The Corridor

Over the last few days, I went through all those “Stages of Grief” I have always heard people talking about. After discovering that I was kidnapped along with my bus and Princess Sparkles I panicked at first. I knew this couldn’t be real. I kept walking from my bus to the wall to make sure there really was something blocking me from leaving my “campsite.” 

Eventually, I got mad, I threw rocks, I screamed, I begged to be released-yet every time I tried I still could not find any way out. I began looking for ways to climb a little higher and check around the wall where I couldn’t otherwise reach. The ceiling was just as consistent as the wall. I walked the wall over and over and over.

I wasn’t sleeping, at least not much, and thankfully I wasn’t too hungry because my food supply was getting pretty low. Most of Thursday evening, I sat and cried. That night, I couldn’t help myself, I finally slept. The next morning, I walked out the door and into the room and peered out into the seemingly distant mountains. I began to notice a faint pattern in the hills and sky-like a grid of some sort. 

I walked as far as I could from the bus, touched the wall, and looked closely where the wall is. Focusing on an area where there appears to be nothing was a little tricky at first, but eventually, I saw… panels. There were several panels that together made up the wall. I walked back to the bus, picked Princess Sparkles up out of her cage,
and sat in my lawn chair considering the wall for the rest of the afternoon. I thought I may have been stunned back into grief stage one.

On Saturday morning, I walked the wall again. However, this time my hand found something different. I walked a couple more steps before I realized I had touched a little divet in the wall. I stopped, took a deep breath, and backed up. Sure enough, there was a spot in the wall, just about the size of a latch on an RV door, that my hand could fit into.

“Goddess of luck, please be on my side,” I murmured. 

I put my hand into the space and pulled toward myself. A piece of the wall was pulled out, and I heard the “click” of a latching mechanism as a door opened. I stepped back, hands held to my mouth, and looked out through the door that appeared to be standing in the middle of the Sonoran desert. I turned and ran back to the bus, praying the door wouldn’t close when I turned around. I grabbed Princess Sparkles and my phone and came back to walk through the doorway.

In front of me, there was a corridor. It was dark and cold and metallic. I slowly walked petting Princess Sparkles, who sat on my shoulder.

Eventually, we came to a door. “Well, PS, it can’t get too much weirder, could it?” I turned the doorknob and opened the door.

Inside was a scene I could barely believe. I was in a book store.

Guys, there is something freaking crazy going on here. I think I am going crazy. Am I still sick? Is this a fever dream?

 Guys, there is something freaking crazy going on here. I think I am going crazy. Am I still sick? Is this a fever dream?

Let me explain:

My mom called me back on Sunday. She hired a mechanic and she told me he was going to be here on Tuesday. 

“Do you have enough supplies to get through until then?” she asked me.

“Barely.” I responded, “But I will be fine. Luckily I didn’t eat much last week. I have a decent amount of water and ramen.”

“Maybe I should come to get you? You can stay with us in the spare room.”

I sighed, “Nah, mom, I think I will be okay.”

Of course, she responded with the necessary “if you change your mind…” stuff, but I finally convinced her that I am okay. Part of living on the road in an old VW Bus is having times like these.

On Tuesday, the mechanic called and I gave him directions to my campsite. I got some coffee, got into my camp chair and I waited. And waited. And waited.

Hours later, I got a call. “Hi, Twila? I am at the campsite you described and there is no one here.”

Oh my goodness, you have got to be kidding me.

I got up, wandered around the bus, and looked out around the campsite. “What do you mean, you are here? I am looking everywhere and I don’t see another soul in any direction! Okay, I am going to walk around a bit and look for you.”

He conceded though he agreed that you can see a long way where he was parked and could not see anyone else around.

I started walking down the road toward Tucson. “How far out of town did you drive?” I asked, “Ma’am, I followed your directions to at.” He said, “Unless your directions were bad, I am exactly where you told me to be.”

Oh, that set me off “Listen, here! I have been traveling around a long time and I sure as Hell know how to get to a place! If you are lost, that's on you. So let me tell you again. You start by driving- what the fuck?”

I had walked into a wall. 

I had left my bus, walked twenty feet from my chair, and ran into some kind of an invisible wall.

I dropped my phone. I could faintly hear the mechanic yelling at me through the speaker. He hung up. 

I just stood there, mouth open, staring out across the desert, but unable to walk further. I reached my hand out and could feel what was blocking me. It felt smooth. I turned to the side and walked around, touching the wall and dragging my fingers along its borders. It took me around in a circle around my bus. There is not a break in it. I climbed up on the side of the bus and reached up. There is a ceiling as well. I am in a room.

Stranded!

 I woke up yesterday morning hyped up and ready to start on my journey to Florida. After getting dressed, doing some stretches I made my breakfast. I often share some of my breakfast with Princess Sparkles, so I broke off a piece of bell pepper for her. She was curled up in her little nest box, though, and would only timidly come out to snatch the pepper from my hand.

I looked in on her sweet little face, “are you okay, my sweet?” I asked. She did not respond, because she is a rat. But she did hide back away in her nest. “Poor baby,” I said “Maybe you will feel better when we get across the state line.”

I scooted my way up into the driver seat, did one final arm stretch, reached under the steering wheel, turned the key, and... Delilah wouldn’t start. She didn’t even try. There wasn’t even the sound of a click from the battery. She. was. DEAD.

It was time to get dramatic.

“Dear Abeona,  Goddess of the journey, why have you forsaken me!?” 

I popped the opened the door, grunted, and walked back to the engine compartment. I opened the door and stared at the engine for a while.

“Why am I looking at the engine? I don’t know a thing about this!” I slammed the compartment door shut, let out another cry of frustration, and sat down on the earth. 

“I wonder if Mom has forgiven me enough to come out and give me a jump. Or loan me some money for a mechanic.”

I called both my mom and my dad and both calls went to voicemail.

Oh yeah, it’s Sunday. They are at church.

I may be staying here one more day. Luckily the weather is supposed to be nice the next couple days. I have everything I need anyway. I guess I can meditate, drink some coffee, read a little more of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and bide my time until my parents can help me out

Time to Get Started!

Hi! I'm Twila North. I am a graphic designer who works remotely from all over the US. I live in my Orange VW Bus with my pet rat, Princess Sparkle. My bus, which I have dubbed Delilah, is a converted VW bus with a futon, a shower/bathroom, a kitchenette, and a table. She is my one true love!

I go where the wind takes me- though I tend to stay where the weather is favorable for my simple lifestyle.

This Thanksgiving was held at my parent's house in Tucson, AZ.  I found a fairly remote little spot to camp while staying near Tucson for the festivities.

This year, I decided to pull a little prank on my parents and put some octopus tentacles in the turkey when they were not looking. When my mother opened the oven, she let out a scream that could even be heard over the sound of my father's football game in the downstairs living room! She babbled on about something growing out of the turkey, while I laughed at the other end of the room. My father ran in, found her staring in shock at the turkey, turned to me, and also laughed. 

"Twila, tell me that you at least cooked the octopus before you stuffed it up the turkey's butt." He chuckled.

"Of course, dad! I'm not a monster!"

"Congratulations." said my mother "You get octopus for Thanksgiving dinner." I don't think she was amused.

Luckily for me, I actually like octopus. . .when I buy it from a restaurant. Unluckily for me, I don't have a clue how to cook octopus. It was very chewy and salty and hard to eat.

Also, it made me really sick.

I meant to spend some time poking around Tucson for a day, then to go out and spend a few days camping, then to make my way East towards the warmer weather of Florida. Instead I have found myself laying on my futon under a pile of blankets with a puke-bowl nearby for comfort. Occasionally Sparkle will lay on my chest for some cuddles.

I lay here, staring at the ceiling, considering my evil tendencies and asking "dear God, what have I done!?"

I allowed myself the week to recover and am now finally feeling ready to get started on my journey East. I leave tomorrow. Thank goodness! I don't think I will be eating much more Cthulu turkey in the future. 

Florida, here I come!