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July 13th, Yes Trek Day 3
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How Yann awoke first, early and
chipper, was beyond me. Just being vertical was beyond me. I did
manage to stand and walk weaving down the stairs, passing the
halfnaked frame of Yann who was happily packing up and humming warmly
in his deep voice. Wincing I walked to the kitchen, hand on head, to
get water for aspirin. When Yann singsong said good morning I
momentarily left my queasiness to question how it was he could be his
usual self while I was feeling so someone else entirely. I returned
to the angel bed to await the affects of the aspirin.
It seemed as if vertigo and vomit
were to be the distinguishing factors of the day for me. I refused to
accept pity from anyone -- I'd done this to myself -- but I was in
need of care. I wasn't to realize until the following morning, once
the haze in my head had cleared, that, truly, the most prominent
qualities of Day 3 would be those of the kindness and consideration
lavished upon me by my new friends and traveling companions. Yann
endeared himself to me by fulfilling a request to prepare an infusion
of Feverfew flowers. I had some fresh herbs in the cooler, a few
remedies, for headache (Feverfew), nausea (Peppermint), sleeplessness
(Chamomile) and colds (Echinacea root). He brought my herb container,
I snipped the flowers into his cupped palms and he returned soon
after with the bitter-tasting, steaming liquid. Merci, mon ami. Bill
Maddock, too, showed himself a considerate soul by running out to a
drug store without my knowledge and returning to ceremoniously
present no less than three heartfelt varieties of upset stomach
medicines. Nothing but the passage of time, however, would spell
R-E-L-I-E-F for me. His magnanimous gesture of going and getting and
giving did elicit a groan of gratitude from me, and I hope he
noticed. Thank you, Bill.
The aspirin and tea eventually made
it possible for me to maneuver back and forth between van and house
enough times to pack up. Jeff had to leave first to get to a family
barbecue and gave me a tape of his music to play on our way west.
Bill hugged us all goodbye -- long, long, hugs from a tall, tall guy
-- and he asked that we deliver one to Wendy on his behalf. (Ours
would not be nearly as tall, but they were equally long.) I surely
fell short of expressing my vast amount of gratitude to him and Jeff
, too, for coming all that way to meet us. I hope they had an
exceedingly fine time and felt it was well worth their while. I would
have been more demonstrative in parting with both of them, but my
ability to walk around was fast being replaced by a need to stretch
out horizontally and not move.
Just as we were leaving, Don Dunn
returned with his wife, Alicia, and my nephew, Devin. I was very glad
to get to see them, so that all my dallying that morning paid off. We
briefly exchanged how-do's and explained our goal of meeting online
friends in the flesh while celebrating our passion for Yesmusic. I
thanked the Dunns for their incredible act of generosity, and
apologized for any inconvenience. They wouldn't accept regrets for
anything, though, insisting that our pleasure was their
pleasure.
yann, chris, merry, devin, don,
alicia
Devin is with his dad during the
summer, and I wondered if the reason he kept hugging me was because
of my resemblance to his mom, my sister. I have a son about his age
and I missed all my kids terribly, so as we were leaving, I asked him
if I could just hold him awhile. Neither of us wanted to let go. When
the van door finally slammed shut I was in tears and wondered how
well the single young men in my party could relate or understand.
Chris and Yann commandeered the
Trek, demonstrating not only an adeptness at driving and navigating,
respectively, but proving to me that they both were caring, sensitive
and trustworthy kinds of guys. Music selection was always the first
order of business and they chose to listen to Kathy's "mystery tape,"
an assortment of songs she'd sent to try to challenge and stump us on
our travels. We guessed a few of them. We hopped on Interstate 40,
where we would spend many miles over the next two days. I was supine
in the back, holding Jon, Chris' stuffed panther, with a silk herbal
pillow over my face. The one tune I recognized on Kathy's tape, an
Eno/Cale song from their Wrong Way Up, caused me to leap up and
shout, a reaction I instantly regretted. Chris was driving and I
informed him more than once on our way to Little Rock, Arkansas, of a
red alert situation, that if the request came, could he please pull
over immediately. Sorry to have so inadequate a description of this
leg of the journey. My stomach does remember every bump in the road
in Arkansas.
The reason for our planned stay in
Little Rock was that J. Derek Furstenwurth would be arriving at the
airport there in the early morning to accompany the Yestrek to
Oklahoma City. The plan was to get a hotel room near the airport,
easy enough, and I was glad that my input was not needed in any
decisions for the rest of the day. I was free to wallow in
sick feeling
sick reasoning
hoping only to cozy up to a clean
porcelain receptacle. The decision to stay at a Holiday Inn came not
a moment too soon. I heard a mockingbird singing in the parking lot,
a promising sign of the eventual return of well-being. Tenderly I was
guided to a room in a dizzy daze by Yann while Chris lugged my stuff.
They were so nurturing: thank you again, guys! They left me with
Jon-the-panther in peace to sleep while they enjoyed dinner and
played video games. The rest of the day's events manage somehow to
elude my memory of them. Zzzzzz.
my
merry tale ****
Day
4