Anywhere But Here, Chapters 46–48

This novel is an experiment in fiction + serial posting on Medium. I wrote the first draft during NaNoWriMo 2012.

It’s still a draft. Kindly leave me highlights and notes on what you like, and tell me when things don’t make sense, like the French below …

Chapters 1–3 | Chapters 4–6 | Chapters 7–9 | Chapters 10–12 | Chapters 13–15| Chapters 16–18 | Chapters 19–21 | Chapters 22–24 | Chapters 25–27 | Chapters 28–30 | Chapters 31–33 | Chapters 34–36 | Chapters 37–39 | Chapters 40–42 | Chapters 43–45 | Chapters 46–48 | Chapters 49–50 | Chapters 51–53 | Chapters 54–57 | Chapters 58–60 | Chapters 61–63

Chapter 46: Emily

Pale light meandered through the downstairs French doors, as Emily woke to muted voices upstairs. Livie had offered to share her room and double bed, but Emily asked shyly if she could sleep down here. Now she was grateful, the big windows in the doors let in so much light, unlike her dungeon room at Parker’s.

Plus Livie’s room was overwhelming. It was beautiful, ornate, decorated in burnt orange, gold, and chestnut colors, draped fabric scalloping the edge where the ceiling and walls met. A thick, full sized mattress rested on a pine platform maybe half a foot off the floor. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to see the mural first thing in the morning, looming over her. A family of three Hindu deities, Livie had explained. Shiva, the father, Parvati, the mother, and Ganesha, that elephant head god she told Emily about. The trio looked blissful and content. They sat on a large purple flower with a lot of petals. Livie explained why the boy had an elephant head, but Emily was too tired to hear. Maybe she’d ask again today. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more; the elephant head boy or the fact that the family of three, unlike her own, looked so freaking happy.

It also made her miss her room, with the ceiling mural of clouds and pegasus haloed by sunrise. She couldn’t even paint the ceiling in her room at Parker’s, even if she had any clue where her paints were.

Emily walked upstairs, past Livie’s room where she saw her friend sitting in that funky opposite cross legged position, humming softly. Meditating again? Should she go back downstairs and wait? Seemed rude to interrupt but Livie opened her eyes slowly.

“Want to give meditation another chance?” Livie glanced at the clock. “How about five minutes?”

Emily thought of the two times she’d tried — once on her own, a miserable failure, and the second time yesterday on the bus where she’d felt a quiet, calm emptiness however brief. Calm was cool.

“What were you humming?”

“Humming? Oh! I was chanting the sound ‘Om.’”

“What’s that?”

“A Sanskrit word representing the entire universe and everything in it. Chanting ‘Om’ during meditation is supposed to bring bliss and enlightenment, someday.”

“What’s enlightenment like?”

“I’ll tell you if I ever get there!” Livie laughed. “Five minutes, do you need a word to keep your mind busy?”

“Um, sure. Or I could try ‘om’ like you did,” Emily said, “But I don’t have to sit like that, right,” she pointed at Livie’s opposite crossed legs, “it’s not required for bliss or enlightenment?”

“No, sit however you want. Remember the breathing part, slow and full. I’ll watch the clock, close your eyes.”

Emily sat down on the bed, her ankles crossed under her calves. Time slipped by as she closed her eyes, putting her hands on her belly, feeling the full, circular movement as her breath entered then exited her body. She gave up on chanting ‘om’ after a couple breaths because the rhythm of her breathing didn’t match up, and settled on the words ‘in’ and ‘out’ which were simple and weren’t in a foreign language.

“Time.”

Emily opened her eyes slowly. “That couldn’t have been five minutes.”

“Actually it was seven; you looked peaceful so I stretched it out a couple more.”

Emily felt calm again, the edge of the anger and irritation had melted away.

“I thought I heard chanting,” Livie’s mom peeked in through the open door. “Did you know about ‘om’ before you met our resident yogini?”

“Resident what?”

“Mom! You’re confusing Emily. Yogini just means a female who practices yoga and meditation.”

“Well this won’t confuse her,” Barbara laughed, turning to look at Emily. “How about breakfast?”

Chapter 47: Sandra

French gibberish, Sandra thought, as David said to her, “Tous les nuages ​​dans la salle sont pleins.” He looked forlorn and gestured at her table, then swept his hand around the café gesturing that it was full of patrons, and then shrugged.

“Les rayons du soleil ne cachent pas la pluie,” Sandra responded, without thinking, pointing at the chair and nodding her head for him to sit down. She pantomimed picking up a newspaper, shaking it dramatically, and blocking the view of David.

David sat, sipping his real cappuccino, looking into the distance. “Les buffets du vent, créant des turbulences,” he looked down at his coffee, sadly, then pointed outside to the rain.

Sandra put down her imaginary newspaper, and looked at David with new curiosity, asking, “ Lancer mon âme comme une feuille.” The edges of his mouth pulled down by grief. He offered no explanation beyond the rain. What could he be sad about? Was it something the rain brought to mind?

“Les nuages ​​ont-ils une substance?” David responded. He must be sad about losing his wife, and thought there was nothing left for him in the world. His hands twisted idly in his lap, as if wringing a handkerchief full of tears.

“Est-ce qu’ils peuvent me protéger?” But there is so much left in life, Sandra intoned, so much to be happy about. She gestured expansively, raising her arms to circle the earth.

“Je touche les nuages ​​dans mes rêves,” David said, pointing to the rain, and resting his hand on his heart. He looked down at his coffee, his eyelids heavy.

Sandra stood suddenly, “Si vous touchez les nuages ​​dans vos rêves, la turbulence passera!” There is the sky, the world, the earth! Sandra placed both hands over her heart, looking humbled: There is always love.

“Et croyez que la turbulence passera?” David questioned.

“Oui,” Sandra responded.

Then he smiled, full and wide, eyes twinkling, “And, scene complete.”

“What did you think I said?” Sandra asked, curious.

“Not a clue, but it made me happy to be alive.”

Chapter 48: Emily

Over thick pancakes filled with bananas and blueberries, a mischievous look crossed Livie’s face. “I have an idea what we can do today.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve hills and bicycles, especially twisty ones.”

“Twisty bicycles?”

“You know what I mean,” Emily grinned.

“What if I promise no big hills, twisty or otherwise.”

“Is there another option?”

“No, not really, but I want you to feel like you have a choice.”

“Even though I don’t?”

“Well, no.” Livie laughed.

“So what’s your grand scheme, Livie?” Barbara, Livie’s mom interjected.

“Golden Gate Park?” Livie offered, sheepishly.

Barbara turned to Emily, “I can negotiate the terms of this ride on your behalf? My daughter is known for her outrageous adventures that she thinks are tame.” Emily nodded quickly, grateful.

“This one is pretty tame, Mom!”

“Much better than yesterday, however...”

“She’s done this before?” Emily asked.

“Yes, she can’t stop herself. Maybe it’s all the chanting?”

“Mom!” Livie complained.

“But the park is beautiful, and there’s a decent chance of sun today. Honestly, seeing it by bike is the best way.”

Livie’s mom handed them a backpack with lunch, and waved them off as they mounted the bikes. Again.

Emily followed Livie through traffic for two blocks, then ducked into a path obscured by tall trees on a street corner. As the cars disappeared, a secret lush forest appeared, with vivid green plants and trees leaned over them. The path was paved asphalt and dirt, winding ahead until it opened to a wide road and a painted white wood and glass domed building. Flowers grew in manicured patterns around the wooden white hands of a grass faced clock, which ticked away the time.

Emily’s bottom ached where it had spent too much time on a bike lately.

After a few more minutes of riding, a modern, angular, rust colored building, accosted their view, and just behind the building, an amphitheater inspired by ancient Greece peeked through. Where else but in San Francisco, Emily thought, amused.

They continued riding in a designated bike lane, Emily was happy to see there were no cars. A magnificent display of roses burst then disappeared as they passed. Intermittently Emily could see glimpses of a busy street and attached houses through the grass and trees on her right. Somehow they’d escaped the incessant busy-ness of the city.

The road sloped down under a car bypass, and a small pond appeared on the right, with a cluster of pigeons, seagulls, and some unusual birds that Emily guessed were in the duck family. She thought of the ducks she’d seen flying in a V over the Sacramento-Davis Causeway and wondered if they ever popped by, it looked like a good place for a duck to hang out.

The park seemed to be endless, full of fascinating surprises at every turn and crest. Ahead Livie had stopped in front of a wide meadow surrounded by a plain chain-link fence. Emily rode up beside her, hopping off the bike. “What are you looking…,” Emily started.

“Sssshhhhh!” Livie whispered, and pointed to the meadow.

Emily looked, then squinted, Could it be? Massive brown humped animals grazed. “Buffalo?” she whispered to Livie, who nodded, smiling.

“American Bison. This is my favorite part of the park,” Livie whispered back. “A wealthy family donated their herd to the park to avoid them being slaughtered during the Depression. They must have been vegetarians!” She giggled.

As she watched, one bison lowered his massive furry head to the grass, small curved horns peaking through. She counted six scattered in the wide grassy meadow. They watched for a few more minutes, awestruck. Emily wondered if her Mom knew about the bison.

Mounting the bikes again, they continued on the path as the trees grew more densely. Something that looked like pine, but thicker, Emily thought, and with a wide canopy above. A round tower peeked through, and Emily saw the angular blades of a windmill, imported from the land of tulips and wooden shoes.

Then, directly in front of her, Emily saw an unmistakable rectangle of blue gray below the more vibrant blue of the sky and she hoped, prayed that Livie wouldn’t stop, that this wonderful almost fairy tale ride wouldn’t end in the worst place on earth.

But Livie didn’t hear Emily’s silent pleas, because she rode through every stop light, which were unfortunately all green, right into the same beach parking lot where Emily’s Mom had parked their car last week.

The wind blew in gusts around them, but unlike Emily’s previous visit, the beach was filled with people in bathing suits and shorts, lying on colorful towels and chairs on the sand leading up to the white tipped waves. Livie stopped at the cement concrete wall separating asphalt from wet terror.

“I forgot the bike locks,” Livie cringed, “And Mom will be beyond livid if the bikes get stolen. I guess we’ll have to eat up here because sand and bike gears are not a good combo. So much for my surprise finale!”

Emily shrugged, thinking maybe someone had heard her plea after all and kept her objections silent. After an hour of eating on the low wall, watching the beach from a distance, exactly how Emily liked it, they got back on the bikes and followed the same path back to Livie’s house. Livie didn’t hesitate when Emily asked to stop at the bison.

More to come … thanks for reading!