A little while ago my mother turned to me. She was talking about her friends at work and how they were up in arms against some injustice and how they were going to brainstorm later today at Cafe Vulduna. The steering wheel under my grips suddenly veered to the left and the car swung sharply. Fortunately for us we were in the furtherest left lane and didn't hit anything when swerved to the left. 45 minutes later AAA tells us that we probably hit a big pot hole on the freeway. They change our tire and our quick jaunt into the City turned into a three-hour ordeal.
"Let's get lunch," my mother cried, as we got back into the freeway and made our way into the City.
"All this for a stupid plant" I say, my hands a little shaky and loose from the ordeal.
"Don't remind me. Let's get off at Moonrise and eat at Laramie's, we're definitely going to need some ---"
"COMFORT FOOD!"
"Comfort Food."
We both say in unison. I was excited but I could tell in my mother's voice she was still deflated with the whole situation. It could have been worse I tell her as we drive through the city-streets. We could have hit a car, a person, the wall divider even. We got off surprisingly well, all things considered. Just one bum tire, got AAA to reach us before traffic started - we got lucky.
As I turned to her with more words to say, I notice her fast asleep next to me.
"Mom," is all I can mutter, as I wipe a tear from my face.
The traffic's already set in and I'm zooming through the city-streets hoping to get to Laramie's soon. Usually the traffic just gets on my nerves and I get super angry but today I find the ride a little hypnotic. All my stops are perfect. When the green light shines, the car moves forward in such a fluid action I think I'm the captain of a small skipper ship on the high oceans. The radio is at a lull and surprisingly there isn't much honking going on. I make my way across the streets, the high rises, and the many sorts of people walking on the streets living their own lives.
I wonder about this often when I course through the City. How many of these people are heroes of their stories? How many are villains? Side Kicks? Are they succeeding? Are they failing? I always wonder about this and about people. My mind racks with these questions and a plethora of possibilities when I find myself stopping and putting the car in park. We were here at Laramie's.
"Now how the hell did that happen," I whisper to myself.
I reach for my mother's shoulder.
"Are we there yet, Sarah" she musters from her sleep.
"Yeah Mom, we're here!"
Walking up the steps I know what she's going to get. Tuna melt sandwich with a side salad with 1000 Islands dressing. And a small tomato. I ask her why she always gets this and she always says "you like what you like and you should never be ashamed of that".
It's at the table that I find myself wiping another tear from my face. I put aside my hand before our waitress comes to us.
"How can I help you," she says as she puts more napkins on the table.
"I'm still deciding," I say as I look at the menu wondering what I should try today.
"Go ahead, Mom."
I'm looking at the menu, when my eyes fall to the sandwiches and I start to think that the Tuna Melt doesn't sound so bad tonight. I look up at the waitress who's face now was a little strange. I didn't hear Mom give her order. I catch a tear running down my cheek again.
"I don't know what's wrong with me today," I say with a chuckle. "She'll have a tuna melt sandwich with a side salad. 1000 Island dressing and a small tomato on top, too, okay."
"Excuse me," she says.
"It's for my Mom."
"Will she be joining you tonight?"
Perplexed I put down the menu and point at my mother. But she's not there. I look back at the Waitress who's face is now white. The restaurant begins to spin and I can feel more tears running down from my cheek.
And that's when I remember.
We didn't get lucky. Only I did. I did hit a pot hole and I did swerve to the left. But we weren't the only car. A truck behind us followed as well and hit the car. I was already unconscious but the paramedics told me that after we hit the wall, my Mother saw the truck behind us and went over to me. She protected me as the truck tore through the car and took her away.
I remember.
I take the napkins and wipe away the tears from my face. I look over to the Waitress and tell her what I want. I'm not sure how long it took from that moment until the tuna melt sandwich was in front of me, and the side salad with 1000 Island dressing with the small tomato also staring up at me. But it felt like Forever.
"Are you alright dear? You've been crying an awful lot."
"No it's ok. It's ok."
"If you want, I can box up your food and you can eat it later."
"No it's alright. I want to eat it now. It was my Mother's favorite."
