Our village looks deserted.
Well, that’s because everyone is in their houses since it’s just past five in the morning. So there I am, bumming around town when Lane, a neighbor from two doors down, calls out to me and asks what I am doing up early. Nothing, I tell her. She asks if I want to test her new bike with her.
Guess it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Turns out I was wrong. We have been on the road for more than an hour now without a real destination in mind. I ask her if she has gas money. She tells me not to worry.
Since bikes are not allowed on the expressway, we take service roads. All I know is where we are heading south. Only when Lane asked what date it is and I said that it’s May 15 that it dawned on me where we’re going.
“You should’ve left earlier,” I said.
“Had I made up my mind earlier, I would’ve.”
No matter how many years pass, I could still recognize the roads and the trees that line them, the mountains and the view from where they stand, and the unmistakable banners that welcome visitors for the annual town fiesta.