Not all who wander—in South Carolina

 

Chapter One

In the last adventure that I shared, I quoted J.R.R. Tolkiens who said, “Not all who wander are lost.” Despite the difficulties of finding my way on my own farm, I still held fast to this mantra. I do, however have to admit, that occasionally my wandering ways get me into some uncomfortable situations, one of which, I’m going to share with you, now. (Sadly—there have been many lost adventures to choose from).

It has long been my habit to arise early in the morning, generally before first light and venture out for a hike, snow shoe or walk, depending on the time of the year. This is my thinking / praying time and I rarely miss it, no matter where I am.

On this occasion Bob and I were down in South Carolina visiting some friends. It was Sunday morning and we planned to get up early and go to one of the local churches for a time of southern fellowship. As usual, I awoke early and not wanting to disturb anyone, I decided to sneak out for a little walk. So, I quickly got dressed in some old grubby clothes, tossed on my tennis shoes and tip toed out the door. I was only going around the block so I didn’t prepare as I might have done for a proper outing. I didn’t wash my face and comb my curly mop into respectable order or brush my teeth. I didn’t take my phone, I didn’t leave a note, I didn’t dress for company, I didn’t wear a watch, I didn’t take along any ID or money and lastly, I didn’t really check the address of the house we were staying at. But what did it matter—this was just a short, casual prayer walk—no big adventure. Gosh, the sun was barely up—I wasn’t going to meet any people?

 

Chapter Two

Off I went. I am very aware of my propensity for getting lost, so I was determined that it would not happen on this trek. As I stepped out of the door, I looked very closely at the house to the right and noted that there was no house—just a field on the left. Across the street was a plain two-story house, with brown shutters. Peering down the road, it seemed that the best way to go was right, so I headed that way. This cul-de-sac had fairly upscale houses, on decent sized lots with cultivated flower beds and paved driveways. Before very long, I reached a dead-end and had to turn around. Within fifteen minutes I was back at my starting place.

“Harumph,” that walk was much too short—I usually walked for an hour. Looking to the left, I decided that it would be equally safe to go that way, so I headed off. This time, the view was different. Gone were the prissy houses on nice lots—instead there were fields, barns, trailers and flags, everywhere. Every fallen down porch had a flag and at least one goat on it.

“What a strange place this is,” I thought. “On one side of the side road, you had mansions and riches and on the other, homesteads and goats—plus flags.”

It wasn’t long before this road also dead-ended, so I turned around, again. The sun still hadn’t shown its shining face—lots of time left. There was another side road up ahead and I figured that I would head down this country road, then take the first cutoff to the right, then venture along that road to the first cutoff to the right, and lastly venture along that road to the first cutoff to the right and I would be back where I started because that was a square! The theory was very sound, but unfortunately the execution was a bit flawed.

 

Chapter Three

I walked for a long time. I knew this, despite not having a watch with me, because the sun was up now and shining brightly, announcing a bold new day. I lifted my eyebrows. My square theory just wasn’t coming to an end, as I expected. Weariness alerted me that I’d travelled farther than planned. I carried on, since I just knew that the house would be in sight just around the next bend. I had an uneasy feeling that I was running out of time, so I decided to run for awhile.  I have no idea of how long I ran, but I was coated in sweat and there was still no house in sight when I finally gave up—exhausted. Concern flickered across my mind—was I lost? I took inventory of my present situation—hmmm, grubby, unkempt, sweaty appearance, no ID, no money, no idea of where I was, and no real idea of the address or phone number of my friends. Did that spell trouble—was I LOST?

 

Chapter Four

What were my options? Pray—well I’d been doing that for the last hour, but clearly this was one of those times in my life, when the Lord was teaching me something, since He didn’t teleport me back to bed—presuming this was just a bad dream.

“Okay, you’re an adult. Don’t panic—think,” I mumbled. Clearly, I needed to pop into a corner store and ask directions or ask to use the phone. Simple, except, there were no stores in sight, and looking down, I remembered my dishevelled appearance. Grubby sweat pants and my hair was a frizzy mess, like a Phyllis Diller hairdo. Certainly not fit for company. I further observed that the houses within sight were either large mansions with closed gates or old tar paper, shanty houses flying Confederate flags with goats on their porches. I was too grubby to go to the nice houses and too afraid to go to the other, so I kept walking, keeping my eyes open for a health club or golf course or some sort of community building, where I could ask for directions without too much of an explanation or loss of life!

After quite a while I spotted what I thought was a health club straight up ahead. I jogged up the long, winding driveway. When I arrived at the front entrance the sign told me that I had been mistaken, that this place was in fact a home for the elderly. I shrugged—beggars can’t be choosers and I was prepared to beg. Feeling somewhat confident since it was an institution, I creaked open the door.

 

Chapter Five

I went inside and casually walked down the hall, smiling and nodding greetings to the residents, who were all lined up along the walls like a reception line at a wedding. When I arrived at the front desk the receptionist scanned my appearance, in silence.

“Harrumph,” I cleared my throat, then pasted a sunny smile on my face. “Would you kindly give me directions to Wildwood Point Road?” A glassy stare greeted my request. “It’s in Seneca—it can’t be that far—I just got a bit off course on my walk, this morning.” This time, she glowered, ducking her head to continue work. I was stunned. Didn’t she speak English? I stood at the desk, nervously shifting from foot to foot. After a minute, I tapped politely on the desk. “Pardon me, I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, but I need help.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “It ain’t around here—never heard of it.” Again, she went back to her work. Admittedly, I did look a mess, but surely, I didn’t deserve the treatment, I was receiving? All the residents were staring at me, too. With my grey hair standing in a frizzy mess, I wondered if they thought that I belonged amongst the group along the wall? Good grief, did I look that bad? With a grim look and firm voice, I asked, “May I at least borrow a phone, so I may call my friends?”

She rose and grimly assessed me, then turned and walked away. As she left, she said, “I’ll have to get a nurse.”

“Oh my, the phone must be a forbidden request,” I thought. Would she be returning with orderlies to restrain a lost Canadian? Perhaps I should leave? I half turned to go, when a large, imposing matron arrived.

 

Chapter Six

The nurse finally arrived and to the same question she replied “No, never heard of it.”

“Really? But it must be close, I walked from there this morning.”

“What county is it in,” she asked.

Good grief—did I walk right out of the county they lived in? I knew I felt tired. “The address is in Seneca—is that in this county? I’m visiting friends, but am from Canada, so I can’t give you any more details.” Shrugging, I pleaded with my eyes for a little understanding.

She assessed me for a moment, then said, “I’m not from around here, either. Sorry, I don’t know where that is.” Turning, she started to walk away.

I leaned forward, calling out, “Perhaps, I could borrow a telephone book, so I can look them up?”

Slowly, she turned back to me, hand fingering her chin. “Oh, bother, I’ll get the supervisor—you wait right here.” Her steely eyes glared at me, before she left the room.

Why did this require a supervisor?  I didn’t ask for a meal, or money and I hadn’t even asked to use the phone yet. I pasted my smile back in place and waited while this new person was fetched. When she arrived, she sternly told me that they don’t give out phone books! “I’m sorry, you must have misunderstood me, I just wanted to borrow the phone book to look up telephone number to call my friends.”

“Oh, we can’t do that,” she replied.

Surprised, I told my circumstances again. Surely this explanation would get me some help? Finally, after what seemed like a long time, she made the tough decision to make the phone call for me. I gave her the name of my friends. She scanned the phone book for their number and dialed. She wouldn’t let me have the phone—afraid, I guess that a desperate character like myself would run off with it, cord and all.

 

Chapter Seven

I could hear the phone ringing and a wave of relief fluttered over me.

After a moment she said, “it’s busy,” then hung up the phone and walked away.

“Can you try just one more time, please?” I called after her.

With a dramatic sigh, she agreed to try one last time. It rang this time—hurray. A smile lit my face as I anticipated the conversation.

The phone kept on ringing. Shrugging, she said, “Not home,” and began to hang up.

“Please leave a message—say, your friend Lynn is here and give your address?”

Raising her eyebrows, she spoke the words. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Thanking her, I walked quickly out of the facility—afraid that they really were going to keep me there. As I pushed open the door, I shuddered, then flopped into a rocking chair on the verandah. “Good grief, what an ordeal that was.” I slowly rocked, back and forth, trying to calm down—hoping that my friend Beth, got the message. Half an hour later, as I was just nodding off, my husband, Bob and our friend, John arrived. They exited the SUV and both stood, hands on hips, staring at me. I got up with a quizzical look on my face and walked over.

“We’ve been searching for you over an hour,” said Bob.

“But we never thought that you were out looking for a new residence,” quipped John, with a grin.

My face started to flush. “It was the only place I could find a phone.” I shuffled my feet.

“Why did you come so far away?” added Bob, nudging John.

“Okay, what’s the big deal. I simply went for a walk, it can’t really be that far from your home, John?”

“Well, I suppose if you were a gazelle—this place is ten miles from my house. In the next county.” replied John, eyebrows raised.

Bob nudged John and they grinned. “Also, we couldn’t help by notice how well you fit in—here at this home for the elderly. That rocking chair fits you, perfectly.”

“And if you stay in it, then you can’t get lost,” added John. Belly laughs filled the air.

With a crimson face, I got into the vehicle. Glad to be saved—if not quite so happy about the teasing. I knew, I was going to be mocked forever for my wandering ways. I shook my head—never again. Then grinned—well, maybe.