by Langdon, L.
Gerri nodded eagerly and grinned. “I’ll try to be a good guest so they won’t get tired of me in the first week.”
Rich winced and looked away. “Well, there’s a problem with that. We’re shipping out. We didn’t know about it until after you had left South Carolina.”
Gerri’s heart plummeted. “How soon?”
“Three days.” He saw her crestfallen look. “But I’ve got some time off. We can see a lot in three days…”
Three days! That’s not an adventure. But then Gerri realized: he was trying so hard to reassure her. I have to stop being self-centered. There’s something else here… She interrupted him. “Where are they sending you?”
She could see the skin around his mouth tighten and she dreaded his answer. “The ‘Nam.”
All at once, her adventure seemed trivial. “Oh, no! I don’t want you to go. I hate that war!” Tears started streaming down her face and she didn’t even try to dry them.
“I don’t think anybody likes it.”
“Do you have to go?”
“I took an oath. I’m not going to run away.”
Gerri was ashamed for her last question. Now she wiped her tears. “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean…” She slid over on the front bench seat to hug him. “Just stay safe. Please stay safe.”
“I’ll be careful. I promise.” He moved to start the car. “Now let’s go introduce you to the Millers.”
Gerri liked the Millers. They were busy preparing for Mark’s deployment, yet found the time to be very gracious hosts. Ann was a short, light brown skinned woman. She was pregnant—Gerri guessed about five months—and she was going back to live with her parents in Chicago while Mark was in Vietnam. They had done considerable packing already, but they assured Gerri that she would be no bother. The men tried their best to keep the conversation light, but Gerri could see the worry in Ann’s face.
___
Gerri stood on the observation deck of the Space Needle and tried to memorize the view. This was Rich’s last day. Gerri had had a wonderful time sightseeing. She had enough material for several letters home—this was at least a good start to an adventure.
The first day, Rich had taken her to see Mt. Rainier. It was a looming presence from practically anywhere in the region, but it was especially impressive when seen close up. She was flabbergasted to find out that there was still snow by the roads—in May! And not just a little. She had taken one picture on her Instamatic which showed the Millers’ car, which Rich had borrowed again, parked on a mountain road. The road had been plowed and was free of snow, but at the side of the road next to the car was a vertical wall of snow, which had to be at least ten feet tall.
The second day Rich and Mark had duties to attend to, so Ann and Gerri drove to Seattle to shop. Mostly, they were window shopping, but Gerri did pick up some gifts for her family. Gerri had many exciting things to remember, including a vibrant public market seemingly in the middle of downtown and a book store that was bigger than the entire Pee Dee State college library. But the most fabulous was the Frederick & Nelson department store. It seemed to have an impossible variety of goods, and it was enormous. All of the stores in Gerri’s hometown could fit comfortably into a single floor of Frederick & Nelson—and there were some nine or ten floors. She was also introduced, in a fancy eatery on the top floor, to an ice cream-like dessert called Frango that was wickedly delicious.
Now, on the last day, Rich had again been her guide. They looked at the waterfront and the busy ferry traffic, winding up here, at the end of the day, at the Space Needle.
Rich looked sideways at her. “Have you talked to Ann about a ride to the bus station tomorrow?”
“No, I might stay a little longer.” Gerri stalled, “I’m going to help Ann load her U-haul.” Anything to stay off the bus.
“But you’ll be leaving soon, right? I don’t want to worry about you out here by yourself. And I’m sure that the same goes for Ma and Dad.”
“Mmmm.” Gerri’s first reaction was to get angry—to tell him that she was getting to be an expert traveler, and that three days weren’t enough. But she didn’t want to worry him—he had other more important things to worry about now. And, especially, she didn’t want Rich to call their parents. They might demand that she return right away, and Gerri was feeling stubborn. She wasn’t a child and she wanted to get all of the adventure out of this trip that she could. And stay off the transcontinental bus for as long as she could. Finally, she knew that she had to say something.
“I might stay for a little longer. I’d like to go up to Seattle and look at the Pacific Science Center again. Of course, I can’t stay very long. I’ll run out of money soon, so I’ll certainly leave before that happens.”
Rich looked skeptical, but chose not to press the point. “OK, but be careful.”
___
Gerri had thought about this a lot—last night as she was trying to sleep and this morning as she helped load Ann’s truck. Fortunately Rich hadn’t brought up the subject again, because Gerri was more determined than ever to extend her adventure. She wondered whether she should be ashamed of her reasons. She had daydreamed during the interminable bus trip about the prospect of running into Thurman after she got back—he hadn’t graduated, so he might enroll for the Fall semester—and casually mentioning that she had gone to the West Coast over the summer. What would he think of his hurtful words in the library then?
That was petty of her, but she didn’t care. Of course, ‘I visited my brother’ didn’t sound quite so adventurous, and ‘I visited my brother and had to cut the trip short because he was deployed overseas’ sounded even less adventurous. No, there had to be something else that she could do.
She didn’t want to worry her parents. Whatever she did, she would be sure to reassure them. And anyway, they had wanted her to have something exciting to tell Marilyn.
Gerri grunted as she picked up an especially heavy box to carry out to Ann’s rented truck. “These must be books.” The words sounded odd to her, and she realized that they had been largely silent all morning. After Rich and Mark had gone, there didn’t seem to be much to say. The only sound came from a TV set that Ann had left on, saying that it made the apartment seem less empty.
Ann glanced at the box. “I think so.” She flashed a weary grin. “You’ve been a lifesaver for me. I don’t think that I could even lift that box.”
Gerri tried to remember what her cherished map of the U.S. had shown about Chicago. All she could be sure of was that it was a long way from the state of Washington. Driving a truck alone over that route would be terrible. That wasn’t her idea of an adventure, but she felt compelled to ask. “Will you be all right? That’s an awfully long way to travel alone. I mean, I could…”
“Thank you ever so much, but you enjoy your vacation. There’s another woman from the base who’s going to ride with me and share the driving. She’s going to Gary, Indiana, which is right near Chicago.”
“Is there going to be space in the truck for her stuff?” Gerri had been amazed at how quickly the Millers’ boxes and furniture were filling the truck.
“She doesn’t have much. They sold their bulky stuff. We should have done that, too, like we sold the car. We’ll plan it better next time.” With that, she fell silent.
“I hope that next time Mark will be riding with you.”
“I hope so,” said Ann softly. Gerri wanted to say something encouraging, but couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound phony.
“Tell me about your plans,” said Ann after a moment. “What are you going to do for the rest of your adventure?”
“I wish I knew.” Gerri had already told Ann about her bus ride.
By early afternoon, they had finished, except for the TV set. Ann handed Gerri a bottle of pop—as they called it in Washington—and they sat on the floor, all of the chairs having been loaded on the truck.
Gerri was absently watching the TV. “You know, this is the first color TV that I’ve ever seen.�
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Ann smiled. “We really couldn’t afford it, but Mark had his heart set on it. Now…” She shook her head.
“It’ll be waiting when he gets back,” Gerri said optimistically.
As she said it, something on the screen caught her eye. It was a boat, a fairly large one, dwarfed by a wall behind it. It reminded her of the wall of snow next to the road at Rainier Park, but it was much larger. “What in the world is that?”
Ann turned up the volume. The announcer explained that this was a glacier, a river of ice, whose face was over 100 feet tall. The scene was in Glacier Bay, near Juneau, in Southeastern Alaska. They watched quietly for a minute before Ann spoke.
“It’s very pretty up there. Mark was stationed in Alaska before we came here.”
“Were you in Juneau?”
“No, we were in Anchorage, but we did go to Juneau once for our anniversary.”
Gerri glanced at her, but Ann was raptly intent on the TV. “Was it nice?” Gerri asked.
“Oh, yes. It was gorgeous—even prettier than Anchorage—at least when it wasn’t raining.”
“How about the people? Umm, did you have any problems?”
“No. Everyone was very nice.”
Gerri was starting to get excited. This could be just what she needed. And Ann made it sound so easy. “Was it expensive?”
“I don’t know exactly; Mark took care of all that. It couldn’t have been too expensive,” she said with a rueful smile, “Mark was still paying for the TV set.” She eyed Gerri curiously. “Are you thinking about going there?”
“Well…if I can afford it. That would be a great adventure.” She didn’t know how long it would take a bus to get to Juneau—her maps didn’t cover Alaska—but she decided that she could stand the ride. She had enough money left to stay in a cheap hotel for a few days.
“The airline fare is not too bad.”
Gerri cocked her head in puzzlement. Ann knew about her bus ticket. “Airline? Doesn’t the bus line go to Juneau?”
“No, there are no roads to Juneau. You’d have to fly or take a ship.”
“No roads?” Gerri couldn’t quite imagine that, but she wasn’t about to let anything discourage her at this point. Having pictures of a glacier to show her family… And her first airplane flight, to boot!
She came back down to earth and her shoulders slumped. “How much does it cost to fly?”
Ann gestured to the phone. “Go ahead and call a travel agent. The phone’s paid for until tomorrow. I hope it works out for you. You would definitely have something to take back home with you.”
When Gerri hung up the phone ten minutes later, she wore a thoughtful expression. She went to her luggage and counted her remaining stash of money, and then sat there thinking.
Ann came back from closing up the truck. “Well?”
“They have seats on tomorrow’s flight. They said that the tourist rush hasn’t really started for the summer. It’s mostly seasonal workers going up there now.” She grimaced. “That’s the easy part. The money would be tight. If everything went perfectly and I found a cheap enough hotel…” She stared at the money in her hands. “Yes, I can do it.”
Ann was beginning to regret her earlier enthusiasm. She remembered Rich talking about Gerri and how she could be stubborn, and she had a hunch that he would be none too happy about this. “But if everything doesn’t go just right…” she cautioned, “Rich and your family would be worried.”
Gerri concealed her flash of irritation. She was not going to let this slip away. Such an opportunity would probably never happen again. Saying that her family would worry was a guilt trip—and those usually worked on Gerri. But not this time. Gerri had been a dutiful daughter. She had been a dutiful sister. She had been a dutiful student. For that matter she had even been a dutiful girlfriend to Thurman, for all the good that that had done her. No, her family would not worry because they wouldn’t know about it until it had already happened.
But she couldn’t say that to Ann. “I’m pretty sure that I’ll have enough money. I’ve gotten pretty good at watching my pennies on this trip. And if I need more, I’ll look for one of those seasonal jobs. I don’t know what they do, but I can work hard and I’m strong. Maybe I could get a job if I needed the money. And I could always swallow my pride and ask my parents to wire me some.”
Ann didn’t know quite how to respond, but Gerri’s determination was obvious and Ann wasn’t about to rain on her parade. “Well, the seasonal work is mostly fishing or cannery work, logging, and some construction work. Even though the racial climate seemed good to us, no place is perfect. Your best chance would be in something related to fishing, but I wouldn’t count on it. They might not be willing to hire a woman, you know.” She tried for a more positive note. “But there should be something.”
Gerri’s lips were set as she reached again for the phone. “I’m going to try. I want to see a glacier.”
Chapter 5
Gerri spent most of the flight looking eagerly out the window next to her seat. She probably looked like an idiot, but she didn’t care. She was actually flying—and loving it. She had thought that she might be scared, but she wasn’t. Well, not much. Her heart was certainly beating fast before and during takeoff, but once they had climbed to cruising altitude, it didn’t feel that much different from riding in a bus. But with a much better view.
When she heard the altitude announcement, Gerri noted it (“air pressure, cabin pressure”) in a little journal that she was keeping. It was a collection of notes and ideas of things that she might use someday when teaching. Maybe the notes would be useless, but keeping them made her feel like she was somehow preparing for her teaching, even as she vacationed.
She made one half-hearted attempt to deal with her financial problems during the flight. She asked the elderly man sitting next to her if he knew of a cheap hotel in Juneau. He just raised his eyebrows, shrugged elaborately, and answered, “I have no idea. I’m from Anchorage.” Gerri must have looked blank, because he added, “That’s in central Alaska—600 miles away from Juneau.” He grinned at Gerri’s raised eyebrows. Alaska was over twice as big as Texas, she recalled, and this man, at least, seemed to take considerable pleasure in reminding others about its size.
Still, Gerri marveled at the vast scale of this country. From her home in South Carolina, 600 miles would reach almost to New York. Here, you were still within Alaska. And, his implication was clear: there were places within Alaska which were much further away than that.
Earlier, she had noticed that he was covertly eyeing her afro hairdo, and, before he had heard her voice, he had leaned over to ask her for a magazine from the seat pocket in front of her and called her ‘son.’ Granted, she was wearing pants and a baggy coat, and she was carrying a bag rather than an obviously feminine purse, but still… White people around here apparently weren’t used to seeing an afro on a woman. Or they weren’t used to seeing black people at all—Gerri had gotten a few curious looks, though thankfully nothing hostile as yet.
She reached into her bag and pulled out her letter to check it one last time. This letter was to tell her family that she was still traveling. It was also supposed to excite them about her trip and, at the same time, to reassure them of her good sense and safety. This was a difficult combination—especially since Gerri had her own doubts. She skipped over the first few pages. She didn’t need to check them; they just related what she had done and seen while in Washington. She found the last page and read her final paragraphs again:
…
Still, even though it’s been just great, three days is an awfully short adventure. I spent at least that much time just riding the bus to get here. So, since I have some money left, I’m taking a side trip. I’m going to Alaska!! And I’m getting my first airplane ride. In fact, I’m writing this letter as we fly. And, no, I’m not scared of flying. I was a little nervous when the airplane took off, but that’s all. It felt so powerful; it was awesome.
Don’t worry
about me; I’m being careful and I’m watching my pennies. I’ll write you soon, and I’ll be back with lots of pictures. Oh! And watch your mail. I mailed a box with gifts for each of you before I left Seattle.
Love you all and see you soon,
Gerri
She put the letter back in the envelope and sealed it. It would have to do, but reading it dampened some of her excitement. Her image of herself as an expert traveler had taken quite a beating in the past 24 hours. For starters, she had grossly underestimated how much it would cost her to get to SeaTac airport from the Millers’ apartment now that their car was no longer available. Then, when she went to the airline counter to buy her ticket, she got another unpleasant surprise. She had forgotten about the taxes on her fare—another extra expense.
So she was watching her pennies, all right. Watching them fly out of her wallet. The prospect of her running out of money in Juneau now seemed terrifyingly likely. She tried to shove those thoughts to the back of her mind. She would do her best to find a cheap hotel room and a cheap restaurant. And, more than ever, she would be on the lookout for some short term job. She really didn’t want to ask her parents for more money.
Soon, the plane was approaching Juneau and the seatbelt sign came on. Gerri put her money worries aside as she looked out the window beside her. It was beautiful, but more than a little scary as they came in for a landing. There were mountains everywhere and a ribbon of water below, but she couldn’t see any signs of the airport. Seattle’s airport had been enormous, with runways seemingly wherever you looked. She watched the ground get closer and closer. It looked like some sort of marsh. Finally, at the last minute, there was a small runway below. They touched down and Gerri realized that she had been holding her breath. She glanced at the man beside her and saw that he was grinning at her again. She just shrugged and smiled weakly.
By the time the airport bus had dropped her off downtown, it was early evening and the narrow streets were full of office workers heading for home. The downtown area was small and nestled on the side of a hill. It was picturesque: if you looked downhill from where she stood, there was a bay and a long channel of water with mountains on either side. If you looked uphill, there was a steep mountain looming up seemingly right behind the town. The sky had a solid layer of clouds which blocked the top of that looming mountain. There was a drama to this scenery that even Seattle didn’t have.
