I watched as my best friend, Madison Hora, readied herself for our first solo trip together. Madison and I have known each other since preschool, although we did not become particularly close until eighth grade, due to the fact that we'd been separated since the age of four. At thirteen, I considered her my best friend, and, though we went to different high schools, she was never too far from my mind.
We were born and raised in Seattle, which is, for those of you who don't know, one of the larger cities of Washington State. Madison had a family that consisted of two parents who were inexplicably still together, and two younger brothers. We only lived a few blocks away from one another, which had proved to be helpful since we liked to hang out a lot.
My family was a scattered and mixed one. Three fourths—so technically seventy-five percent—of my grandparents were deceased. The only one still living, my maternal grandfather, was originally from New York, and was very proud of his Italian roots. He lived in California with his second wife, a kind enough sort of woman, I suppose. My parents had divorced when I was five after a two year separation, and I had a younger brother myself, so Madison, who I called "Maddie", and I would constantly complain about how easy they seemed to have it.
Maddie shoved a raincoat into her large suitcase. She pursed her lips, almost as if she was wondering how she was supposed to get it closed. Wordlessly, I crossed the room and sat on it. She shot me a grin and managed to close it without much difficulty. She then enlisted me to assist her in picking up her two suitcases, of which I took one, and her easel, as she picked up her expensive set of paints.
"You really think you'll have time to paint?" I asked as we left her bedroom and walked down the hallway. "We're supposed to be sight-seeing and getting away from it all."
Maddie rolled her eyes as we shouted goodbyes to her parents and walked outside to my car. It was a beat-up Volvo station wagon, which I only got under the condition that I would help with the monthly payments. I took the keys from my pocket and unlocked the trunk so as we could put her suitcases and easel into it. Maddie would put her paints in a buckled seat in the back seat, because they were so precious to her.
"You're bringing your laptop," she shot back as she slammed the trunk shut and circled around my car.
I shrugged. "So? My internet on my phone might run out, and I'll need to check my email…" Maddie nodded sarcastically and buckled her paint set into the back seat. "I know you know that I know you better than that, Sophie Pickford," she said in a mock-scolding tone as she shut the back seats' door. She walked the foot or so to the front passenger door and opened it and climbed in with me. She was about to put her feet up on the dashboard, but I smacked her knees lightly with an open palm.
"Don't scuff it up," I told her, sticking my key into the ignition and starting up the car. I gave the car some gas as we pulled out of the driveway of Maddie's house and cruised down the street. "I'm just glad that we won't run into one of the four rush hours," I said conversationally as we drove out onto the main street and headed east, to the freeway.
"Four rush hours?" my friend asks, obviously confused. "I only know of one around here—the after-work traffic between 5:00 and 7:00."
I shook my head as we stopped at a traffic light on Greenwood Avenue. I could see the now-defunct Greenwood Academy of Hair, the now-defunct antique shop called Antika, the Chase Bank which couldn't seem to make up its mind to be closed or open, and some gelato place that I couldn't remember the name of. "There's school and before-work traffic from 7:00 until 9:00," I said softly, pulling into the intersection as the light turned green.
Maddie blinked. "Well…yeah, I suppose so."
"And then there's after-school traffic where there's no room for anything on the road except for a damned yellow school bus," I said through my teeth as we headed downhill, toward Aurora Avenue.
"That's like…between 2:00 and 4:00, right, Sophie?"
I nodded as we pulled to a stop at the Aurora Avenue traffic light. "Yes," I replied, drumming my hands impatiently on the steering wheel. My car clock read 2:17 p.m., which meant that we had less than an hour to make it to Edmonds for the Kingston ferry. "And then the last one would be, of course, the 5:00 to 7:00 one."
Maddie nodded. "The lights' green," she said softly.
"Thank you." I pulled into the intersection and drove down the street, passing Daniel Bagley Elementary School, a branch of State Farm Insurance, and Sunnyside Avenue. We also passed by Bishop Blanchet High School, just before heading onto a bridge, and a stereotypical green sign with rusty-looking white letters met our eyes that read Banner Way.
We made a left, onto the freeway proper, and passed by three cars that did not have the luxury of using the carpool lane. We passed by a sign for my school, North Seattle Community College—yes, community, it's cheaper—and the Northgate Mall. Maddie looked wistfully at the mall and smiled to herself.
"Seven months," she said.
I blinked, trying to focus on staying within fifty-eight and sixty-three miles per hour. "What?" I asked.
She smiled, slightly impatiently. "It's June now, you know. That means seven more months until we go there to do Christmas shopping."
"Oh, uh, right," I said, nodding. We continued in silence for a few moments, passing by Seattle completely, as well as Shoreline. We saw a neon-looking sign lit up with orange lights, advertising the distance, given any traffic, of Lynnwood and Edmonds, in relation to where we were. Lynnwood said eight minutes; Edmonds, twelve.
"I don't think we've ever been to Lynnwood together," Maddie said softly as we continued north.
I shook my head. "No, you're right there," I said. "Shoreline, either, I don't think," I went on. "Interbay, though…"
Maddie chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I remember."
"Poor Fletcher, thinking that he was stuck in West Seattle," I said, an image of Maddie's youngest brother coming to me. "He's such a love. But, of course, you know that."
"I know that," she said as we neared the Edmonds exit. We drove off the freeway and onto the curved exit for Edmonds and went towards an underpass and drove underneath it. A traffic light was ahead, but it turned green, allowing us to pass by a golf course.
We continued driving and I decided to turn on the radio. Maddie had brought along her iPod and asked if she could plug it in. Knowing that she probably had more familiar tastes in music than some random radio station, I allowed her to do so. I waited as she cued up a song, and soon her latest obsession, Royals by Lorde, played on my speakers.
We passed a PCC Natural Market, and came to a stop by a traffic light. We could clearly see where the ferry line was to start, and as soon as the light changed, I continued in that direction. We drove and drove down a slight incline and continued on, passing many big, beautiful, green trees. We passed by signs for schools, churches, and other things, until we arrived at the ferry dock, with half an hour to spare.
We got in line and were the third car. The green check point gleamed in the slight afternoon sun that crept through the clouds, though the day was maybe around seventy degrees. When it was our turn, we handed the kindly-looking woman our I.D.'s and she took them. I handed her my credit card, despite Maddie's objections, and paid our way. She handed back the cards, as well as the ferry ticket, and told us to go into the second lane.
We got out of the car as soon as it was parked and decided to walk around for a little while. I could feel my back popping slightly as I managed to stretch out my frame, and I could not even begin to tell you how good it felt to feel limp for half a second. We walked over to a little French café and stepped inside and walked up to the counter. We ordered two croissants stuffed with cheese and cups of tea. We sat on the little veranda outside and took in the salty sea air. Maddie would rush to get to her feet so as she could take pictures with her phone of various ships that sailed by on the water. She would gasp and then shake her head, wanting nothing more than to have a go at the boats' wheel.
I rolled my eyes in a good natured sort of way and added too many spoonful's of sugar to my delicate cup of tea. I sipped it slowly, burning my lips for a moment, but sucked through my teeth to keep from making any sound of pain. I take a bite of my croissant and shut my eyes in a wave of pleasure as the perfect blend of flaky croissant and creamy, stringy cheese makes contact with my taste buds.
"Okay, now that is a picture!"
My eyes fly open and see Maddie staring at me, phone pointed directly at my face. "Don't you dare," I say through gritted teeth.
Maddie's lovely face breaks into a grin and she throws her head back with a sudden burst of laughter. "I won't," she promises.
I turn my head to look at the beautiful shade of water on the overcast, but warm, afternoon. I see then that the ferry is about a quarter of the way from the dock, and hastily turn to throw my croissant into its bag and urge a perplexed-looking Maddie to do the same as I gulp down my tea. With our baked good in their respective bags, we hastily cram napkins into the pockets of our sweaters and rush back into the bakery. We go through the sweet and gourmet-smelling establishment before leaving out the front door and down the steps towards where my car is parked.
We make it back to the car just in time. I get behind the wheel and Maddie gets into the passenger door, quickly checking that her paints haven't been stolen as I start up the car. I push down on the gas and wait for the signal from the person in charge of directing us onto the boat. When the eye contact and the wave of consent are given, I nod back and press the gas and make a sharp turn to the left. We pass by a bar and another place to eat, and several people that are simply onlookers.
The name of the ferry, the Yakima, greets us with its gold lettering as we drive onto the boat. We are thankfully given the center section on the main deck, and only two cars behind the front. I shut off the car and pull the keys from the ignition and turn to Maddie. She suggests we finish eating our croissants before adjourning to the eating quarters—or, the galley area—of the boat for some ice cream. I accept her offer, eager to return to my gourmet pastry while it's still warm.
We chew our croissants quietly, and then go upstairs. We go to the bathroom and wash the bit of grease and pastry crumbs that remained on our fingers before drying our hands on the dark blue, attachable towel. It annoys me to think that someone would ever want a disgusting thing like that. I wrinkle my nose at the thought before Maddie and I walk out of the bathroom and into the galley. I select the vanilla with the cake cone, while Maddie selects the strawberry with a sugar cone. We each pay for our own ice cream, the grand total coming to less than five dollars, which surprised me greatly.
I shrug it off as we zip our sweaters farther up our necks before going outside to watch the journey towards Kingston. While Maddie is watching the water, her blonde hair blowing in the wind, I step back and climb the stairs to the upper deck. Maddie must have seen me or something, because at once she is right behind me, laughing. We bend down and stick our faces over the other side of the rail, watching the water lap at the sides of the ferry, all the while eating our ice cream.
All too soon, the Great and Powerful Oz comes on; it tells us to return to our respective vehicles, for the ferry ride is almost over. I mutter to Maddie about the Oz thing as we hastily run to my car. I retrieve moist towelettes from my purse and hand over one to Maddie as we wait for the safety net at the front of the boat to be taken down and stored away so as we can leave the ferry and continue with our trip.
I absentmindedly go over our trip again in my mind. The plan was to go to Sequim, Port Angeles, and then Forks before taking a ferry to Victoria. Once there, we would continue north to Vancouver, then go east towards the city of Abbotsford, then Bellingham, Anacortes, Mukilteo, and finally, Everett, and Shoreline, and then back to Seattle. I drummed my hands on my steering wheel again, wanting desperately to move.
We were finally given the okay from the man in some brightly colored vest before we drove out into Kingston. I wasn't sure how much ground we would be able to cover that day, but the plan was to get to at least Sequim, where dinner at the 101 Diner and a room at the Econo Lodge awaited us that evening. There was a Texaco about ten minutes from the ferry, and Maddie and I had agreed that we would fill up there before driving through Port Gamble—a small, 1800's type of town—where the two of us would do a little sightseeing before changing seats.
We passed by some grassy plains that seemed untouched for the last seventy or so years—to be honest, farming history wasn't my or Maddie's thing, despite the fact that my family had a couple of chickens. The trees were still green, albeit a little darker, due to the coldness of temperature up here with less sun. We finally arrived at the Texaco where I handed Maddie my credit card and I went inside to get snacks before leaving to go to the small coffee place there as well.
I grabbed Garden Salsa Sun Chips for Maddie, Pringles for me, and Ho-Hos for the both of us. I grabbed a Yoo-hoo for me and a coke for Maddie before dropping those things off at the car. I informed Maddie to give the car a full tank before turning around and walking to the little coffee place. The woman behind the counter was pleasant enough and I ordered a marshmallow drink for me and a mocha for Maddie. I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie for me and a sugar one for her before giving the lady the required amount of money and heading back for the car.
I handed Maddie her hot beverage and her cookie as we settled into the car. I knew that it would be interesting to see how Maddie handled my car, I thought to myself as I settled into the driver's seat. She had had her driver's license longer than I had, but I'd passed it on the first try, and she had had difficulty with parallel parking the first time around. I tried not to smirk at that as we got back onto the highway towards Port Gamble.
We entered the place a little before 3:30, and decided to check out what the museum was all about. We'd went online to the website and discovered that it would only be three dollars for each one of us, because we classified as students and therefore got a dollar off. We drove through the first main stretch of road until we came to red plaques with white letters, informing us that the museum was straight ahead, as well as antique shops, outdoor recreation, food, and an ATM.
We drove straight ahead and soon came to the museum. It reminded me of our local history museum, called the Nordic Heritage Museum, that Maddie and I had been to in the past. We parked the car and dug into our wallets for cash and our student I.D. cards. Once we found them, we got out of the car and headed for the museums main entrance. The hours posted on the door informed us that we had until 5:00 p.m., which gave us less than two hours, but I knew we'd make it work somehow.
We went to the front desk and flashed our I.D.'s and paid the kindly woman behind the counter. She smiled and gave us a map so as we could cut corners if we wanted to, but Maddie and I wanted to see everything the Port Gamble Historical Museum had to offer. There was a sign on a log near the main entrance, informing us that the museums exhibits had been opened since 1976, and that they hoped that we would find the exhibits, by looking into the past, both stimulating and educational.
We came to one room with a gorgeous-looking antique desk which seriously made my eyes pop with envy. I had two antique desks, but one was used for my computer, while the other just sat in my other bedroom for a decoration piece of sorts. This one, however, had papers on it; of course, we were not allowed to touch anything, so stimulation had to be for our eyes only. We stood there for a few moments more until pictures of old, black and white, boats caught Maddie's eye.
I had no idea why another picture referred to—and what looked to be on a marquee no less!—a dry good store as "fancy". Maybe their berries had once been locally grown and fresh, or coconuts had come directly from Hawaii or something like that. There were also scale models of houses that we'd passed outside, leading me to believe that nobody was attempting to fool anyone—they were just really old houses. There was also an old photograph of workers building houses which more than likely stood that day. The very precision that those men put into days' old architecture really enthralled me—in those days, you got your hands dirty.
I was also shocked to discover a Motion Picture Account Book, dated the years of 1917 through 1921. There were scrawled pieces of handwriting on every inch of the books' page, leading me to believe that people were in a great hurry to get started, and I couldn't blame them. It also excited me that a small town like that could have their own movie theater, but, I supposed that movies were a great, silent pastime back then.
And then there was the Puget Hotel, a sign that forbad gambling on the Mill's premises, and logs that had been fallen, with clear indicators as to what tree they were. One was a hemlock. The thing that I enjoyed the most was the dining room, and a bedroom of the hotel. It really drew me in to age-old living, and made me want to be a part of it.
By that time it was after 4:30 and we knew we had better be getting back on the road soon. It was nearly forty miles and almost forty-five minutes to Sequim, and we'd need time to get there without breaking the speed limit, eating dinner, and to check into the hotel. We decided that we'd check in to the hotel first, and then go to dinner. We passed by numerous green signs with standard white letters on the drive, and discovered more than a few advertisements for 7 Cedars Casino. Although we were underage, we still didn't gamble.
We made it into Sequim at around 5:15 p.m. and found Washington Street without any trouble. We found the Econo Lodge and parked the car in its lot before going inside the normal-looking front room. We told the man that we'd gotten a room with two queen-sided beds, with wireless and a satellite T.V. with HBO. We paid the man a little less than one hundred dollars before we handed us each our own key.
We showed him our bags and once those were all cleared we were free to go to our room. We went inside and Maddie chose the bed by the bathroom while I picked the one closer to the window. We proceeded to unpack our clothes and hung up our dresses in the massive cabinet-like space, with which hangers were provided. We decided to change for dinner; Maddie selected a pair of black leggings with a cream-colored floral top. I picked a pleated white skirt with a frilly black top.
It was around 5:45 by the time we left the hotel to go to dinner. We found the address by looking at my phone and found that the 101 Diner was only about three minutes away, by car, from the hotel. We pulled into the parking lot and grinned at each other, noting that this place was a 50's style joint that had to be delicious with pictures of old celebrities in black and white signed photographs. We got out of the car and made our way inside. The waiters and waitresses were dressed for the part and one gleeful woman in particular seemed to make it her duty to get us seated. Well, I supposed you could already say it was her duty, considering that it was more than likely in her job description.
We ordered a whole lot of food for not much money, and by the end of the meal were very full. We returned to the Econo Lodge and hooked up the HBO, only to find nothing "good" on. We turned the channel to SpongeBob who, despite our age, we enjoyed. The episode was called Graveyard Shift, and it was a fairly old one, dating from 2002. We laughed at the right intervals, then decided to get some sleep, for we did not know what other journeys would await us when we woke up.
