she had not noticed it before.

  The young woman held the blanket in her right hand and tenderly ran her left hand over it four times. She then cradled the blanket in both her palms and extended it toward Sarah.

  At first Sarah wasn’t sure she was to take it, but, when she hesitated, the young woman nodded. Sarah reached out and took the blanket into her hands, feeling the weight of it. She looked at it and couldn’t help but run her hand over it, just as the young woman had. Sarah had no idea how long she stood there like that, but when she looked up, the young woman was gone.

  Sarah pulled the blanket tight to her chest, closed her eyes, and rubbed her cheek along it.

  There was no question. She must buy it.

  Sarah walked over to the counter where Anne was talking with the man and laid the blanket beside the till.

  “Wow, Sarah! That’s beautiful,” remarked Anne. She took a quick glance around the store, a bit dumbfounded, and asked, “Where’d you find that?”

  The man behind the counter, wide-eyed, added, “Yeah, where’d you find that? I put stuff away all day long and I’ve never seen a blanket like that in here before.”

  Sarah pointed to the back of the store.

  “Hmm, well I’ll be,” he said as he lifted the blanket and searched for a price tag. “Forty-nine, ninety-nine. Now that’s a bargain. You know what you pay in the city for a blanket like this?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Sarah nodded. She knew full well what a Pendleton blanket like this would normally cost. Which was why, until now, she’d never owned one.

  27

  Entering Sedona

  WHEN THE LAST of the Crazy Eights was on the bus and Chuck had tucked away Lucy’s stepping stool, Mabel announced, “No more stops. We need to get Tilly to Sedona by two o’clock cuz she’s going on a tour.”

  “A tour? What kind of tour?” Rose asked.

  “It’s a Jeep tour,” was all Tilly said, thinking that was enough information for them, but when she turned around she saw they were all waiting for more. Self-consciously she explained, “It’s a Jeep tour to visit the vortexes. It’s called Touch the Earth.”

  Tilly turned back to the front, hoping that was the end of it. But Mabel raised her pointer finger as if to say, “Wait,” and then, almost on cue, Poncho piped up and teased, “Miss Tilly, you really going on a tour to touch the earth?” She heard him slap his leg as he laughed. “You can pay me and I’ll take you out to the earth so you can touch it.”

  Tilly knew that elders only teased you if they liked you, but today she was feeling a bit tender, so the teasing stung. Mabel sensed this, and glanced over at her. “Don’t listen to them, Tilly. Go and do something that makes you happy. You’ve been taking good care of all of us, so now it’s time for you to go take care of you.”

  Rose asked, “What’s a vortex anyway?”

  Mabel could feel Tilly’s discomfort, so answered for her, “Well, you know back home when the wind swirls about and picks up a sage brush and twists it about in the air before placing it down again?”

  Even though it had been Rose who had asked, all the elders were now listening and almost in unison responded, “Mm-hmm.”

  Tilly was surprised at how interested they all were. “That’s like a wind vortex, but Sedona is famous for energy vortexes. The spiraling isn’t wind or water, it’s energy. Spiritual energy. The vortexes are known as spiritual places to offer prayer, meditate, or go for healing.”

  Poncho’s tone had changed. “Is that what you’re doin’, Miss Tilly? Going for healin’?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Tilly hadn’t really thought about why she was going on this tour. She had seen it online as one of the “must do” things in Sedona and it had intrigued her. But Poncho’s question had reminded her of the teaching of always knowing why you are doing something. Popular culture called it being clear on your intent.

  “Good. That’s good.” Poncho’s voice had softened. He understood the need for healing.

  As they drove through Sedona and toward their hotel, Rose let out a small yelp when she saw the sign Sedona Knit Wits. In a rare tone of excitement she shouted, “Look! Look everyone.” Rose pointed across the street. “Over there. That store. It was made for us.”

  “Oh, I think we could get into some trouble in that store,” Lucy said as she rubbed her hands together.

  Mabel yelled from the driver’s seat, “Oh no, Lucy. You’ve already had your quota of trouble on this trip.”

  “Whaaat?” Lucy tried to look confused. “Me?”

  “You already forgettin’ your night out in Las Vegas, Lucy?” Sarah asked. “An’ how you got lost an’ had to call home an’ then Chuck had to rescue you?” Sarah beamed at the memory and turned in her seat to look at Lucy. “That’s a story we all gonna be tellin’ for a long time.”

  The bus erupted with laughter and Lucy brought her hands up to her mouth trying to cover her smi
le. Rose rescued her friend by changing the subject and pointing back at the Sedona Knit Wits store. “That’s where I want to spend my day tomorrow. Who’s with me?”

  All the women chimed in agreement, causing Chuck and Poncho to look at each other. They weren’t sure what they were going to do, but they sure as heck weren’t going to spend the day at or with the Knit Wits.

  28

  The Crossing Paths

  WHEN TILLY CHECKED in for her tour, she was told to meet at the Jeeps in thirty minutes. She meandered out to the back of the building where tables and chairs overlooked the red rocks. The sun was at its peak and most people who were waiting for the various tours were seeking shade; however, Tilly found a seat in the sun, put on her shades and sat back, closing her eyes. She welcomed the sun and its healing energy. Her mind began to wander back home to Mick and the kids. She missed them! She missed their laughs, their hugs, holding Piper’s hand while she fell asleep, and playing catch with Grayson. She thought about Mick. It was hard to pinpoint what she missed about him. It seemed like it was a lifetime ago since they had really connected. She realized, sitting in the Sedona sun, that she no longer knew the heartbeat of her husband. She used to know what made him happy, what made him laugh, what made him sad, what infuriated him, but she wasn’t sure she knew any of that now.

  “Excuse me.” A male voice jolted Tilly out of her thoughts. “Is this seat taken?”

  She opened her eyes, but, even with her sunglasses, the sun was too bright. Tilly raised her hand to shade her eyes, seeing the handsome man belonging to the voice. She sat up a bit straighter and replied, “Uh, no. No one’s sitting there.”