Orange you glad we came home
- 7 hours ago
- 10 min read
“Sounds like we were in the right place at the wrong time,” I said. “See? Luck isn’t about avoiding danger. It’s about how good it feels when it doesn’t get you.”
“With all the forests in California closed for fire season, we’ll have to get better acquainted with familiar places instead,” Mom said the next morning as she dug through drawers for her running clothes. “And maybe meet some people here, too.”
“I’ve sniffed every inch of this town,” I humble-bragged. “I know everything there is to know about everyone who’s ever peed here.”
“Maybe you should get to know the people themselves, not just the distractions they leave behind.” Mom checked the key bowl by the door to see if she’d remembered to leave the car keys there for once. As usual, the Wagon keys were there, but not the keys to the around-town car. “I’m always in such a hurry to get stuff done so we can hit the road that I hardly know anyone here in town.” She started digging through the laundry, shaking shorts and jackets and listening for the jingle of keys.
“I bet Rick and Diane have missed me terribly.” I ran to the door before she could change her mind. “Let’s go find them right now.”
“There’s this trail on the far end of town that I’ve been meaning to check out.” She pulled the car keys from the pocket of shorts she’d worn so long ago that I hardly remembered them. “I was thinking we should go there this morning?”
“You mean there are districts of My Hometown that I’ve never visited and you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s paved. I thought you wouldn’t be interested.” She shrugged. “It’s down in the headlands by that old World War 2 lookout. You know, the one that sits like 10 feet in the air because the ground eroded around its foundation?”
“You mean Rapunzel’s tower.”
