The Camper on the Eighty That Was Mine

Down the lane

So that afternoon on the porch, I did not argue. I did not call Bill Dunn, and I did not call the pastor, and I did not call my sister in Lenox.

I had already done my deciding, months before, at Ann’s kitchen table.

I set my purse on top of the first suitcase.

I pulled up both handles and tipped them onto their wheels, one in each hand, the way they show you in the airport on television.

“Where are you going?” Darrin asked. He sounded surprised, as though he had expected me to cry, or to call somebody, or to go up to my room and not come down.

“Home,” I said.

He took one step toward me. “Marlene, I didn’t mean today. I meant by the first of the month. I can drive you to town. Crystal’s got a list of apartments in Corning and Red Oak.”

“I know you meant it kindly enough,” I said. “But those are packed now, and so am I. I’ll be fine, Darrin. You don’t need to drive me anywhere.”

The lane is a quarter mile of gravel with grass up the middle. Those little suitcase wheels did not care for it one bit.

One of them lost its rubber about halfway down, and from there it clattered along like a shopping cart.

I did not look back. I want you to know that was not pride.

It was that I knew if I looked back at that house, with the hens on the curtains and Harlan’s chair by the window, I would sit down in the lane and not get up.

The key to the camper was where Harlan always left it, on top of the back tire under the fender.

I opened it up. It smelled like cold air and old coffee and a little bit like him, which I had not expected.

I checked the propane. The two bottles on the front were half full. I lit the furnace, and it caught on the second try.

I made the bed with the sheets from the overhead cupboard, and then I sat down at the little fold-down table.

That was when I cried. Not long. Maybe ten minutes.

Then I washed my face at the little sink, made a list on the back of an envelope, walked back up the lane for my car while they were all in the house, and drove into Corning before the hardware store closed for the night.