The traveling notebook

Today was the same as every Tuesday. Rachel switched on her lamp at 5:30 am and staggered across the room to silence the siren blaring from her phone. She had already been laying there for an hour so that incessant barking from her phone was unnecessary. It was still dark outside and she saw her outfit laid out in the light of the lamp. All black. She put her hair in braids to avoid another customer complaint about a strand of long blonde hair in their food. It had been falling out ever since she quit taking birth control pills when her relationship ended. Hormones.

Rachel had tried the dating apps but they just made her feel more lonely. It was rare to have a real connection with someone, and now that she was 29, the idea of a fling sounded exhausting.

Her first customer came in one minute after she switched on the open sign and he was still blinking his eyes awake. She needed to constantly remind herself that most people coming in at this hour had just woken up. Radiohead quietly played from the speakers, a more soothing option than the electronic music she had been listening to while getting the store ready to open.

An Americano with a splash of hemp milk. He had it every morning. At this point he just walked in, put his money on the counter while she got his drink ready, and they didn’t exchange words about it. Sometimes they would make small talk if he was awake enough.

Her next customer was worthy of going in the notebook. Someone she had never seen before, but that she was sure would return. When the man with the Britney Spears t-shirt left, she pulled her notebook out of the backroom. The color of this month’s notebook was black. She had shoeboxes full of them, all different colors, all moleskin, and this one was nearly full and ready to join the collection. She quickly wrote the person down in her book noting their name, their character, and what was special about them. In the past, it would’ve taken her weeks to finally remember this man’s name, but now she would know tomorrow morning, and she could properly greet him. That is what kept people coming back to the Coffee Shop. Life felt less lonely when your local barista knows your name, what you do, and exactly how you like your coffee. Rachel’s co-worker would say, “Do you remember that one guy that would come in? Long brown hair? Always ordered the coconut latte with honey?”

Ever since she started noting people she would remember right away.

“Oh ya, Michael?”

“Ya!”

“Ya?”

“He is getting a divorce.”

“Oh no! He and his wife were so cute together though!”

Her co-worker knew all the gossip in the neighborhood. When he had something really good he would ask you to come into the back, shuffling from foot to foot with excitement. The information bursting from him. Their job was very social, and after work, she just wanted to crash on the couch and enjoy the silence. Her mother was calling, but Rachel let it go to voicemail. She was calling again. Voicemail. Two text messages, ‘Rachel call me.’

‘Now!’

Rachel’s heart started racing. She called her mom back dreading bad news. It was either an emergency or someone died.

It was. “Your Grandad passed away last night.”

Her heart was still pounding, but after a few deep breaths, it slowed. She was relieved it wasn’t her brother she was getting bad news about. Although she loved her Grandad, she wasn’t particularly close with him. He lived in England and she lived in Oregon. A country and an ocean between them meant she had only interacted with him briefly when he visited, and occasionally when he called on her birthdays or Christmas.

“You working hard?” He would always ask.

“Yes, non-stop.” She would always tell him what he wanted to hear. She also wanted to get the $20 he would send on her birthdays.

“Good good,” he always responded. Then he would ask to speak to her mother. He made Rachel call him ‘Grandad’ instead of ‘Grandpa.’ He said that ‘Grandpa’ made him feel old.

The few times he visited he commented about how Rachel’s mother had taken her away from him, “She took you away from us!” Rachel’s mother was always on the defense in those moments. It was her husband’s job that took her away, and the promise for a better life.

Rachel could hear in the silence her mom was choking on tears. “We are all going to England for the funeral. You need to take off work.“ It was a command, not a question.

The furthest Rachel had been from Oregon was Hawaii. She wasn’t particularly sad about her Grandad, but she knew she had to be there for her mother.

“Of course, Mom.”

_____________

The hardest part of flying was the concept that you were in a metal tin that magically flew thousands of feet from the ground. Rachel quickly picked a movie to start so she could distract herself from the fact. She was sitting next to her mother who had been very quiet all day.

Rachel felt that traveling just involved a lot of waiting. After you were all packed and ready you waited to leave, then when you arrived you waited in security, then wait at the gate, wait to take-off, then wait to arrive, then wait at border control, then wait for a train, then wait for a taxi, then wait for the shower to be free, then wait for dinner, then wait to go to bed. After all that, she had only recorded 2 new people in her notebook.

1. The person sitting in the aisle seat next to mom. She told us her life story even though no one asked. From California, name is Margi, and life mission is to have high tea in London and see the queen. One of those people obsessed with the royals.

2. The stewardess. Her name is Haley, and her hair was in a beehive updo. She sounded like she was from Minnesota, and she gave me an extra cookie when I was walking back to my seat from the restroom. “There ya gooo!” I love that accent. The enthusiasm and warmth of it.

Rachel’s eyes flickered open and shut on the drive from the airport to her uncle’s house. During quick glances, she noticed that all the houses looked the same, lots of brick and short. She couldn’t imagine how anyone over 6’3 could walk under the doorways without bending down.

The next day was the funeral. She was hoping her Grandad would bring the sunshine out. When her friend passed away years ago the day of the funeral was bright and sunny. Rare on a January day. Instead, it was pouring rain.

Her uncle came from behind and held her elbow, “Need to speak with you.”

She followed him into the dining room where an envelope sat on the table with her name on it. “He’s left you this.” He passes her the envelope which looks to have already been tampered with. She starts reading the letter as her uncle watches her. “One of his little tricks,” he says with an annoyed grunt.

“His tricks?”

“He’s sending you on an adventure. Doubt you have the time to go too. Typical of him.”

Rachel wasn’t sure what to say because she clearly didn’t share the resentment her Uncle had for her Grandpa, oops, Grandad.

My darling Rachel,

I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with you in this life. You have a beautiful heart. A big softy, you always needed a cuddle. I want you to meet up with my sister, Janet, in Bathe. I recommend traveling alone. You’ll observe more. I have money waiting for you there, with her.

Here is $300 to help you get there.

Your Grandad

Xoxoxo

Her Great-Aunt Janet couldn’t travel to the funeral because of her health. She was 95 after all. After her mother's blessing, and her uncle showing her the bus timetable, Rachel set out for Bathe. Alone. It was the first time she had gone anywhere by herself.

When the bus arrived in Bathe she had to make her way to the address she had scribbled on a piece of paper. Thank god for google maps. As she was approaching the house it wasn’t necessary to look through the house numbers because an elderly woman was standing out on the sidewalk wearing a blue hat and cream gloves holding a sign with “Rachel” written on it. Rachel had never spoken to her great-aunt before, but she instantly felt safe. Although this woman was technically a complete stranger, Rachel felt she was home.

“Your grandad would’ve been thrilled you are here. It’s his favorite town in England.”

Rachel smiled, “I didn’t know him well.”

“He knew you.”

Rachel disagreed. If he knew her, he would know how uncomfortable it was to get on a plane, to be in this new country, to be alone on a bus going to a new town to meet a woman she didn’t know.

Her great aunt’s house was a two-story brick building atop a hill that had a view of the town center. When she walked into the living room she noted that it lacked energy and smelled of wet dog. An old dachshund hobbled through the dark letting out a raspy bark. “Shush Maxwell!” The dog made a beeline for its bed and collapsed onto it with no further investigation.

“What are those?” Rachel pointed to the corner of the room.

“Your Grandfather’s notebooks. He writes details he doesn’t want to forget. I always thought it was a bit weird. I got all his belongings after he passed.”

Rachel walked over to them. All different sizes and colors, just like hers.

“May I?”

She turned to her great-aunt who was watching her. “Go ahead. I peak in them all the time. Bit entertaining actually.”

Lyon, France

Frederique. Blonde short hair, high pitched laugh. We talked about Paris, and how stuck-up people are there. Although they are in Lyon too, I didn’t tell her that.

Christophe. Brown curly hair… wore purple pants. Insisted I try the Bucheron cheese, and indeed it changed my life.

The notebooks were full of all the characters of his life. His memories from all the places he had been with different titles of towns throughout Europe. Rachel suddenly felt her notebooks were very boring. Her characters were limited to the customers that came into the coffee shop where she worked. She suddenly felt more connected to her Grandad and wished she had known him better. She always assumed he was uptight, and wanted her to be a doctor or lawyer, but he seemed different now.

“Here is the letter he wanted to give you.” Janet held out the envelope to Rachel.

My darling Rachel,

You are meant for so much more than you know. You need to leave behind fear to live. In my death I want you to live. Here is some money. Adventure. Take in all you see from others, it is the fastest way to learn.

I love you always,

Grandad.

She was crying before she even found the check for $20,000.

“Where was my Grandad’s favorite place in Europe?”

Her aunt’s lips curled up revealing a face that had a lifetime of laughs,

“Seville, Spain.” She picked up one of the notebooks from the pile and handed it to Rachel, “Take this with you.”