When I woke up it was still dark out. I had slept through my watch alarm, and it was nearly 6:00 am. I hurried to pack up and climb down the hill to the road. I was happy that I'd gotten a couple miles further down the line and headed on, without much thought.
Soon afterward though, the sun rose and I noticed it was in the wrong place. I'd become overconfident in my navigational skills, pulled out the walking stick, and checked the compass. I was going in the wrong direction. The sun should have been behind me, but instead it was on my left. It only took a couple more steps to fully realize that I'd made an error. When I'd left McDonald's the evening before, I went down the wrong road. I should have been on Route 30. But just up ahead I saw a sign saying I was on Route 41. Not good.
I had that little bead of sweat forming on my forehead, and my blood pressure increased. I hated screwing up especially after so many screw-ups before this. But, it was what it was. I turned around and headed back from whence I'd come...back to Gap.
When I got there I saw exactly what I'd done wrong. Good ole' Route 30 continued west, but I'd taken Route 41 south. I went back into the McDonald's I'd visited the day before and regrouped.
While I was working, I noticed that one of the employees was walking around talking to each table. She held a hot pot of coffee and offered a free refill to any party who might want one. I myself had a cup and eagerly accepted such a generous offer.
That's when she and I got to talking...
Ellie Chandler - Manager of Three McDonald's (at store 7213)
I learned that she was actually a manager of this store and two others in Pennsylvania. She had stopped by to make sure all was well. And she was not shy about telling her story...
A Scottish ex-pat--with an accent to match!, she moved to the US when she was only 17, and met her husband who courted her while he drove a cab. He was always making sure he would be the one to pick her up at her DJ job (which she still does for various radio shows).
After they got married, they had two sons. One was a veteran of Desert Storm and was wounded in an IED explosion, severely injuring his leg and the side of his body. Thankfully, he recovered and is doing well. She volunteered to go into the Veteran's hospital while he was there, entertaining the other injured men at the same time. I friended her on Facebook and we stayed in contact.
I guess I was procrastinating. The sky grew darker, and an internet weather agency predicted snow and sleet later that afternoon. Realizing that I still had a long way to go before I reached Lancaster, I packed up and prepared to leave. Ellie said goodbye and walked on to the next table, who was just as happy to make her acquaintance. And, I headed out into the gray afternoon.
That is when one of my hardest treks began. I continued down Route 30 toward Lancaster, walking faster and faster, as I tried to avoid the weather and perceived that it was changing and becoming more ominous.
About halfway between Gap and Lancaster - near a region called Paradise, ironically - the freezing rain began. I stopped and pulled out a trash bag to wrap the backpack in, while also donning my rain parka. The air was cold now - below freezing - and I put on the gloves that my Protector had given me a couple weeks before. Now it was a matter of simply walking forward through the coming storm.
And, I did. I passed by interesting, but vacant, farm stands, small pubs and a hundred little stone house-residences. It was well over ten long miles. And, just on the edge of Lancaster, having departed from Route 30, I reached a Burger King. My laptop was nearly out of battery power. And, as I looked outside, the sleet had turned to a full-fledged snow. Large clusters of flakes were covering everything in sight.
I was wet, sweaty, dangerously cold and tired. I contemplated what would be necessary for me to sleep outside. But, it didn't compute. In desperation, I sent a message out on Facebook for funds or a way to get a room for the night. Amazingly, two people offered to help at the same time
While I messaged back and forth, a group of Mennonites entered the Burger King, with men in their black coats, shirts buttoned to the chin, women in colonial-style dresses, and old men will long beards. They were quite jolly and seemed to be enjoying the snowfall. Each of them waited patiently to order at the counter. I found it strange under the florescent lights, and beside the ads for meal deals to see these folks ordering hamburgers and fries.
One of the teenage guys came back to the area where I'd set up my laptop. He sat right down next to me and we talked for a while. He was so cool! He was right up on everything trendy. He had a bit of a beard that wrapped around his chin, with no moustache--Lincoln-style. I couldn't help but ask him questions about his life style.
Did he have a chance to decide whether he wanted to join the modern, electrified, technological world? "Yes!" he said plainly. But the comfort and simplicity of his life with candles and horse-drawn buggies was so pure and simple... His way of speaking was a bit odd. There were no contractions, like "I'd"--it was "I would," etc. He was fascinated by pop culture, but he prefered his place just short of participating in it. I was amazed.
He chomped down on his Whopper Jr., enjoying every bite. For a moment, I sat watching him as he ate and smiled. What a neat life he had led! He'd had the choice to do anything he wanted. But, because he'd grown up knowing the peaceful ways of a non-technological world, he chose to immerse himself in that culture. He wasn't trapped there. No one held him against his will. He chose to follow his ancestors.
His uncle, or father, or whomever, wearing a short black hat, called him back over to the doorway to leave. The girls and women who were part of this group held their little brown paper Burger King bags beside them. They were pretty and filled with the joy of this strange excursion. Every person in this party seemed thrilled to be doing something different and at the same time proud.
What truly shocked me was that one of their elk actually worked at this Burger King. I was completely thrown off by this! He folded his Burger King shirt and joined his brethren at the door. When they were all assembled, they headed out into the snowy parking lot, where two horse drawn carriages awaited them.
The Spark let me see, in my mind, that they would all return to their houses. Once there, they would each go to their separate bedrooms or bed areas and disrobe for the night. Once under their downy quilts, they would slip into unconsciousness, happy, satisfied, safe and secure in the knowledge that they had the best of both worlds. They had the naturalness of their traditional lives and the option of enjoying the advantages of the space age culture around them. I thought, for a moment, just how well they must sleep...
For myself, time was growing short. The snow was piling up outside. One of the people who offered to help me buy a room prevailed. This same Protector reserved a room at a Day's Inn for two nights. I was drop-dead thankful. Had he not helped me, I would have to find a way to sleep on the wet snow. It was just another way that things seemed to work out at the last minute. But, I knew it wasn't luck. It was intention and attention from someone who cared that I was in trouble, and was willing to help me out.
I checked out the route to the hotel. It was a good three miles. Ugh! I didn't fancy walking that in a snow storm. Just then, another donation came in. I sighed, with a smile on my face. I left and walked to another restaurant. There, I ordered a Coke only and looked around online for a cab. In the gathering gloom of the outdoor weather, I located a cab company and set up a ride to the hotel. Within 10 minutes the cab arrived. I ran outside and threw my backpack in his back seat, Having already known where I was headed (the Day's Inn) he found the shortest way there--or so I supposed. I later learned that he'd taken a longer way there.
He was a cool guy though - the driver - and we talked about his business on the way to the hotel. When we arrived, he let me know it was about $15. I gave him $20 and he left satisfied.
When I went to check in I had no problem, except that they required a $50 deposit for cash stays--returnable upon checking out. My room had already been paid for by the Protector. Still, I had to set this money aside for it.
It was not a big deal. And, I received my key-card for the room. I have to say, checking into that room was one of the most satisfying times of my life. The Protector had gotten me my first room way back in Milford, Connecticut. Now, he'd set up in Lancaster for two whole days. What a feeling of relief! And, after a long shower, I settled into my bed. Sleep was immediate.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.