Walking the Crimson Road

by Perrie Patterson

  We’re finishing our last photo when I see Lauren and Mom waving at me as they’re walking in. I wave back and motion for them to come over. I hand the photographer my phone and Lauren’s and ask him to take a picture of me and my family with Big Al.

  We perform the very first dance we did at the first home game. It’s so familiar to us we do it perfectly. After the dance, the team lines up along the sideline, and we continue to cheer on the basketball team for the remainder of the game. We win! Big Al, the cheerleaders and my team, pose for a picture for the newspaper with the game’s top scorer and the head basketball coach.

  I wave to Mom and Dad as I walk into the locker room to change. I pack my uniform away and change quickly, adding Lane’s scarf to my outfit.

  Amanda walks toward the doorway. “Have a great holiday.” She waves as she walks through the door. I turn to face her and see Ashley standing in the hall. Scrambling, I take Lane’s scarf off and stuff it into my bag. I don’t want Ashely to see me wearing it.

  “I hope you have a great Thanksgiving, too. I’ll see you when I get back.” I pick up my bag and head out to meet up with my family.

  I get in the backseat with Lauren, and she shows me a bunch of pictures on her phone from her busy weekends, her friends, cheerleading and football games. I follow my sister on Instagram, but I love that she’s willing to share each picture and the stories behind them so we can get caught up. She asks me to show her some pictures from this semester. I pull up all the pictures I’ve taken since the end of August. There are a lot of pictures of Grant, so I explain about getting set up on a date with him by Bella and how I’ve actually met someone else I like more. I keep scrolling and pull up the only picture I have on my phone of Lane and me.

  Lauren’s eyes get big. “Hey, he totally looks like that guy from that eighties movie.”

  “That’s what I thought on the first day of class when I had to step over him to get to an open seat. Ever since then we’ve sat next to each other. I’ve had a thing for him since day one.”

  I explain a little about our secret meeting at the bonfire and how I broke the news to Grant. And how nice Lane was to wait for me to be ready to really date him. Lauren’s eyes are glued to me.

  “Wow,” she says, looking a bit star struck.

  At the airport, we get in line for boarding passes. While I’m standing there, I pull out Lane’s scarf and put it around my neck. While walking through security, I see Ashley and Amanda together. I watch them walk from security to their gate. We pass them, but they don’t notice me. I see that they’re both flying to Dallas on Delta.

  I text Lane before I get on the plane. He texts back, Let me know as soon as u land.

  “Do you follow Lane on Instagram?” Lauren asks, once we’re in our seats.

  “I haven’t asked him about his Instagram yet, but I should probably start following him.”

  My Instagram’s not private so he could be following me, and I might not know it yet. I still follow Grant, and he follows me.

  Lauren taps my phone screen. “Pull up Grant’s Instagram so I can see his posts.”

  She sees several posts with me and Grant together and makes the comment that we’re a cute couple.

  “Yes, I know he’s a great guy.”

  “He’s really hot and looks athletic.”

  “He’s on the swim team, and he also wake boards and skis on the Alabama water ski team.”

  “This must be your year Bex, dating two really hot guys that are crazy about you. I’m going to search for Lane on Instagram. What’s his last name?”

  “It’s Lane Townsend. His middle initial is K. Let me know if you find him.”

  “His Instagram is private. You’re going to need to send him a request. He has over 3,000 followers, wow, impressive,” Lauren says, showing me what she’s pulled up on her phone. I click request on his Instagram. My Instagram name is not my real name, so people that follow me really have to know who I am. I decide to post the photo of me and the family with Big Al that the photographer took of us right before the game today. I caption it “BAMA family meets REAL family.” “Happy Thanksgiving.” The flight attendant walks by and tells us to turn off our phones and to make sure they’re in airplane mode. I won’t be able to check to see if Lane notices I sent him a friend request for almost an hour.

  Lauren and I chat about what we want to do once we get on the island. We discuss riding bikes and going to the beach. I tell her I didn’t bring a suit, because I figured it would be too cold. I lean over the seat and ask Mom what the weather will be like while we’re there. She tells us it’ll be between 50 and 60 degrees. So, Lauren’s idea of going to the beach won’t involve a swimsuit. We land in Jacksonville and rent a car to Fernandina Beach. It’s almost an hour drive, so I text Lane on the way to the hotel.

  Hey, we r n the rental car.

  I see u are following me on Instagram now, @dancergrl.

  Yep, that’s me. Thx for accepting my friend request.

  Ur more than a friend to me. That stuns me, and I smile and gush. Lauren notices my extreme gushing.

  “Who are you texting?” she asks, looking at me with a gleam.

  “Lane, he’s following me on Instagram now.” I continue texting with Lane.

  What time will u arrive at the hotel?

  In about 40 minutes.

  Can I call u in an hour?

  Yes, I’d love that.

  *****

  After we get to our rooms, Dad sets his bags down and asks us about dinner.

  “We’re going downstairs to the restaurant, do you two want to come with us?” he asks.

  “I’ll meet you guys there in a few minutes,” I say, walking in my room. Lauren wanders down the hall following Mom and Dad.

  I slide the door open to the balcony and walk out to look at the boats in the marina. I feel the wind in my hair and smell the salt air. I love being at the beach and near the water. My phone rings and I look at the caller ID, its Lane. My heart skips a beat.

  “Hello.” I answer quickly.

  “It’s so good to hear your voice.” His voice sounds smooth.

  “Me too, I’ve missed you a lot.”

  “Are you about to go to bed?”

  “No. My parents just went to the restaurant to eat a late dinner. I told them I’d be down in a few minutes.”

  “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to hear your voice and talk to you.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow after I arrive on the island.”

  “It would be better if you called me later tomorrow night, maybe after 10:30. I’ll be at a family residence most of the day tomorrow and there’ll be a lot of people around and I want to be able to talk to you without distractions.”

  “You’re right. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving and a busy family day. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

  “I’m looking forward to it. Goodnight, Rebecca.”

  23

  #Blessed

  It’s cold as we board the ferry to the island. I wrap Lane’s scarf around my neck and over my mouth. I button up my wool pea coat with a gloved hand. Lauren is bundled up with her hood up and ear buds in. The scenery along the water is incredible. We even see dolphins following along next to our boat. The sun is shining, and there are only a few clouds in the sky. The forty-five-minute ferry ride is rich in wildlife sightings and gorgeous marsh scenery. As we disembark at the dock, the beach shows the tide is low, and the muddy bank is exposed with thousands of fiddler crabs. Lauren and I are like little girls excited to see live creatures on the beach. Mom says she loves the bareness of the aged driftwood sitting along the shore.

  A Greyfield Inn representative greets us and the other ferry passengers at the end of the dock with trays of sparkling water and homemade honey scones topped with cream and strawberries. Another man in uniform comes along and takes our luggage and loads it onto a trailer pulled by a golf cart. He leads the way from the dock to the Inn.

  We stroll down a sandy path covered in a canop
y of ancient oak trees dripping in Spanish moss. I take a few pictures with my phone as we walk. I’m in awe of the spectacular untouched beauty of this wild landscape I see stretched out before me. There’s a peacefulness and calmness here that I’ve yet to experience, a solitude that encompasses grace, beauty, and the freedom of each living animal untouched by human hands. There are very few cars. In fact, the only cars allowed on the island are those driven by the National Park crews or the workers at the Greyfield. There are no roads, just a single sandy path that stretches from one end of the thirty-mile island to the other. The rest of the island is thick in trees, covered in moss and dense low growing palm fronds native to the island. We pass large amounts of what appears to be horse poop along the way, causing us to constantly watch where we step.

  Dad turns to Lauren and me. “There are hundreds of wild horses living on the island as well as deer, bobcats, and other wild animals.”

  I glance at Lauren, “I can’t wait to go out and explore.” She nods in agreement.

  Our walk from the dock ends in front of the grand and glorious Greyfield Inn. It’s huge and stately. A staff member greets us at the bottom of the massive staircase and tells us a little about the Inn. “Thomas and Lucy Carnegie built it in 1900 for their daughter. In 1962 it was converted into an Inn by the granddaughter of the Carnegie’s named Lucy Ferguson.” He tells us we’ll see paintings of Lucy in the main living room. He goes on to explain that this is the only mansion still in use on the island today, but two other mansions were built around the same period for other wealthy New Yorkers who vacationed here during the 19th century. To the south, we can explore the Dungeness castle ruins and to the north we can explore Plum Orchard. When he hands everyone their keys, we learn our bags have been placed on our rooms. Lunch will be in the main dining room just after a cocktail reception in the living room. We walk upstairs to our rooms to relax and change into something more formal.

  Later, walking into the cocktail reception, I notice a lot of young couples without children. I also see some older couples and then one large family including a guy who looks to be Lauren’s age with a younger brother and sister of middle school age. They look like they’re with their parents and grandparents. Mom and Dad head over to get some wine while Lauren and I walk over to the fruit and cheese table. I notice the oldest boy from the extended family looking at us.

  I nudge Lauren. “You might have a secret admirer at two o’clock on the right. Don’t look now, but I think he’s walking over here.”

  “Hi, I’m Brian,” he says, looking right at me.

  “I’m Rebecca, and this is my sister Lauren, I say, turning toward Lauren who’s eating a piece of cheese off her plate, acting uninterested.

  “I’m a sophomore at Alabama, and Lauren is a senior in high school. We arrived an hour ago.” I want to make sure he knows which one of us he needs to concentrate on.

  “Cool, my family got here yesterday. I’m also a senior in high school. I’m from Atlanta,” he says, smiling at Lauren.

  I elbow Lauren to answer him. “We’re from Milton, just north of Atlanta,” She gives me the side eye.

  Taking my plate, I wander off to talk with Mom and Dad, who seem to be involved in a conversation with another couple. I can tell I’m no longer needed to help Lauren along in her chat with Brian.

  After cocktails and social time, we’re escorted into the dining room for a wonderful Thanksgiving meal. We enjoy a huge five-course lunch that takes a lingering hour and a half to finish. We have a great time talking, laughing, and catching up on family time. One of the Inn employees comes around table to table to capture photos of each family group. By the time lunch is finished, it’s three o’clock. Lauren and I tell Mom and Dad we’re going to our room to change clothes, then take some bikes out and explore the island.

  Back in the room, I charge my phone and change out of my dress and heels. I pull on a sweatshirt, leggings and a baseball cap. Lauren changes into something similar. Grabbing some bottled water from the room, I ask Lauren if she has some sort of small drawstring bag we can use. She has her Kavu, so I stick our water bottles inside, zip it closed and hand it back to her. We walk outside into the breezy late afternoon air and get two bicycles out of the rack.

  Unfolding the map, I say, “If we turn right, we’ll go south to the Dungeness castle.”

  “Sure, let’s go that way.” Lauren hops onto a bike.

  Lauren and I set off down the sandy path shaded with massive oak trees and Spanish moss. Deer poke their heads out of the dense foliage along the way. It’s a struggle to film with my phone and peddle the bike at the same time, but because the island is so incredible, I’m okay with risking a crash. We arrive at the Dungeness castle, park our bikes, and walk toward the ruins in order to get up close and look around. The castle was burned by arson years ago. What’s left of it is hauntingly beautiful. Rich brick and stone structures covered in ivy and moss stand stately and impressive. Lauren and I take turns taking pictures of each other along the brick walls and iron gates. We walk around the back of the castle remains and see wild horses grazing lazily in the grass. They are beautiful. They allow us to come fairly close, but don’t let us touch them.

  We spot a guy with a camera and tripod set up inside what’s left of a large fountain. I walk over and ask him to take a photo of us with the ruins in the background. I hand him my phone and Lauren’s. This island is truly a photographer’s haven.

  We hear something strange coming from the woods beyond the fountain.

  Lauren points in the direction of the weird sound. “Let’s see if we can find out what’s making that noise.”

  We walk to the edge of the wood and see another lonesome path near what used to be an old green house and standing to one side of the path is a deer and its fawn. The doe is pounding her front left hoof on the ground and making a screeching sound with each pound. It almost sounds like a bird’s screech. She’s staring at something straight in front of her, but we can’t see what it is. Lauren and I video them for a few minutes until they gallop off like gazelles. I motion for Lauren to follow me.

  “Let’s see if we can figure out what she was so concerned about.”

  We stop where the mama deer was but don’t notice anything unusual. We continue along the path, thinking it will lead to the ocean.

  A deserted beach is at the end of the path, where we find thousands of fiddler crabs. It’s like attack of the crabs, although as we walk toward them, they scurry away. We find a spot in the sand to sit. Lauren and I stare up at the sky washed in a beautiful orange sunset hovering low above the ocean.

  “This has been a wonderful day,” I say as I tilt my head back, drinking in a full breath of salt air. I love the beauty and wilderness of this island.”

  Lauren agrees. “I’m glad I get to share this with you.”

  I pull out my phone to take a photo just as a text from Mom shows up.

  What are you and Lauren doing?

  We r sitting on the beach just south of the Dungeness ruins watching the sunset.

  Dinner is being served near the fire pits picnic style. You should make your way back to the Inn.

  We hop onto our bikes and race back. Parking our bikes, we can smell barbeque cooking and walk around to the side where there are several fire pits blazing as well as tables lit with candles. A large buffet is set with picnic style foods and salads. Lauren and I fix a plate and walk over to join Mom and Dad.

  Dad asks, “How were the ruins?”

  “Really cool. We saw deer, wild horses, and a beautiful sunset on the beach just below the castle. We talked to a photographer and asked him to take a photo of us with the castle in the background.” Lauren pulls up the photos she took and shows them to Mom and Dad.

  “What did you guys do while we were gone?” I ask.

  “We did a little kayaking and took a nap.” Mom looks relaxed. “What do you think you guys will want to do tomorrow?” she asks.

  “Let’s ride bikes again and maybe
go north this time. What do you think, Lauren?”

  “I’m up for it,” Lauren says between bites.

  “Do you guys have any specific plans?” I look over at Mom.

  “We’re planning to ride bikes and probably go to the Dungeness ruins.” Mom gives Dad a nudge. If you do go riding again tomorrow be sure to take a picnic lunch with you and keep in touch with us throughout the day.” Mom looks from me then to Lauren.

  “Okay. Is there a specific time for breakfast in the morning?” I ask.

  “It’s between 9:00 and 10:00 in the main dining room,” Dad announces.

  One of the servers comes around and gives each table a basket filled with s’more’s kits. The staff lit a few more fire pits and has set chairs around each one.

  “You girls pick out a firepit,” Dad says, getting up from the table. “I’ll get your mother another glass of wine then we’ll join you.”

  Lauren and I get out our marshmallows and Hersey bars. I poke a marshmallow on my stick and work on making a perfectly toasted marshmallow. After eating two gooey s’mores, I’m feeling a little plump, like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

  “We’re going to call it a night.” Dad picks up his glass of wine and stands. He looks over at me and Lauren. “Please don’t stay out too late.”

  Lauren and I stand and give Mom and Dad a hug.

  “Happy birthday. I hope it’s been great so far,” I say, squeezing Mom.

  “It’s been wonderful,” Mom says, kissing us each on the cheek. “Goodnight, girls.”

  After Mom and Dad are out of sight, Brian walks over from his family’s fire pit and asks if he can join us.

  Lauren looks up at Brian with a smile and says, “Yes, have a seat. My mom and Dad just went to bed.” Lauren taps the chair next to her.

  “I think I’ll go to bed, too.” I stretch my arms over my head then look over at Brian. “Nice to see you again. You guys have fun. I’ll see you later, Lauren.”