Take Nothing For The Journey

This post has nothing to do with New Orleans, by the way, but it certainly involves travel.

In an earlier post, I claimed I could run from my house to Kelly and Dallas's house without breaking a sweat. When I got home from 'Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince' at 4 o'clock, I thought I'd take a nap and get up at 6, in plenty of time to get a ride to Young Life. I woke up at 7:54, stared at my alarm clock in incomprehension, cursed the world and everything in it, then got up to call a neighbor to see if I could get a ride from them. I misdialed and got some lady named Anita. Our conversation went as follows:

Sarah: Hey, it's Sarah Johnson. I was wondering if I could get a ride to Young Life.
(indiscriminate background noise)
Anita: Um, okay, sure.
(more indiscriminate background noise, this time with an overlay of awkward silence)
Sarah: So, are you leaving soon?
Anita: ...
Sarah: May I ask who I'm speaking to?
Anita: This is Anita.
Sarah: Oh, I'm sorry, I have the wrong number.
Anita: Okay.
Sarah: Um, bye. (thinking: you creepy freak)

I called my neighbors, and they had apparently already left. Cursing the world, everything in it, and Anita, I put on my shoes and polished off the last of my water. I thought briefly about calling Kelly, but I was afraid that she would think my parents neglected me or that I was homeless because I always wait outside and so she's never actually seen me come out of my house. Plus, I had made a bold statement. I had to back it up. It was time to run. I left my Bible and study book at home, figuring that they'd slow me down.

The running only lasted to about the bottom of the driveway before I gave up on it. I didn't want to stay on the road too long, because I thought I knew a great shortcut to get to their house. I walked down a little lane full of McMansions and cut across one of the gigantic lawns. Some Jack Russel Terriers barked at me, almost drowning out what sounded like the moo of a cow in the distance.

"No way," I thought. "No one keeps cows around here. Horses, maybe. No cows."

Yes, cows. If it sounds like a cow, it's a cow. I got to the top of a rise only to see that most of the valley before me was fenced off and filled with horses and cows. I tried going around the cow corral only to find out that all the corrals shared some fences, so unless I was willing to cut across them and put myself at the cows' mercy, I was going to have to go around through a forest. I chose the forest, heading in a vaguely southwesterly direction.

So there I was, hugging the fenceline, following what I can only assume was a deer trail, being watched intently by three brown cows, wondering what I had gotten myself into. The trees and brush were pretty thick, and a couple of times I had to stamp on prickler vines to get them out of the way. About then was when I started praying. I got neared the cow barn and decided that if I didn't want to be caught trespassing, I should steer clear of the barn. The trees thinned out and I headed uphill to what looked like a meadow full of Queen Anne's Lace. Wonders of wonders, it was a meadow full of Queen Anne's Lace. There were a few houses around, one with a slatted wooden fence, which looked far more inviting than the barbed-wire fence seperating the meadow from the next field over. I decided to duck through the wooden fence, soujourn briefly in the person's yard, and head over to the next field. It was then that I glanced southeast through a gap in the trees.

I saw the soccer complex. For those of you who know anything about the layout of my town, the soccer complex is the LAST thing you want to see while you're trying to get to Kelly and Dallas's house. The soccer complex is in the complete opposite direction. I readjusted my course and started heading northwest-ish across the grass field. I made it to the next treeline and, wonder of wonders, I beheld Kelly and Dallas's housing development. I was almost there! All I had to do was find a gap in the barbed-wire fence, navigate a hill, and cross a field of potatoes!

My first (and only) lucky break was that there was a place where the fence had been completely beat down by trespassers who had gone before me. I got across the rusty barbed wire without so much as a scrape. I walked along the edge of the potato field and cut across one of Kelly's neighbors' lawns to get to the little road that winds around the development. By this point, all bets were off. I was flicking beads of sweat off my face, and I could tell by the amount of light still left in the sky that I was minutes, if not hours, late. But, being so close, there was no way I was turning back now.

I got to their house, walked in (you're supposed to, I wasn't adding 'breaking and entering' to my list of misdemeanors by wandering into their home), and took off my shoes. Everybody else had already gone downstairs, so I got a paper towel and wiped off my face. Then I went down to the basement, apologized for being 10 minutes late, and gladly poured myself a big glass of water. Home sweet home.



'He told them: "Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic." ' Luke 9:3