are we going?”
“Wherever the contest takes us.”
I wasn’t sure what that might mean. So far I’d found the geocache in the tree on campus, a little magnetic key hider near the library, and a couple on lampposts. I told Twiggy we could skip those from now on. Those were so embarrassing. The cache was hidden under a square cover and no matter how careful we were it made a horrific screeching noise and everybody around looked to see where the noise came from only to see two people poking around underneath the lamppost skirt. I didn’t even know it was called a skirt and I was a little embarrassed when Twiggy called it a skirt lifter. I couldn’t think of any reason to bring a jacket to go geocaching.
“I’ll come for a load of boxes in a couple of hours and we can plan our strategy over lunch. I’ll buy.”
“I’ve got enough for fast food,” I said.
“It’s okay. I got it.”
When I answered my door two hours later, Twiggy stood there in shorts, a muscle shirt, and sandals. Thankfully, he wasn’t wearing socks. However, with his Ichabod Crane walk he looked like his legs were trying to escape the shorts. And he was smiling like a fool.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked.
“Of course!” I said. “I’m really excited about it!”
“Then let me see those boxes,” he said. “Moving man at your service.”
“Did you get a close parking place?” I asked.
“As close as possible. In other words… no. But don’t worry about it. We’ll have it done before you know it.”
“I’ll go ask about using the dolly,” I said. Each wing of the dorm had a dorm supervisor and the sup had a dolly that we could borrow. It was sometimes hard to get my hands on it, but it was worth asking about. It would move three or four boxes compared to lugging the boxes out one by one.
“After you ask Mavis for the dolly, I want you to sort. Keep your clothes, bedding and toiletries. I’ll put the rest in storage.”
“All my clothes?”
“Yeah. We don’t know how often we will be able to do laundry. Boy Scout motto, always be prepared. Works well for geocachers, too.”
I didn’t really know what I needed to be prepared for. So far geocaching had been a relaxing, yet interesting pastime; something to make a walk across campus more interesting.
We had to carry several boxes to Twiggy’s car but then the dolly was left at my dorm room door and I stacked the remaining boxes on it.
“You’re sure you saved anything you might need?” Twiggy asked.
“Yeah.”
“And you have good shoes and a jacket?”
“If I must.”
He nodded and pushed the cart out to the wheelchair ramp.
Good byes in a girls’ dorm were so uncomfortable.
“So… you’ll write?” Sarah sniffled.
“Yeah, and I’ll even remember that you collect stamps and I’ll send postcards, too.”
Sniff, “Thanks! You’re like a sister to me!”
“And I’ll see you next semester, too.”
“Call.”
“You, too.”
“Ohh! I can’t believe it is over!” she cried.
Twiggy walked up, this time dressed in jeans and a geocaching t-shirt. I didn’t even know they made geocaching t-shirts.
“Take care of my new sister!” Sarah cried.
Twiggy didn’t understand the tears at all. Actually, neither did I. It was just a summer. No big deal. My sights were set on the road trip. I wasn’t very well travelled and the prospect of seeing new places was more enticing than winning the contest. Sarah gave me a tight hug with more promises to write and call. Twiggy and I tried to look sorry for Sarah’s sake, but we eagerly squeezed into his Toyota and drove to the storage unit. I helped him unload and when we were through we were tired but one step closer to adventure.
One reason I didn’t have many friends was that I was content to stay home. When I lived with my parents I read a lot. I fussed over my room, rearranging the furniture and the things on the walls. I would go places if somebody asked me to, and I usually had a good time when I did, but I wasn’t inclined to go by myself. In high school I was asked out a lot but boys were mostly worried about my over protective father. So I guess I was at least attractive. I had wavy brown hair that I had to control in the wind. I was fair skinned so I was constantly nagged to wear sunscreen. I did not put on a dress to go to the store. My mom seemed to understand that kids these days were not as refined as kids when she was growing up. So my jeans were acceptable if I wanted to go shopping with a woman who looked like a lawyer or a pastor’s wife. To me dresses were uncomfortable. I was a comfy person. A snuggle down in flannel blankets with the dog kind of person. So Twiggy’s geocaching contest sounded wildly adventurous to me even if all we did was go from parking lot to parking lot looking for magnetic hide-a-keys and peanut butter jars placed in the landscaping.
At the storage facility we had to shell out big bucks for… space. I wasn’t used to spending money just to have a space to put things in, but if it meant going geocaching or not going geocaching I decided I had to make the sacrifice, so when we were through there I didn’t mind so much that Twiggy was buying my lunch. We sat at Donner’s, which was known for their chicken fried steak, and squinted at the screen of Twiggy’s laptop. Donner’s was near the university and they didn’t mind students coming in and nursing a cup of coffee all night while they studied or read. The only disadvantage to Donner’s was that they also didn’t mind if the students played the jukebox and the jukebox had internet access so there was no telling what kind of garbage might blare forth from it while students were trying to nurse a cup of coffee and read a book. It was terribly unnerving to be reading a romance novel to the tune from some Swedish rock band. Sometimes they didn’t even carry a tune. They just made noise. I guess college students think it makes them look cultured if they like foreign music. I heard a lot of Swedish, German, and Japanese music at Donner’s. I was used to the music my parents listened to and I hardly ever heard that at the diner.
“We’re right here,” Twiggy said as we squinted at the geocaching map. I couldn’t even recognize the city because of all the little boxes that represented caches.
“Zoom in a little,” I said.
“Nah, we know where we are, the thing is we have to fill in our Fizzy Grid before we get to the event.”
“Oh no!” I mockingly wailed. “I packed my Fizzy Grid. It’s in the box labeled Gwen’s bookcase.”
“No you didn’t. Your Fizzy Grid is online. And half your boxes were labeled Gwen’s bookcase.”
“I had three bookcases, a bed and a closet.
