I took a shower, and put the clothes on the table where the computer was already in the case, and where it's mouse and cord were all in there. I turned on the shower water, and undressed out of the pj's. I thought about the vast spaciousness of the shower, how I would miss that and it's big place to put shampoo and conditioner. There was something else I would miss from the shower, which you will find out what it is in later in this blog, or in the next one. But anyway, I dressed after taking a shower in it's hot drops of water, and writing on one of the panels what we were doing for that day, saying we were leaving Roswell and Goodbye for now. Also I talked to Dad, in his underwear in the bedroom. Julie was in the basement. I came down to talk to her, but she was in the shower, and didn't hear me when I talked. Everybody even Rebecca took a shower, and she and I talked about the event coming into place later in the day. When Julie came up with a towel on her head she got some coffee, and put milk in it. Then sugar. Stirred. On the trip, I had tasted black coffee, and it was really not tasty and hard. I didn't like it. But maybe this brown version would prove otherwise. I asked if I could get a straw and have a sip. I got a small thin straw from a drawer with that stuff, and sipped a little. It was very good. And I've had thirst for it and been addicted ever since. Although, I haven't even had another sip.
My parents haven't let me, they say it's too caffeinated. But I dream about tasting more, just a little more, every day. Day by day though my thirst for it gets smaller and smaller. I have no taste for it now. Only a little hope to try it out. Nothing big, no large wish. A petite sliver of a hope, nothing more, nothing less. But anyway, Lauren came a little after that as we packed up Mom and Dad's clothes, and taking our guitars and placing them in the bays. It was a long and strenuous process. Lauren and Rebecca talked and put up barbies in the R.V., and I played with some of my action figures, making their way from the basement into the R.V. I did a little story. Rebecca wanted me to bring more of my rescue heroes, so I brought two doctors (brothers who met up after the divorce in their youth), an army guy, an astronaut, and a country sheriff. Interesting combinations. I put them in the R.V., and was excused from taking clothes for a while. In the wet rainy weather I got them in the R.V., on their adventure, as Dad worked around with Marcos a little and put some stuff in the R.V. The hours drifted like forevers, as we all worked together to get it done. Putting things in the closet, textbooks in the drawer in the bedroom, talking to my sister's about some stuff. I was again sweating and stuff, and then it became noon.
We did not eat. There was no need to. We weren't exactly hungry either. Julie had to leave at 2:00, so she tried to stuff as much stuff and things into the R.V., as Lauren focused on the food, throwing some things into the trash, saying they were spoiled. In the meantime, I took stuff down, milk, meat, veggies and fruits, and snacks. We stockpiled on those. I also went into my room, over checked the closet for things I wanted to and didn't want to bring(and got a few shirts, placed my piggie bank with all my money in a secret place, closed the closet, slowly but surely, and turning the light off. I looked at all the stuff on my dresser, rechecked the clothes in there and got a few more, got a few knic knaks, picked up all the trash, and made my bed again. I put the blankets all on, and the pillows too, turning out the lamp light. So many memories in that bed, in the chair, by the smaller dresser, and in the room. Next I went into the restroom, got my toothbrush, turned out all the lights and flushed the toilet once more, and cleaned a little. I shut the toilet door, and the other one. After that, I took one last look at all my classics, and rechecked everything, pondered a moment, and then closed the door. I have made so many memories there, and will miss it dearly. I had also closed the curtain to the world. The people of Roswell will neither see my room, our house, or me, for a long time to come.
We took pictures outside of the R.V., family pictures and with Lauren and Julie. One of them behind a bay door, like their stowaways. All that and more is available on FaceBook and on the blog. Rebecca got a little teary and red in her eyes because this would be the last time we would see them, and that she would miss them a lot. I tried not to think about it as we took the pictures, and tried to be optimistic and think about seeing CA, but eventually I became thinking about it. They thought I was faking at first because a second ago I had been so fine, but I wasn't. Tears came out like the Niagara Falls in Canada. I hugged and said I would miss them. My parents were just as wet. Julie was about to leave for work, and I said to keep in touch and that I would write in the Peaks, Pits, Praises and Prayers journal. She got in her car, as we sadly said goodbye. She's such a cool, fun, awesome person. Good in books, writing, and grammar, and good on judging people, she looks at it from their side. I'll miss all that. She drove away in her red jeep. In the meantime, we continued to pack and pack for 30 minutes with Lauren. I then started in the kitchen and living room and office and dining room and guest room, with Rebecca by my side at the beginning. I looked at the places all around our house, making one last sweep through it, remembering all the memories by the pool, all the games and the fort, and taking the trash down, and times on the grill. Inside, I remembered so many times, like when I hid from Mom as a toddler, or my midnight snacks in the kitchen. In the office my serious discussions with Dad, comfortable talks in the living room, and Thanksgiving meals at the dining table, plus breaking glass from a cabinet. The weirdness of the little bedroom, and the sick days of sleeping in the bed, with the T.V. on Disney Channel, far away, my toes feeling the grains of sand in the bed. Where we eat, talk, converse, and make food.
Farther up in the hallway the times of hiding behind corners and laying on the yellow couch, plus hopscotching on tiles. Sleepovers and forts in the den, plus ideas and computer typings, and all the Christmases. In Rebecca's room her tantrums and times of hurting me, plus the time I hid in the closet from Mom. In the bathroom in the hallway, the weird sick times, and on the staircase periods of jumping down. In my own room, all my friends in there, and the phantoms and times of Mom coming into comfort me, plus the time I cracked the window with a stick, and so many other memories I can't even count. It was hard saying goodbye to my room, the space I had, that would soon be replaced by a few cabinets and window sill, and the quietness and retreat. I mean, it's my room! I did back out eventually though. I moved up yonder to my parents bedroom and the circled area with it. Times of under the covers, pillow fights with Dad, talks to Mom, and times of sleeping on the old brown couch now replaced by another one. Dad looking up stuff with us over his shoulder, Dad seeing things cool and funny. In the closet my times of playing and pondering, in all the clothes and quiet. In Mom's office, my old nursery, where I penned phrases and wrote two Christmas letters, a screenplay called Stuck In Space, and numerous short stories and essays. Also the time looking in the closet. I took up my computer bag and shut out the light. At this point Dad was yelling for me to come down, we were about to go. I said one minute, I wasn't finished yet.
In the bathroom, all Dad's magazines and business books, the time I put all these chemicals in the bath, even ketchup, and times I smashed into the walls of the shower and times I played and pretended the white tile floor was a tundra, or looked out of the window and saw the yard, and thought. The times I had washed on the sink and even the time I got my first haircut by Dad. In the towel closet I looked and closed the door, and in Mom's closet. I haven't done much in there actually, but there is a string to the attic and the one room in the house I haven't looked in yet...
The top level is where I bathed, played, talked to my parents, and sometimes slept. It's a good place of the house. I jogged downstairs, looking lastly at the top level, and then the second one (where I talked, relaxed, played and slept), and finally back to the first. I peeked in the basement for a moment, but I didn't go totally in, just thought about all the times of looking at new stuff, the evil baby, all the fights between good and evil in Toyland, and the weddings in the bathroom, plus the time the Goodloe's came in there because of a tornado. In the other room, with the T.V., I remembered all the plays and movies I had watched and been in, and also the forts and times of hiding, plus sliding. And my entrances through the outside door. I said goodbye to the place I'd had all my fun, and turned out the light, and went through the garage. Ah, the garage. The stinky place with all the tools and lawn mowers, plus the generators and bikes, and all the numerous garage stuff, nails, tools, paint, everything. It has two large garage doors and one small one. No cars ever go in, actually. Their always out in the driveway. I opened the door and fastened quickly again when I was out by the boat, for two reasons: One, because I was afraid of rats, and two, because Dad had told me to come on. I did, and put all my stuff in their places of the R.V.
We made the motor go, and Dad with Mom's help backed out and got forward again, with her telling him to go left, right, back, and forward with her hands. We were now facing the street, in the narrow pathway of the trees on both sides. Dad and Mom put the jeep connected by the Blue Ox towing. All the cables, you know. I was sad, we were about to leave. We were told to get inside, and watched the yard as I thought about all my playdates, birthday parties and events we did in the front yard. Rebecca secured her barbies from falling. I checked my books over and put my computer on the table. Lauren came back in. We hugged her and said goodbye, we would miss her so. Her style, fun, and places she took us. She said we would still do video chat and phone call. And we said a prayer, all as a family, as I spoke it hoarsely. She went out, and Mom and Dad did to still hook up the jeep. I ran open the door, jumped down off from the asphalt into the wet ground, and it was a big jump. I ran as fast as my legs could go, as she was unlocking her car and opening the door. I rushed on her and hugged her tight, with my mouth dry and my eyes wet. Dad then told me to come as Lauren waved goodbye and took pics from her phone. I sat down on the big rock on the right, the little bowled field, with the forest on my right. I was a little sad, but ready for what the second leg of the trip had to offer.
In the R.V., we put the windows up and drove out, pulling right. I saw an orange gun I had left there when Zach had come over, and didn't have time to put it back then. Well, that's something to do when we return in June. To put that orange gun back. Hope it doesn't get too dirty (I know it will though). Anyway, we went through Roswell, but didn't go on Canton Street or past the city hall, just to the left of Rhea's through more neighborhood. I saw Crabapple, and said, "See you next year" to it. I probably won't see it until I go into it to enter it, to go into it for school. I await the day. We were soon out of Atlanta on the road, the interstate. But we had a problem presented to us. Our hot water wouldn't work, when we tried the hot water to wash off our hands. We decided to fix this, since we know where to go in Atlanta. Cummins South Repair Center is in a town called Forest Park, where a Georgia State Farmer's Market is also. We pulled into a parking lot with building with metal slating and a hill with another warehouse at the top, and a small place for pets. On that hill also was some trucks. You come down through a entrance, which has metal fence and barbed wire. We went in, and parked in front of an area with porch and awning. We stopped the R.V., and Dad and I went inside.
In a small lobby with R.V. supplies and a long counter with computer and papers, and a desk behind, an old man with glasses and a bald head stood. I looked to the right, seeing a waiting room with T.V., and black leather chairs, with a coffee table in the middle of all that and two restrooms behind the T.V. I had brought my phone and my bio of B.F., and also "To Kill a Mockingbird." Mom and Rebecca came too, and Rebecca brought some snacks. Did I forget to mention on the very right along the wall there was a vending machine, with a window by the restrooms, and on the left wall there was some generators? No? Oh well, you know now. Anyway, as Dad told the man he wanted them to look on the R.V. and take it in their shop, and the hot water was gone, he came in with us to the waiting room. I sat on the couch with Mom, and Dad was at a spinning desk chair by the coffee table. Rebecca was in one of the leather chairs, with the poles at the bottom. On the coffee table was some R.V. magazines. I read a little of the bio and told some of the info to Mom as she facebooked, as Rebecca snacked on goldfish and Dad talked to her, on his iPad a little. I also had some conversation with MBT on the texting. She said she would've hated her parents for taking her on the trip away from her friends, and we talked about a few other things. I went to the restroom. It was rather boring, eating, drinking water, and reading, and repositioning ourselves. Dad talked to the guy at the counter, and it became a small world. They had mutual friends in the paint business. Can you believe that?"
It was good though, and I got to new chapters in my book. I was sad that their was no hot water, what would that mean for my shower? That was the thing I told you earlier I would miss the most about the shower, it's warmth and hotness. I was also disappointed we had prepared so much, and that we only went a few miles. Dad even talked about maybe going back to the real house. But then we would have to open it up again, disarm it, go through the whole process of saying goodbye again, and make me do it all over again and ponder over old memories once more, which would be a boring rerun for you readers. So we thought of finding a campground in Atlanta, when it was done, but we didn't want to do that either. The sun was almost down. Mom suggested we could see the aquarium and stuff. But for some reason Dad said no. We decided to go back home. They pulled the R.V. out in front and declared that they didn't have the part to fix the R.V., but a mobile guy did. Dad called him, and said we would come back in the morning from the house. Outside in the rain, Dad changed his mind, went back and asked the man if we could actually stay the night at the Cummins. It hadn't occurred to him before. So we parked by the hill, and hooked up to the electric plug. We stayed on our water pump, a chamber in the R.V. that stores water and is used while we're on the road and not connected at an R.V. park to city water. I walked the dogs up on the hill, by all the generators on the top. There were several anthills I tried to avoid. We unhooked the jeep and when the slides came out we got in the jeep and rode around the cool small town of Forest Park.
It was night, and off the highway we saw gas stations, storefronts, and a sign saying The Georgia Farmers market. Beneath a hill was a building with a detachment, with a roofed walkway and garden, and brick walls. I couldn't see much in the dark. I did see people, mostly Latinos, on raised platforms with all kinds of goods, and an end of a truck that released all the stuff. Mostly food. Dad told me we would see it more bustling on the 'morrow, that they got the food from the trucks and put it up there for people to sell. I couldn't take any pictures, my phone images were so dark. We looked at the door for the restaurant, and saw it to be closed. So, we went around and found a Subway, and we ate some of our sandwiches, after waiting in line, and seeing a lady get a meatball sandwich. It was a good one, but had some sketchy nighttime people. We took my unfinished half (I got a foot long and ate 6 inches of it) to the R.V. where later when Dad was watching T.V. I ate it. So yes, that night Dad slept in the front, as the guard "dog", with the bed in, on the couch part. I slept in the back with Mom. So ended our first day. Well, it wasn't the best start to the second leg of our journey, but it was a nice detour. Made for a good blog. We were sad we had left and uneasy about the new venture and what it might bring, and hoped it would be all okay. So, that area of blogs where we were at home is over, and so if you missed it go back and read it.
The second leg would have a host of interesting characters and places, and that was only in the first three weeks!
And hear now ends the blog post detailing the first day of the second Leg of Bourne's Big Trip,
Andrew.
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