Rounding the Corner

I could tell Winnie was really hungry. We were in Waynesboro, Georgia and rain was pouring down, and we were doing that thing you should never do on an alternate highway road trip through the South, which is waiting until you’re famished before simultaneously seeking the next highway junction and a place to eat that isn’t a chain. Win had passed by the oxymoronic Gourmet Cajun at my insistence and was circling round the square when I said, “Turn left up there.” Instead of doing what she normally does, which is to trust my navigation implicitly, she gave me a taciturn “WHY?” which came out a drawling, southern Whah?

I answered sulkily, “Cuz there’s not gonna be anyplace to eat down there, that’s whah.”

But I was wrong.

There was the Good Day Café, sitting right next to the barber shop (which had a real barber pole turning slowly). We found ourselves out on the pavement reading the café hours on a locked door, which were different for each day but mostly closing at 3:00. “What day is it?” Winnie asked me. I was sincerely stumped. I couldn’t even guess the time.

As we stood there contemplating these deep and philosophical questions, a young man in a chef’s shirt came to the door and invited us in. I said, “Well, if you’re closed …” but he insisted that they’d only locked the door because things had been slow. Soon we were eating an artichoke spinach panini (me) and a crab cake with remoulade sauce (Win) and grunting out little moans of pleasure. Win’s fruit salad was full of flavor, and the slaw that came with my panini had little sweet peas and tiny pieces of broccoli in it. Travis, the charming chef, talked nice and slow and made us both feel soothed. Our anthem “American Woman” started playing as we strolled out the front door. Between the café and the barber shop was an old lucky fortune scale and when I put my penny in I got a weight I won’t tell you and this fortune: “You are turning the corner of life. Watch your step.”

This had some weight because just that morning I’d pulled out the daily card and it said “Make a Choice. You will need resolve, nerve and willfulness. Life is just a series of trying to make up your mind.” We were freshly back on the road after a couple days’ respite on the Carolina coast. After striking out in Paris, SC we’d felt deflated and discussed heading west, but in the end, neither of us believed it was time yet. So even though the next Paris was located in Mississippi, we blasted through South Carolina on Route 21 to a campground on Hunting Island. As soon as I smelled the briny Atlantic I knew we’d made the right choice. I was literally stripping down to my bathing suit as I ran across the sand. It felt so good to be salty again.

The break from the road was a true illustration of the South Carolina motto: Friendly faces, beautiful places. For two days we camped among the mix of tall palm and pine trees, walking the beaches and frolicking in the waves. We had a raccoon bust into our cooler and steal a sub sandwich in the night. The next morning, a young buck strolled into our campsite and posed for photos. We violated the Cardinal Rule of Ya-Ya Road-tripping and hung out with a friendly family dominated by boys. We rented a p.o.s. surfboard and I taught the enthusiastic fellas how to surf. We picked up fresh-caught shrimp at a local shack and boiled it with coconut and carrots and bell peppers for dinner. On the last morning, after a tent-drenching downpour, we climbed the 175 steps to the top of the island’s historic lighthouse. “This is better than the Eiffel Tower,” Winnie sighed, looking out at the vast Atlantic.

Almost every day of the journey we’ve had occasion to quote the line “Forward ever, backward never.” There on an island on the edge of America we longed for a way to keep going. The pull was magnetic, irresistible. We hadn’t shot anyone or robbed any convenience stores, but we both understood for the first time ever why Thelma and Louise drove off that cliff. Even our comparatively ordinary, happy lives have corners we’re not exactly jumping at the opportunity to turn. But when you pause to think about it, the only way to keep on going is to keep on rounding corners and watching your step.

Faced with that choice and feeling full again, we turned that corner and headed west.