You Found Me

by Joel Cobbs

  I packed my laptop, iPod, toiletries, and others things I knew I needed. I also packed my razor and some extra blades. I packed my pillows and blankets just in case.

  I have this obsession with my stuff. When I go to a hotel, they never have all the stuff I need. They have one sheet and one blanket and had two pillows with no stuffing whatsoever. I take my bedding and pillows so I can stay warm and have all the support I need.

  I know it's crazy, seeing as I've been told that many times. I just like things a certain way and prefer them to stay that way. Sometimes that involves taking some extreme measures, such as unmaking my bed to remake a temporary one, but I sleep better at night which is the most important thing.

  The trip was just a few minutes away. We were gonna pack everything up in the company vehicle and start driving down. It was late morning, not really the crack of dawn but not a decent hour to be up in my opinion. I'm usually up way before dawn, but that doesn't make me a morning person.

  Early Risers and Morning People should never be confused. It's a common misconception that they are one and the same. While they do both get up in the morning around the same time, they handle this time in very different ways.

  Morning People awaken and greet the day with a smile. They gently tap the wondrous tune their alarm clock plays, thanking it for its good work. They carefully remove their covers, savoring every second of their first steps into a brand new day; a new beginning awaiting them. They place their feet on the floor and feel the crisp coolness of the flooring beneath them, causing them to sigh. They rise, stretch out what was once their dreams, waving to the birds perched on their windowsill, and make their way into the day with a smile on their face and a song in their heart (often Lovely Day, Bill Withers). Those are Morning People.

  Early risers get up because it's necessary. They stay in bed, hoping that evil screeching is just a dream and not reality, immediately letdown by the harsh truth. They slam their fist on the “snooze” button and wait another five minutes. Another slam, another five minutes. They continue putting it off until it's too late. They once again slam their fist on their alarm clock, this time hitting the “off” button. They grumble and grown at they jerk their warm covers off of them and try to just get it over with. They place their feet on the floor, quickly jerking them back and muttering under their breath about how the floor feels. They stretch in vain, trying to wake up what feels like dead muscle tissue. They wear a monstrous frown on their face and glare at the birds outside, daring them to sing, causing the birds to fly away as fast as they can. They, too, have a song in their hearts (Take This Job and Shove It, Johnny Paycheck). Those are Early Risers.

  As you can see, there is a big difference between the two. I belong to the latter of the two, and have no issue with that. Mornings have never agreed with me, not in the slightest. For some reason it feels like I'm being forced into something I don't wanna do and I hate that feeling. It's like a kind of helplessness that finds its way towards me, hurling at me at a million miles an hour. It's crazy, I know, but that's just how I am.

  “You ready?” Dad called out.

  “Yeah,” I said quickly and lifted my things up. It was going to be a long trip down there. Four or five hours I think. I was carrying three bags of luggage. It seems excessive, but I don't travel light. I have to be prepared for anything and everything that will happen. Like I said, I have this nasty issue with my stuff.

  I carried my stuff downstairs. Dad had a much smaller pile than I did. My thoughts wandered for a moment towards what it was like when Mom traveled with us, then returned. I needed to concentrate for this week. Work had agreed to give me the time off and Dr. O'Nassis was actually excited about it. I wasn't really excited, but I wasn't upset about it either. This would be some good time away from everybody and give me a chance to collect my thoughts. I wasn't sure if that was going to help anything or not.

  “You ready?” he said. “As ready as I'll ever be.” “Did we forget anything?”

  “Probably.” We went over the list.

  “Shirts.” Check. “Pants.” Check. “Underwear.” Check. “Socks.” Check. “Bathroom,” he paused, “Stuff.” I smiled. Check. “Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant.”

  “Doesn't that technically fall under bathroom stuff?” I asked.

  “Hey,” he said. “It's my list.” I smiled again. Check, check, and check. “Alrighty, I think we're ready then.” We loaded the stuff into the car, then went over the list one last time and decided we had every thing we needed. As we opened the doors and started to get in, Dad reached for his pocket and paused.

  We went back into the house and found all sorts of things we forgot. Wallets, phones, chargers for the phones, keys, chargers for whatever else we were taking, and a few other things. We chuckled and gathered the things we'd forgotten.

  ------

  We pulled in and out of a gas station at a Rosetta Falls exit on I-65. There were two Rosetta Falls exits: the one we always take to get home and the one we use to head south. They're about six or seven miles apart from each other, not a big difference really. We are located right in the middle of the two highways that lead to each. The tank was filled up, we bought some snacks to tide us over, and we headed south.

  The radio was set to something I couldn't make out but knew. It was like the kind of music you hear in a department store. Soft enough that it didn't distract you from your shopping, but loud enough that you could hum along with the recognizable songs.

  “So what do you want for breakfast?” Dad asked.

  “I dunno. What all's on the way there?”

  “Hmm. There's not much in Morgan County. There's a Cracker Barrel, Shoney's and a few other restaurants at the Cullman exit though.” Morgan County was just south of Lewis County, and Cullman was just south of Morgan County. I don't know much about the place. The farthest I've been from the Interstate there is the Cullman Flee market, which is visible from the interstate, so that's not saying much.

  “We're driving pass the Golden Corral in Birmingham, right?”

  “I think so,” he laughed. “Don’t know if I can wait that long. I rolled my eyes.

  “Har har har. Could we stop there for lunch?”

  “Possibly. Don't see why not.”

  “Cool.”

  “Now what about breakfast?”

  “Cracker Barrel would probably work.”

  “They have good meatloaf.”

  “For breakfast?”

  “Definitely,” he said in a playful way. “No, just in general. Can't seem to recreate it.”

  “I'm thinking that's one of the reasons they're still in business.”

  “Really?” he said sarcastically. “When did you get so smart?”

  “When you weren't looking.”

  “Just my luck.” There was silence. We both wanted to talk, but neither wanted to be first. There was a lot to talk about, things that involved us and things that didn't, but we couldn't bring ourselves to speak about them.

  “What movies did you get?”

  “Um, Raging Bull and Citizen Kane.” “Ah, 'rosebud.'” I laughed.

  “Oh yeah. Interesting twist, I must say. If it wasn't such common knowledge it would have thrown me off completely.”

  “Why do you think he said that? I mean, what's the significance?”

  “I didn't know at first. It was an interesting choice of words- or word. I looked it up online and found different opinions. My favorite was on Wikipedia.”

  “Gotta love Wikipedia.”

  “I know. Easiest way to find information, whether it's accurate or not. I've noticed it's gotten better though.”

  “Didn’t they start regulating it or something like that?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “Ya know the guy who started it’s from Huntsville.”

  “Really?” I asked. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “Yup. I forgot why he started it, but I’m sure he’s happy he did.”

  “Judging from the s
ize of his wallet, I’ve no doubt. Anyways, it said that 'Rosebud' was linked to the only moment in his life when he was happy and poor. When I realized that it made me wanna cry. Thinking back to how he was a little boy, then going with...” my mind blanked.

  “Thatcher?”

  “Yeah, Thatcher. He was a jerk. I mean, taking Kane away like that. I mean, I know it was his mother's choice but still.”

  “She just wanted what was best. That's what mothers do.” There was a moment of tension. Both of us were trying to avoid the subject of Mom, but it wasn't easy.

  “What was the other movie?”

  “Raging Bull.”

  “Is that the one about the boxer?”

  “Yeah, have you seen it?” He nodded. “It's no Star Wars, but it's pretty good if you like dramas and the F-word.”

  “Oh yeah. I didn't realize you could say it that many times in the same movie.” My Dad is obsessed with Star Wars. He firmly believed and could often prove that everything since 1977 could be linked back to Star Wars.

  “Wait,” I said. “When did you go see it?”

  “In 1980, when it came out. Had to see something until Star Wars came out.”

  “I thought it came out in '77.”

  “It did. There were two sequels, remember?”

  “Five, as I recall.”

  “Um, no. There were two sequels, then three prequels. Big difference.”

  “Being?”

  “Okay. Lucas, that's the guy who made the films.”

  “Yeah, funny.”

  “Just making sure. Lucas did them out of order, which was actually a good idea. He did the fourth movie first, then the fifth movie, and then the sixth. Then he came back after twenty years and started them again, doing one, two and three.” I just stared at him. He laughed, “I don't expect you to understand. It's something only a true Jedi could see.”

  “Right. So how can you see it?”

  “With the Force, young Padawan.” I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Here's our exit.”

  “Thank goodness.”

  “Watch. I shall use the Force, young Padawan, and change the light.” We got off the interstate and got to the four-way stop. I looked up.

  “Dad, there isn't a light.”

  “See? I made it disappear. You must touch the power that is within.”

  “Uh-huh. How about we just get to the Cantina, Solo, before the Gungans eat everything?” We both laughed.

  The parking lot wasn't completely full, but there was a decent amount of cars there. It took us two trips around before we found a parking space, which felt like it was in a different parking lot. We walked in the terrible heat, each step making us more and more thankful we were about to go inside somewhere and be able to sit down. We passed all sorts of cars, ranging from Lincolns to Fords.

  “Do you know if it's supposed to rain while we're down there?” I'm not sure why the question came to me, but it had.

  “Don't think so,” he said in a rather unsure way. “Well, that's good.”

  “You'll be indoors most of the time so I don't think it'll bother you so much as it will me.”

  “True,” I said, “but I'll be the one all alone in the hotel room looking outside at the depressing gray sky.”

  “And while you're inside looking outside I'll be outside wishing I could be inside.” He opened the door and we walked in. We worked our way through the various items in the store, most of which didn't appeal to us. There were Fourth of July items, shirts with cute sayings about summer on them.

  “How many?” the lady asked us. Two. “Right this way.” There was no wait like I'd expected. The lady, obviously getting close to her retirement, led us straight to a table. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”

  Our waitress wasn't too far behind her. She thanked us for coming and we put in our orders. She returned with our drinks, mine being sweet tea and his diet coke.

  “I like eating here.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said.

  “Where do you think they get all these things?” Along all the walls and hanging from the ceiling were various items that dated as far back as the early 50s. Whether all of it was unique or not, I wasn't sure.

  “They probably get it from garage stores, flea markets, and-” his Blackberry interrupted. It was playing the Star Wars theme. I rolled my eyes as he answered it.

  “Hey.” Pause. “We're in Cullman.” Pause. “Nope, no trouble with traffic.” Pause. “Just getting something to eat.” Pause. “I think Barry got them.” Pause. “Okay, see you there,” and he hung up. “Gotta love John Williams,” he said.

  “Is that who called?” I asked. He gave me a funny look.

  “That's the guy who did the Star Wars music.”

  “You know his name?”

  “Of course. He's done some of the greatest movies out there. He did Jaws, E.T., Indiana Jones, and a bunch of others.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said. “The same guy who did Jaws did Indiana Jones?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ha, I don't think so.” The waitress came by and filled mine and Dad's drink.

  “You're food will be out shortly.” We thanked her and she walked away.

  “Still don't believe you.”

  “Alright then,” he said. He started clicking on his blackberry. I wasn't sure what it was he was looking for, but I knew he had to be wrong and I waited for his face to show such. I started eating my food, my usual egg sandwich and hashbrown casserole. I knew he was wrong, so I had no trouble eating. The casserole was delicious, practically melting in my mouth. It was great, arguably the best they've fixed so far. I was already through my third glass of sweet tea and was ready for another.

  “There,” he said with pride and turned his Blackberry. There on the Wikipedia page, was a man named John Williams. I looked up at him unconvinced. “Scroll down, smart guy.” I did so and found out just who this man was.

  He had 45 Academy Award nominations, 5 wins, 21 Grammys, and had scored music for some of the most famous music. Not only did he do the movies Dad had told me, but he did many more I didn't expect, like Jurassic Park, Memoirs of a Geisha, and even Superman. I'd known his music all my life and had never even heard of him. I had trouble admitting defeat.

  “That's impossible.”

  “Oh,” he laughed, “now Wikipedia isn't accurate? What you gonna do about that?”

  “It's just wrong,” I laughed, “How can it be the same guy?” “Ask him. I dunno.” I handed him his Blackberry back and laughed, just as the waitress returned.

  “It looks like someone's a little thirsty,” she said to me. “Yeah, I love this stuff.”

  “So I see.” She filled up my drink. “Anything else I can get for ya?” We looked at each other.

  “Nope,” Dad said. “I think we're good.”

  “Alright, I'll keep an eye on your drinks,” and she walked away.

  “She has the most southern accent I think I have ever did hear.” I laughed at his terrible impersonation. Voice was something he tried hard at, and for the most part he was pretty good.

  While I'd intended to fake my enjoyment on this trip, I realized I was actually starting to enjoy it, such as the things we were talking about. I didn't expect us to really talk about a whole lot on this trip, but we'd managed to make it almost an hour without total silence, an amazing feat considering how little we'd spoken to each other.

  “That looks good,” he said, looking at my plate. “Back off. This is mine.”

  “I'm just saying. I wasn't asking for it. Believe me, if I wanted it I'd already have it.”

  “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that.” He dove into his pancakes.

  “Mmm. These things are always good. I gotta get the recipe.”

  “You say that about everything they cook here.”

  “Of course. Then I could steal them all and open my own restaurant and ruin them forever.” I gave him my sarcastic look and rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, you do that.” There are some
battles, I was learning, you just don't fight. I was getting better at learning which battles were and were not worth it.

  “How hard could it be?” He went for a piece of his pancakes, which fell off his fork and onto his plate. It was his third attempt. “Stupid syrup.”

  “If it's stupid, why do you use it?”

  “Hey, there are a lot of stupid things you can easily like and use. Credit cards are a good example.”

  “What's so stupid about those?”

  “Take it from me and my experience, they are bad for you. When you have them they can lead to misuse, which can lead to misunderstanding which can lead to mistakes. Next thing you know,” he ran his finger across his throat and stuck out his tongue. I chuckled at the gesture.

  “Credit cards seem like they're okay,” I said, “especially since they help build credit.”

  “Do you think that's where they get their name from?”

  “Hmm. Weren't they invented in a place called 'Creditious'? Though that doesn't sound nearly as cool, does it?” He pursed his lips.

  “It's possible. That's probably the case in my opinion. But credit isn't necessary in life.”

  “Didn't you need credit for the house?”

  “We did and we didn't. You gotta remember, that house is almost fifty years old.”

  “Half of it anyway.”

  “Well, yeah, minus the new part. So it wasn't that expensive when we first got it anyway. But being newlyweds, it was that or the two of us living with my parents.” Even I shuddered at the thoughts. I love my grandparent's to death, but I could imagine what it would be like living with them by myself, let alone with a new bride in tow.

  “Could've been worse.” He looked up at me. “Feel free to tell me how.”

  “They could come and live with us.” He had a blank look on his face, then a smile formed.

  “Touché.”

  ------

  We talked the rest of the way down, without any interruptions. I could never recall everything we talked about, no matter how much I wanted. We talked about everything from girls to love to broken hearts to Tom Petty and 80s music and back around to girls again. We had this strange way of talking about one thing that led to something else which led to something else. Next thing you know, we're getting off at our exit and heading to Andalusia. We passed the Hyundai Plant not far from Montgomery.