Tales of Olsen

3

Dinner came much quicker than I had anticipated but after rushing to get ready and watching my dad lug all three of my suitcases into the back of his van, we were off to the restaurant. Our family had built a routine since my father came back from the war which was having dinner every Thursday night at a Mexican restaurant called Carlos. My father, Thomas, didn’t have much experience with spicy food coming from an all white Texan family, but my mother had taught him how to eat the spicy Mexican foods he loved. Their love had always inspired me, even when my mother thought he had died while he was away, she had still held on to hope that they’d be reunited. My father had returned eventually and after quitting the military, he began a family practice in our little town.

“Are you ready?” my dad asked as we backed out of the driveway.

“As ready as I will ever be,” I replied

Taking a final look up at the house, I decided to save the tears for the airport. I needed to be strong for my parents or our dinners would be swimming in tears. The drive to the restaurant didn’t take much time and we were just in time to catch mom stepping out of her police cruiser.

“Are you all packed?” she asked as we entered the building

“Yes,” I replied

We were taken to our usual booth and just like all the other times we had come here, the waiter brought each of us our usual orders.

“We have a surprise for you,” my mother said beaming at me with a taco in her hand.

“First class seats?” I asked excitedly

“No,” dad replied with low a chuckle.

“I helped pick it out,” Andrew said, “I know you’ll love it.”

“What is it?” I asked suddenly eager to know what they had gotten for me and how they had kept it hidden for so long.

“We got you a car,” dad said, “medical school can be draining and we want you to be able to get around easily.”

My jaw dropped and if I could have burst with joy, I was sure that I would have at that moment.

“Are you guys kidding me?” I asked

“Why would we kid?” dad asked with a cheeky grin, “Andrew even made sure to get it in purple.”

I looked over at my brother who shrugged and smiled.

“I’ll have something to drive when I come to visit,” he said

I shook my head realizing what he had just said,

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered as my eyes finally began to fill with tears.

“Oh no, no crying yet,” dad whispered putting his hand on my shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. “you promised you’d wait until we got to the airport.”

“Yeah but you guys sprung this on me,” I replied trying to hold back the tear, “all deals are off,”

My mother laughed, and I looked up to see her looking at me with loving eyes.

“Fine, but you cannot ugly cry like you always do.” she teased

That did the job and suddenly all her tears vanished.

“I do not ugly cry mom,” I cried defensively

Everyone at the table laughed. It had been a running joke in our family since I was a baby. Now that I was older, I resisted the urge to contort my face as I cried, and now, I could safely say that I was the prettiest ‘cryer’ I knew.

“You guys keep this up, I won’t be around for Christmas.” I teased jokingly

“It’s easy enough to get out there and embarrass you in front of your friends darling,” dad said, “don’t make empty threats.”

We all laughed then.

The night went on and after what seemed like forever, it was time to go. I said tear-filled goodbyes to the staff who had become like family over the years before leaving. Somehow, until the moment we all got into the car and began driving away from our little suburban community, I hadn't thought any of this was really happening. I took the time to stare out the window at all the familiar places I would miss after I was gone. After some time, the trees began to block my view and we drove farther and farther away from my hometown, from the place I called home.

“Is everything alright?” mom asked from the front seat, “you're quiet.”

“I guess I'm gonna miss this place.” I replied, “I hadn't thought about that.”

The car was silent, but I knew they were all thinking about just how much they were going to miss me.

We got to the airport much sooner than I had expected. As we pulled into the parking lot, we saw Jordan and her mother hauling two giant suitcases out of the trunk.

“Dear God,” mom whispered as we stepped out of the car, “I think she needs help.”

We unloaded my suitcases from the trunk and I stood back admiring how well I had managed to pack most of my life into two cases. They weren't as big as Jordan's but they had all I needed.

“I’ll go get one of those trolley things,” my mother said

We all agreed, and so while mom went to get a trolley, I called out to Jordan and her Mom who was grinning from ear to ear.

“You must be so excited,” Phoebe said as they walked over to us, “I know you girls are gonna have so much fun.”

“Mom,” Jordan said

“Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Phoebe replied,

I was about to say something along the lines of being uncomfortable but to my relief, my mother rescued us.

“We should go in and get you girls checked in,” she said,

Together we all bustled into the airport. The line to check in was much longer than I thought it would have been.

“I bet it would have been shorter if we took the early morning flight” Jordan whispered as we walked into the building.

Jordan was a lot like the girls in school that nobody usually liked. She was tall and beautiful, and she knew it. Her long red hair had never been cut and so it hung all the way down to her hips. She had chosen to wear it straight which only emphasized the angular set of her face. She wasn't cute, she was ‘dropped right out of a magazine’ beautiful.

The best things about her, however, was her beautiful heart. Over the years many persons had tried to win her heart and her attention, but she had always been too focused to get mixed up with anything or anyone. It was why we had become such great friends. She was only a bit shorter than my six feet, but she measured up in forcefulness. We had always been the greatest of contrasts in our school. Her with bright red hair and blue eyes and me with brown skin and big curly hair.

“You promised not to complain about this,” I whispered as we joined the line.

“Fine,” she mumbled, “but you're buying the food.”

I shrugged, it was a small price to pay.

Thirty minutes later we were checked in and ready to board the plane. The goodbyes were as tearful as anyone could imagine but we finally parted.

“Gosh I'm going to miss them,” Jordan said as the escalator carried us away from our families. They were looking up at us with tears in their eyes.

“Me too,” I replied softly.

Before long we made it to the waiting area and the medallion flashed through my thoughts. I pulled it from my bag and wondered how I had carried it through the security checkpoint without anyone realizing.

“This is what I found,” I said handing it to Jordan.

She looked down at the medallion and then back at me with a quizzical expression.

“I thought you said you didn't remember your drawings,” she said.

“I don't,” I replied wondering why she was looking at me like that.

“Eloise, why are you messing with me?” she asked

“I'm not,” I replied

Without another word, she began digging through her designer handbag. It was one of the perks of having a mother who was financed by a large trust fund. From the bag, she pulled out three papers.

“This you dated when you were four,” she said handing a sheet of pink construction paper to me. I could tell it was old, but she must have kept it well preserved for it to have lasted so many years.

Looking down at the paper I could see some resemblance between the medallion in my hand and the drawing, yet it wasn't enough to convince me that I had known about it since I was a child. She handed me a second sheet of paper.

“Then when you were seven, you gave this to me,” she said

The newer drawing was better, and it looked much more like the medallion.

The last paper she held to her chest.

“You gave me this when you were ten,” she said, “you said a woman showed it to you and told you one day you'd have to find it to stay alive”

My heart began to race, and it felt as if I was about to pass out. When she turned the paper to face me I knew why she had been so surprised.

“That's the medallion” I whispered, “I drew that?”

“I was with you,” she whispered, “you drew this when you were ten and now, you’re holding the medallion. What’s going on?”

I shook my head not knowing what to say. I was just as confused as she was.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but I hope I’ll find out soon.”