by Shawn Inmon
I look a sight, so I don’t even know if anyone will stop and pick me up. But I’ve got to try. It’s a long walk back to San Francisco.
Surprisingly, as soon as she stood on the shoulder of the highway, a car appeared down the road, heading toward her.
As it drew near to her, Cassandra’s heart leapt. She saw that it was another 1965 Mustang fastback. It was even the same color.
As the Mustang drew close, Cassandra tentatively put her thumb out.
The car slowed and pulled up beside Cassandra. The driver rolled the window down. “Are you looking for a ride?”
“Y-yes, but can I ask you a question? How long have you had this car?”
“Oh, not long at all. I just got it.”
“It looks exactly like a car I used to own.”
“Does it now?” the woman asked blithely.
Cassandra leaned down a bit, so she could see inside the passenger window.
She saw a young, attractive woman with sleek, long black hair, a porcelain complexion and startling violet eyes.
I don’t recognize her, but she’s got to be a movie star. How could she not be, looking like that?
“Where are you going?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. San Francisco, maybe. Or Berkeley. How far are you going?”
“I’m driving to Oregon. Middle Falls, to be precise.”
That made Cassandra take a step back. She narrowed her eyes, then looked up and down the road to see if someone might be playing a joke on her. There was nothing but rolling hills and highway as far as her eyes could see.
“Is this a joke?”
“Definitely not. Why?”
“Because I grew up in Middle Falls. It’s a tiny town. Most people have never heard of it.”
“I have business there.”
Cassandra nodded. She didn’t want to be so rude as to ask what business a woman like this could have in Middle Falls.
“So, would you like a ride?”
This whole scene is too weird. But I get a good vibe from this woman.
“Yes, thank you. That would be wonderful.”
Cassandra opened the Mustang’s passenger door and slid inside.
It’s so odd to be sitting in the passenger seat like this. Like an out-of-body experience.
The driver smiled at Cassandra then offered her hand. “I’m Semolina.”
“Cassandra.”
The driver shifted smoothly into gear and turned back onto the highway.
It was still the only car Cassandra had seen since she had parked the Ford.
They drove in silence for a few miles. The only sound was the hum of the Mustang’s tires over the highway.
I didn’t get any sleep last night. I’m probably going to doze off if I'm not careful.
“We can talk, you know,” Semolina said.
That startled Cassandra. Can you read my mind?
Semolina looked at her and smiled. “I’m on vacation. I like it around here. It’s pretty.”
“What are you doing on your vacation?”
“I came here for you. I suppose I should have told you when I first pulled up, but I could see you were on guard and I didn’t want to disturb you. I’m only here to help you.”
Oh, great. A weirdo. That’s my luck. Clear in the middle of nowhere and I still manage to find a complete weirdo to get a ride with. I wonder how much I’ll damage myself if I jump out of the car at 50 miles per hour.
“A lot,” Semolina said. “But you don’t have to jump. I’ll stop and let you out any time.”
“That’s comforting, I guess. You don’t look like a weirdo.” Then it occurred to her that she had only thought about jumping. She turned and stared at Semolina. “You really can read my mind.”
“Yes. In my line of work, that’s not much of an accomplishment.”
“What is your line of work, exactly?”
“I’m a Watcher. I am assigned people whose lives I watch over. Yours, for one.”
Cassandra laughed. “Pardon me, but you’re not doing much of a job of watching over mine.”
Semolina was not offended. “Oh, you get to make all your own decisions to determine how your life will turn out. My job is just to watch over you and Feed the Machine.”
Cassandra let that last part whistle past her.
“But sometimes I get involved in the lives of the people I watch over and I try to help them.”
“Again, if this is my life with an angel’s help, I hate to see what it would be like without it.”
Semolina shrugged, an endearingly human gesture.
“Is this it, then? Is getting a ride my assistance for this lifetime? I could have probably managed that on my own.”
“And the person who was going to pick you up would have killed you.”
The truth of those words hit Cassandra in the gut.
“It’s not always bad getting killed, but sometimes it is. I could see it would be bad for you. You haven’t finished this life fully yet, so you would have been recycled. You would have woken up next to your friend Kristen in bed after your graduation party.”
Cassandra’s mouth fell open. The mind-reading bit could be faked somehow, but no one—no one—could have known about that. She had never told a soul. She didn’t know which piece of information was harder to digest—that she had been moments away from being killed, or that this person knew her most closely-held secret.
“Who are you?”
“I told you. I am a Watcher. A minute ago, you called me an angel. Humans often do, so I understand the temptation. I was once a human, too, and I believed in angels. It was comforting. So, if you want to think of me like that, that’s fine.”
“Hang on, I need to get this straight. Somehow you knew I was going to be killed—”
“—I saw it in my pyxis,” Semolina interjected.
“—and so you left heaven, or whatever, to come down here and rescue me.”
“You’re adding conclusions that will likely set you back on your path, now.”
“And now you’re here, in what looks like an exact replica of my own Mustang.”
“My choice of cars was probably a bit of hubris. I so loved watching you drive it that I wanted to experience it myself. I am a new Watcher and I still make mistakes. I am but an egg.”
“You might be the egg, but you are surely scrambling my brain.”
Cassandra looked out the window for a minute and watched the hillsides roll past.
“So what now, then? You’re just here to chauffer me wherever I want to go?”
“Within reason. More than anything, I wanted to move you out of harm’s way. I’ve done that now.”
“Won’t whoever was going to kill me just kill someone else now?”
“That possibility exists, yes. I spoke to the Watcher who oversees him. It’s out of my hands now. Part of being a Watcher is learning that we don’t control everything.”
“Why did you tell me you were going to Middle Falls?”
“I wanted to catch your attention as gently as possible.”
“You certainly did that.” Cassandra tapped the fingers of her right hand against her leg. “If I asked you to, would you take me to Middle Falls?”
“Yes.”
Cassandra nodded, as if she was having a conversation with herself.
“That’s what I want.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The drive to Middle Falls passed easily. Cassandra realized that Semolina was the one being she had ever met who truly knew her, in all incarnations, in all her attitudes.
Loving someone is one thing. Truly knowing everything about someone and still loving them is something else.
Semolina had seen what was ahead on Cassandra’s path and went to great effort to change her fate. That felt like love to Cassandra.
If there was any doubt that Semolina was not of this world, it soon passed. Even though they drove more than 600 miles to Middle Falls, they never pulled over to gas up. Cassandra knew what the
cruising distance was in a ’65 Mustang, and it was nothing close to that.
When they got hungry, Semolina reached into the backseat and first pulled out a delicious lunch, then later an even-more delicious dinner for them, all freshly prepared.
It’s like riding with Mary Poppins and her magical bag.
When Cassandra had asked Semolina to give her a ride to Middle Falls, it had been on a whim. She was so scared and lonely, the idea of home was overpowering.
As they approached the town itself, her anxiety grew.
As always, I’ve leaped before I looked. Now that we’re almost there, I realize that I have absolutely no plan once we hit town. What am I going to do, drop in on Jimmy and see if he’ll take me back? No. Go back to Collins Estate and see if they’ll let me in? I haven’t so much as talked to them in what, a year and a half?
“Robert Frost said, ‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”
I forget that you can read my mind. It would be nice if that were true.
“Only one way to find out.”
Semolina took the Middle Falls exit off Interstate 5 and drove to the Collins Estate as if she had been there a thousand times. She pulled down the long driveway and stopped in the wide circular drive.
“Home again, home again, jiggety-jig,” Semolina said.
Cassandra stepped out of the Mustang. Before she shut the door, she leaned down and looked once more at Semolina.
“There are no words.”
“Because none are needed.”
Cassandra turned and looked at what had once been her home, which felt so foreign to her now, so strange.
She turned around to say goodbye.
Semolina and the car were gone, as though they had never existed.
Cassandra felt very small, standing in the immense driveway.
She walked to the front door and faced an immediate quandary. Should she just open the door and go in?
No. This isn’t my home any more.
Instead, she pushed the doorbell. The low chimes resonated throughout the house. She stood there for thirty seconds, waiting, wondering.
The immense door opened halfway. It was Juanita. She did a double-take.
“Miss Cassandra? Is that really you?”
“It’s me, Juanita. It’s so good to see you.”
Juanita opened the door wide, then took in the entirety of Cassandra’s appearance. Her disheveled, unwashed hair. Her ill-fitting tie-died t-shirt and jeans. Her dirty feet in cheap sandals.
“Oh my, miss. You had better come in straight-away.”
“Will it be okay with Mom and Dad?”
“Will it— Now, stop talking nonsense. You’re home. Come in, come in.”
Cassandra slipped her sandals off, but realized that her feet were so dirty, she would likely leave tracks across the light-colored carpet.
“I don’t want to make a mess.”
“You wait right here. I’ll be back in a flash.”
Juanita hurried up the stairs and was gone for only a few seconds. When she returned, she was holding a pair of ankle socks. They were pure white, with pink trim, and had a perfect small ball attached to the back of each. They were Cassandra’s own socks.
That was too much for Cassandra. She didn’t break down, but tears leaked out of her eyes.
“I’ll put these on, then go upstairs and take a bath, if that’s all right?”
“That’s the best thing for it, miss.”
“Which bathroom shall I use?”
Juanita looked at her as though she had lost her mind. “Why, your bathroom, of course.” She saw the uncomprehending look on Cassandra’s face and said, “Your bedroom hasn’t changed. It’s just like it was the day you left.”
Cassandra nodded, but couldn’t speak. She walked up the stairs, being careful not to touch the railing. After living in the ashram for so many months, where hot water and showers were a rare commodity, she felt dirty all over.
When she pushed open the door to her room, it felt as though she had time traveled again. It really was just like the day she had left for Berkeley, almost two years before. Her bed was still covered with the pink comforter and a dozen soft pillows resting on top. Her small desk with a makeup mirror was by the window. The walls were covered by the lyrics she had painstakingly written in calligraphy.
She stood in the middle of the room, turning this way and that, taking it all in.
Behind her, she heard a cough. It was Juanita, holding a basket of sweet-smelling soaps, shampoo, conditioner, and lotion.
“I thought you might need some of these things. The maids haven’t been keeping the bathroom stocked since you left.”
Cassandra accepted the basket gratefully. “I want to hug you, Juanita, but...” she looked wordlessly down at herself.
“You take a nice hot bath, then I’ll take that hug. While you’re doing that, I’ll make you something to eat.”
Cassandra stepped into her bathroom and turned the tap in the tub on hot. She looked in the basket and saw there was bubble bath. She poured two capfuls under the running water and breathed in the smell of lavender.
She started to pull her clothes off, then wandered back out into her room and opened her closet door. She had taken all her favorite clothes with her when she left, but there were still a dozen outfits, sweaters, jeans, and tops hanging up. She opened the top two drawers of her dresser and found underwear and bras.
She carried everything into the bathroom and stripped off her ashram clothes.
A few hours ago, those clothes were my only belongings. Now, I think I’d like to burn them.
Cassandra dipped a toe into the water, then adjusted the tap to pour some cold in.
She stepped in, sat down, and leaned back until steamy-hot water and bubbles were up to her nose.
Chapter Fifty-Two
When the water went cold, Cassandra half-emptied the tub, added more bubbles, and filled it up with hot water again.
When she finally stood up and reached for a towel, she was pruned, clean, and happier than she had been since she had left their little apartment in Haight-Ashbury.
There were still plenty of uncertainties and future worries ahead for her, but she was clean, warm, and she could smell something delicious coming from downstairs.
Cassandra got dressed, pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and went downstairs.
Juanita was alone in the kitchen. She flipped a sandwich over on the grill.
“Come on, miss. Sit here at the table. I heated up some tomato soup, and I made you a grilled cheese sandwich. You always did love those.”
“And I haven’t had one since I left. Thank you, Juanita.” She stepped behind Juanita, laid her cheek against her back, and hugged her.
“Mom and Dad aren’t here?”
“No, they’ve got tickets to some event at your father’s club. They said they wouldn’t be late. I was just getting ready to lock up the house and leave when you got here. Lucky I was still here, or there would have been no way for you to get in.”
“Then I’m keeping you from your family. Please go on. I don’t want to keep you here anymore. I’ll clean up when I’m done.”
Juanita looked at her, considering whether Cassandra would actually clean up after herself, or if the dishes would still be waiting for her in the morning. She saw something in her, and said, “All right. I’ll see you in the morning then.” She picked up her purse from the counter and took a step toward the back door. She stopped and turned to Cassandra. “I’m glad you’re home. It’s not the same without you here.”
“Thank you, Juanita, and thanks for the best grilled cheese ever.”
Juanita waved the compliment off and headed out the back door.
The grandfather clock in the living room bonged eight times.
If they went to the country club, no telling how late they’ll be. I’ll see if I can wait up for them.
She finished her soup and sandwich, washed the dishes
, and wandered through the house, trying to reacclimatize her.
Starting the day in a dirty ashram, completely broke and scared, then finishing it in surroundings like this? Priceless.
She retreated upstairs and sat on her bed.
“I’ll wait for them here. I’ll hear them come in.”
Thirty seconds later, she was deeply asleep.
CASSANDRA HAD BECOME somewhat used to people being awake and watching her while she slept. It had happened often with her roommates in Berkeley and again at the ashram. None of the people staring at her had ever been her mother.
Until today.
Cassandra opened her eyes a slit groggily and saw her mother sitting at the end of her bed, watching her. Cassandra sat up quickly.
“Mom!”
Dorothea reached out and laid a hand on Cassandra’s leg.
“Is it okay that I fell asleep here?”
“The fact that you would ask me that makes me sad beyond words. This is your home. It doesn’t matter how many disagreements we have, we will always be your parents and you will always have a place in our home.”
Cassandra scooted toward her mother and laid her head against her shoulder, putting her arms around her. Dorothea hugged her back for a long time.
Finally, Dorothea said, “You don’t smell bad at all.”
Cassandra laughed a little. “Juanita told you, huh?”
“Yes, Juanita told me.”
“Is Dad here?”
“No, neither of us knew you were here this morning until Juanita told us. We didn’t see your car in the driveway.”
Cassandra looked away. “I don’t have it any more.”
“Ah. I see. Your father was already gone to work by the time Juanita told me you were here. I’ve put a call in to him, but haven’t heard back. He had a meeting with some men on the golf course.”
“Will he be glad I’m home?”
“Of course he will. Stop being silly. When parents and children argue, or disagree, it shouldn’t be forever. When we didn’t hear from you for so long, we were afraid we’d lost you forever.”
“I didn’t know.”