Eternal Youth (11 page)

Gran shuffled across the kitchen in her house slippers and took a seat at the table. Her steaming cup of coffee smelled divine.

“Gran, can I have some coffee?” Callie asked.

“You don’t drink coffee.” Braden stared at her.

“If I don’t get something to boost my energy, I’m going to resort to eating brains,” Callie said, staring back at him.

“Of course, dear, you know where everything is.”

As Callie was pouring a mug, Emma breezed through the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower and pulled up in a loose bun. She was wearing a long, flowing skirt and a white tank top. Her face was glowing; it was the happiest Callie had seen her mother in a long time.

“Beautiful day for a trip,” her mother said brightly. She sidled up beside Callie and poured herself a cup of coffee, adding milk and two sugars. “It will go smoothly and perfectly, and by four this afternoon, we’ll be on the beach.”

“Well, aren’t you all chipper this morning.” Callie watched her mother curiously as the woman carried her mug back to the table and sat down.

When Emma was happy, she lit up a room. She was a natural beauty who was so genuinely nice that she wouldn’t hurt a flea. When she wasn’t obsessed with traveling and the fountain, she always thought of others first. Emma was one of those people that others wished they could hate, but they couldn’t find a justifiable reason to dislike her. Before her father died, Callie used to hope to be like her mom when she grew up.
It’s crazy that one event can change so many lives, so drastically.

“I think a vacation is just what we all need. Just us girls. It’s going to be fantastic. No offense, Braden, you know we love having you around.” Callie’s mother turned a big smile on her nephew. She sat down at the table and pulled a plate closer.

Braden grinned. “None taken.” Callie could tell he was just happy to see his aunt in such a good mood.

Callie shoveled down the rest of the food on her plate. She wanted to be full so she wouldn’t be tempted by the nasty airline food. In the chitchat that ensued as they all finished eating, Callie zoned out. She couldn’t stop picturing Jonathan kissing his girlfriend. She tried to plaster a smile on her face and respond with the appropriate amount of happiness, but she suddenly wanted to crawl back in bed and sulk.

“Cal, if you can load the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, it’d be lovely,” Gran said as she put her plate in the sink. “I need to grab some last minute things.”

“Sure.” Callie hated doing dishes, but when her Gran asked, she never hesitated to do something. An entirely different story when it came to her mom, though.

Braden tucked leftovers, neatly packaged in Tupperware, into the fridge as Callie loaded the dishwasher.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Callie asked him. She rinsed off the last mug and put it on the top rack.

“Yeah. I won’t be alone, I’ll have Dad. And come on, Cal, you act like you’re never coming back.” He chuckled, propping himself against the counter next to her. “You’ll come back all tanned and relaxed, and this time next month we’ll be in, like, Zimbabwe or something.”

“I know. You’re right. I just wish you were coming.”

He came near and pulled Callie into a tight hug, tucking her beneath his chin. “You’re going to be okay, too, you know.”

Wrapping her arms around her cousin’s waist, Callie nodded against his chest. She was too choked up to say anything.

After some last minute adjustments, they were ready. Braden would drive them to the airport and drop them off before he hightailed out of town with his dad for the weekend.

Callie threw her turquoise backpack over her shoulder. She took one last look around the house before she followed her family out.
It was good while it lasted.

She should have been used to it, but leaving always left an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

June 15th, 2011

San Diego

We came home for three days. Mom says it’s probably the last time for a while; she’s got some kind of schedule mapped out for the rest of the year. It sucks, because it’s hard to go so long without seeing Avery. And eating CHEESEBURGERS.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m in a box, by myself, and nobody can hear me screaming for help. I get so lonely. I can’t help but think that other girls have friends to talk to about fights with their moms or heartbreak or what insane outfit Lady Gaga was wearing for her last benefit concert. I have Avery, but only as far as my satellite phone will allow. Which isn’t much in the middle of god-forsaken
nowhere
.

Mom and I aren’t talking. Gran can tell. She always tries to make peace between us whenever we’re in a spout of disagreement, but I think Mom is just as stubborn as me. It was a stupid fight, it’s always a freaking STUPID fight. I know that. But, I don’t know how to stop it.

I’m tired. I miss Dad. I want to crawl in my bed and sleep for weeks.

If I never saw another plane for the rest of my life, it would be too soon.

C
allie knew it was going to be a good flight when she saw it was almost entirely old people.

“What’s up with all the elderly?” she asked her mom as she shoved her backpack under the seat in front of her.

“Mm, I think Gran said there’s some kind of cruise leaving from Miami.” Her mom was sitting in the window seat, and had already opened a
People
magazine. She had her cat-eye glasses perched on her nose.

“So, we have a layover in Miami?” The plane was one of the big jumbo jets that flew smooth as glass. Callie was excited to be on it instead of a rickety three-seater. She’d had more than enough rickety flights in her life.

“Yes, dear,” Gran said, settling in the aisle seat with an
oompf
. “They just don’t make these seats comfortable, do they?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d been on some of the flights we have,” Callie told her. She pulled out her Kindle tablet and switched it on.

“They’re going to tell you to turn that off for take-off,” Emma said without looking up from her magazine.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Mom.” Callie gestured to the long line of people still entering the plane. “We’re gonna be here a while.”

An hour later, they finally started the long taxi down the runway. The soothing drift of the plane, and the sense of weightlessness upon lift-off, reminded Callie of how tired she was. After a few minutes of ascent, Callie was about to nod off when a baby started screaming at the top of its lungs.

Callie’s eyes popped open and she gritted her teeth.
Great. Why does there always have to be a screaming baby on every single plane?

Emma handed Callie a set of headphones, and then patted her daughter’s knee with a sympathetic smile. “You think it’s bad for you, imagine the poor mother. I remember traveling with you as a baby. It’s not a fun experience.”

Callie sighed. “I don’t even see why people would travel with babies.”

“Sometimes it can’t be avoided.”

Callie jammed the buds into her ears and sank lower in the seat. She navigated through the home screen of her tablet and chose an album by her favorite band. The music started, and she closed her eyes.

Next thing she knew, her mother was shaking her awake. “We’re landing. Buckle up.”

Callie sat up in her seat and looked around, dazed. The passengers were going through the pre-landing ritual of fastening their tray tables and shuffling around in their seats. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. If they were already landing, she must have slept for several hours.

She stretched her legs and rubbed her neck. Obviously, her lack of sleep over Jonathan had caught up with her. She fumbled with the buckle on her seatbelt just as the flight attendant leaned down and told her to put her seat upright.

De-planing took forever, as usual. Callie stated her mantra over and over inside her head:
If I never step foot on a plane again, it would be too soon.

“We have a two hour layover. Do you guys want to grab something to eat?” Gran asked as they spilled onto the main concourse.

“Sure. I’m starving.” Callie shifted her bag to the other shoulder.

“Okay, let’s head towards our gate. We’ll find something to eat over there.” Emma led them to the nearby departure board where she scanned to find their connecting flight.

“For heaven’s sake,” Emma muttered, glancing at her wristwatch. “Our flight is all the way on the other friggin’ side of the airport.”

“It’s good exercise, love.” Gran patted her arm and motioned her on. “Lead the way.”

Callie kept an eye on her grandmother to make sure she didn’t get too tired, but Gran had a spring in her step and a twinkle in her eye. She appeared to have more energy than any of them. Callie herself felt like she was walking waist-deep in water; she was lethargic, despite her nap.

“Sit down or fast food?” Emma asked as they began to pass the food places nearest their boarding gate.

“I could go for a Nathan’s hot dog and fries,” Callie said as they passed the stand. The smell of hot dogs made her insane with hunger.

“Callie, I don’t know how you stay so skinny.” Emma shook her head, her bun swishing. “That does sound delicious, though. What do you think, Mom?”

“Count me in. I love Nathan’s. It reminds me of the time I spent with your father in New York. He loved Staten Island.” Gran’s voice softened at the memory of Callie’s long-deceased grandfather. She smiled warmly at her granddaughter. “Good choice, Calista.”

“Mom, you want to get Gran settled with our stuff at the gate, and then go with me to get the food?”

“That sounds like a plan, Cal.”

They found their gate and took up seats in the corner near the boarding door. Callie dropped her backpack in a chair. Her back was killing her, and the backpack wasn’t even that full.

I’ve scaled an active volcano
, Callie thought with a chuckle,
and I can barely handle a walk through Miami International with my backpack. So lame.

As they were waiting in line at Nathan’s, Callie got a strange feeling—like her senses were on high alert. A prickle of awareness began at the base of her neck and drifted down her back. She shivered. Such “feelings” tended to crop up right before something bad was about to happen.

Usually, it was something simple like they would miss their flight, or come face to face with a wild animal. There was one time it happened right before they were mugged in China. It was something she took for granted, but not something she usually talked about. People would think she was nuts.

Callie turned to her mom and grimaced. “I think we should hurry, so we can eat and be ready to board. We don’t want to miss our plane.”

“We have plenty of time, Calista.” Emma clutched her wallet to her chest and glanced over at her daughter with concern. “Everything alright?”

Callie never worried about missing a plane—if she had her way, she wouldn’t be taking them in the first place, so she knew her suggestion came as a surprise to her mother. “Yeah, I just don’t want to be stuck in this airport any longer than we have to. One more flight, and it’s vacation. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there.”

“Calista, you’re throwing out clichés. What’s wrong?”

Callie was saved from responding by their turn coming up in the Nathan’s line, and by the time they ordered, got their food, and made it back to Gran, her mother seemed to have forgotten.

But Callie couldn’t shake the sensation that their vacation wasn’t going to turn out well.

August 1, 2011

Croagh Patrick—Ireland

Today is the Pagan holiday of Lughnasadh. What’s that? I have no idea. Something to do with harvesting grains and eating bread. For Irish Catholics, it’s the day after “Reek Sunday.” What’s that? No idea.

What I DO know is that yesterday, thousands of Catholics converged on the Irish mountain of Croagh Patrick to make a pilgrimage to the summit. They do this barefoot. And often shirtless (in sometimes bad, cold weather!). The Irish government employs helicopters to drag these people from the mountain when they’ve HURT THEMSELVES.

All in the name of religion.

Why are we here, at Croagh Patrick, the day after this giant, mass, CRAZY pilgrimage?

All in the name of Eternal Youth.

Supposedly Saint Patrick fasted on the top of this giant green hill of a mountain that is casting its shadow over me now while Mom goes over the trail map. And at the end of this forty day fast, he did something with a bell and it banished all snakes from Ireland.

Whether this is true or not, I couldn’t tell you. Metaphor or literal? Meh. But I have a feeling we’ll have just as much luck searching for a snake on this mountain as we would searching for the fountain of youth.

I think it’s BEYOND time for this charade to end.