Let's Get Lost

Bree shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tensing up. She wasn’t good at dealing with diseases. She’d dealt with her parents’ for long enough. Then Leila cracked a smile. Bree relaxed. “Shut up. I almost believed you.”

Leila leaned in toward the steering wheel as her body shook with laughter. “Wow, I did not think that you’d fall for that. I’m not usually a good liar.” She controlled her laughter, then said, “No, I’m going to Alaska to see the Northern Lights. I want to take some pictures for my school portfolio.”

Bree nodded and looked out her window at the midwestern sky. She sometimes felt as if she might be swallowed up by it. The music coming from the speakers was fast, brimming with energy that resonated with Bree and clashed with the emptiness of the landscape. “That’s pretty cool,” she said. “Ever seen them before?”

“Just in pictures. Have you?”

Bree turned away from the window. “Yeah, when I was a kid. In Europe.” The memory was faint, the sight of the Northern Lights overwhelmed by the presence of her parents. She couldn’t even remember if it had been Switzerland or Denmark where she’d seen them, or how her mom had smelled: coffee on her breath or soap on her skin. Bree often wished she’d paid more attention before the smell of sickness started invading everything. “I don’t really remember them all that well, though.”

“Hmm,” Leila said, momentarily lost in thought. She brought a hand up to her mouth and chewed absentmindedly on the skin between her thumb and forefinger.

“How long have you been on the road for?” Bree asked.

“I’m just getting started. The later it is in summer, the better the chance to see the Lights, so I’m going slowly,” Leila said, moving both hands to the steering wheel. “You?”

“Um, it’s been a few months, I guess. It’s hard to keep track of time after a while. Which is kind of how I like it.”

“Why’s that?”

“When you don’t have any reason to think of days as weekdays or weekends, you start to realize that all days are pretty much the same. And that kind of gives you the freedom to do whatever you want. It’s a lot easier to seize the day than it is to seize a Tuesday. You have errands on Tuesday. On Tuesday you eat pizza again. Your favorite TV show is on Tuesday, you know? But the day...” she said, adding hand gestures to signify the importance. “The day is all just hours you’re alive for. They can be filled with anything. Unexpectedness, wildness, maybe a little bit of lawlessness, even.” She looked over at Leila to gauge her reaction. “If that makes sense.”

Leila glanced away from the road to smile appreciatively at Bree. “Yeah, I think I know what you mean.” She turned back to the road. “Seize the Tuesday.” A few moments passed. A new song came on, another burst of energy and liveliness. Bree reached back to her bag to grab a granola bar and offered one to Leila, which she accepted with a thank-you.

When she was done with it, Leila stuffed the wrapper into the plastic bag hanging off the gearshift. “You ever find it easier said than done? The whole seizing-the-day thing. Carpe diem