A Real Goode Time
Page 30
“And what I want to do is live life and make art.”
She nodded. “Well, I’ll be sad to see you go, Poppy. You’re a wonderfully bright young lady with monumental talent.” Her smile was warm. “You’ll do well in the world, I know. Just…make sure when you fall for the boy, he doesn’t replace your art.”
I sighed. “Good advice, and I know if there’s a pitfall out there for me, it’s that. I tend to fall hard and fast and get blinded.”
She laughed, a tinkling, bell-like sound. “Oh Poppy, you’re barely eighteen, how can you know that about yourself?”
“I’m an old soul, Mrs. D.”
“Indeed you are.”
I laughed. “Well, I’m glad you understand, because I already withdrew from classes.”
She reached into a drawer and withdrew an aged leather camera case. “This is an antique Minolta camera. I bought it here in New York from a thrift store the year before I left home. I had it with me in Spain, France, Italy, Switzerland and all over Europe the years I was there. Go buy as much black-and-white and color film as you can afford, and take a million, million pictures. Take photos of everything. Send the rolls to me in bulk, and I’ll have them developed for you by my friend who has one of the few remaining professional darkrooms in the city, and I’ll mail them all back to your next destination.”
I held the case gingerly. “Oh, Mrs. D., I…I can’t take this. You’ve had this camera half your life. You’ve told stories in class about it.”
She patted my hand. “I could never have children, and we never felt like adoption was right for us. And I’ve always had a special place in my heart for you, since the first day you showed up, more sixteen than seventeen, wide-eyed, talented, and so innocent. I want you to have it.” She touched the case. “Besides, the old girl hasn’t been on an adventure in a decade. She needs to see new things. Who better than with you?”
“Are you sure, Mrs. D.?”
“Absolutely. Just send me the film so I can share all the beautiful things you see—you have such a lovely and unique vision, you know.” She patted my hand again. “And now that you’re not a student anymore, call me Sofia.”
I felt a little emotional, now, and stood up to hug her. “Thank you, Sofia. You’ve been a wonderful mentor.”
She shook her head. “No, Poppy, dear. I’ve been your professor, thus far. The mentorship begins now. Go, Poppy. Fall in love. Make art. Make love, and find art. It’s all over the world, in everything—you just have to see it, find it, capture it.”
“I will.”
“Send me your film, with an address where I can send it back.”
I hesitated. And then wrote down Mom’s address—I had to check it on my phone. “Just send it all here, to my mom’s place. It’s where I’ll end up.”
“It’s good to have an eventual destination, or you just might get lost wandering and never find anywhere to just be.”
Wise words, it felt like.
I said goodbye to her, and then to all my friends from Columbia, and my favorite barista at the coffee shop not far from my dorm, and the bagel guy on the corner where I got my bagels and halal street meat. And then I did the craziest thing: I set out into the world on my own, with a few thousand dollars cash in my purse, a backpack full of clothes, an antique camera and a few hundred rolls of film, and my cell phone. I had no plan whatsoever, other than end up in Alaska, someday, somehow.
Hopefully there was a cute boy on the road ahead of me somewhere—I’d had my heart broken recently, and I was antsy to meet some cute guys and do some heartbreaking of my own. Love ’em and leave ’em, that was the way. No more of this thinking the first guy to smile nice at me shit rainbows and burped unicorns. I didn’t want someone who said he loved me just because he said so while inside me.
Oh no, no more of that. I’d learned my lesson. My heart was closed for business.
I took a bus out of Manhattan.
Another bus into Pennsylvania. And then, just because it was a nice day and I had good boots and strong legs, I started walking. I would see where the road took me, and maybe catch a ride from someone interesting.
I thought of a quote from Tolkien, as I walked down a lonely highway in the middle of Pennsylvania: “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”
Where would my road take me?
Who in the wide world was waiting to meet me?
I was eager to find out.
Coming Soon
Goode Vibrations
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THE VERY LAST BOOK IN THE BADD AND THE GOODE SERIES
Also by Jasinda Wilder
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Big Girls Do It:
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Rock Stars Do It:
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Forever
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Wild Ride
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Goode Girls:
For a Goode Time Call…
Not So Goode
Goode To Bad
A Real Goode Time (June 26, 2020)
Goode Vibrations (August 14, 2020)
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Dad Bod Contracting:
Hammered
Drilled
Nailed
Screwed
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Fifty States of Love:
Pregnant in Pennsylvania
Cowboy in Colorado
Married in Michigan
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Yours
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You Can Do It
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You Can Do It: Fasting
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The Missionary
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Ark
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