The hidden years in Canada 179, the winding road

Door San-Daniel gepubliceerd op Friday 11 September 20:19


The winding road

I felt strong, I had taken control of my life, a control that I would never relinquish. I looked at the Pontiac that had been connected to all the events in my life. All the misery in my life over the past four years. It had been my escape vehicle, my get away car. It had been present when my mother died and when my brother was killed. It had seen my first days in heavy construction, with Louis the Lip and the others. It had transported us to Deadhorse Creek with our gold seeking adventure, when friends formed a tight group and here he was waiting for me. You almost expected that the old American had a soul, or particles of events stored in it.

I walked outside and started the old jalopy and the pistons bid me welcome when I turned the key, with a deep drumming. I knew where I was going, right to the shopping center, to find a book shop with maps. The city was magical, there were so many people and I had a kind of homesickness already, I was taking leave of her, bidding her farewell. I had to follow my feeling and those did not belong in this country where I had lost two people who were dear to me and I realized that I had no future here, I would go always running around in the same circles and do the same kind of work. It was not fair that I had to make choices, but I had made the decision and I knew I would find my future in Europe.

The girl in the shop was very helpful and explained to me how you could calculate the scale at the bottom of the map. Under normal circumstances I would have done some flirting and ask her out after work, but my head was not there. I had dropped a load, which had been building up for years. ‘Can I do anything else for you,’ the girl asked ambiguously when I accepted the map. I compared her with Beverly and she fell short by a long shot, 'no,' I said, 'thank you' and I walked out of the store. I would go to Richard's house and there with him discuss my plan and study the map. The Pontiac slid rumbling through the streets like a predator.

I saw it at once, it was all wrong, the home of Richard's mother had a sign next to the door, 'to let', it said. I parked the car and still got out to peek through the windows. There was no furniture anymore. They had moved. I knew where to go, I’d go to POPs, he would know more. I was convinced of that. I left a few moments later the heavy American in a parking spot and got out.


Pop, was standing with a mug in one hand and a coffee can in his other hand, he looked up in surprise. ‘No,’ he exclaimed, ‘here we have my favorite Sirtaki dancer. I had to laugh involuntarily. Pop looked past me, ‘is the rest coming’ he wanted to know. ‘No, I was hoping to meet them here,’ I said. ‘Vain hope,’ said Pop, ‘I've not seen them in weeks, do you fancy a cup of coffee.’ I nodded. ‘I am going on a journey  Pop,’ I said, ‘and maybe I'll never see you back.’ ‘We are all on a journey, said Pop,’ and sometimes we find our own way and sometimes we'll never back track on our steps, that's normal. ‘ I nodded and then I had my coffee and I stuck out my hand. ‘Thanks Pop,’ I said, ‘you have been a point of rest in my life.’ Pop looked a little shy and then replied, ‘I am happy to hear that, be the same later for others, if the situation so arises. ‘I'll remember that,’ I promised him and stepped out the door. Now I’d go looking for a photographer, and I thought my schedule was going well.

San Daniel 2015

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