11 August 2000 ~ The little Virginia girl...

Tonight the air felt like Virginia.

I spent the evening with Nathan and Jo -- Nathan brought red wine (*smile*) and peaches from the Farmer's Market, and we watched "Boys on the Side" (yes, I cried), before taking a little journey to The Spot for wings.

And as we were leaving the Spot, I suddenly thought very suddenly and very unexpectedly, of Virginia...

I've only been there a few times -- only twice that I really remember, and both times the humidity was about a thousand percent and the sky was clear. I like Virginia. I could very easily live there, I think. I'd love to have a Virginia accent.

My family took a vacation to Florida in 1995. It was the obligatory DisneyWorld thing, I suppose. My dad drove us down there, and I have a few vague recollections of horrible weather and Seal's "Kiss From a Rose" being on every radio station. And my mom eating pecan logs at every rest stop. Once we were in Florida, five tropical storms -- and I'm not exaggerating in the least -- ganged up on Orlando, and ruined at least two or three days of our vacation. I also remember writing letters to Peter on this obscenely dorky pink paper, and eating grits in Georgia, just to be able to someday say, "I ate grits in Georgia."

But on the way down to Florida, we stopped for the night in Virginia.

It was maybe 9 or 10 at night. We'd been driving all day. We were hot, we were cramped up, we couldn't really take much more family togetherness, and if I'd heard that fucking Seal song one more time, I think I would have smashed something. So we decided to take a quick dip in the hotel pool in Virginia before turning in for the night.

I don't remember a LOT about that trip, but I could never forget that pool, how good the water felt, how refreshing it was... I'll never forget how the air felt, and how the moon looked and the chlorine smelled... It was absolutely beautiful; the kind of moment you'd love to share with someone OTHER than your immediate family.

There was a little girl in the pool with us. I think she had a little brother with her too, but I don't really remember. She was about 10, and immediately decided my brother Joseph, then 12, was the biggest stud on the planet. So she kept following me around asking me questions about how to get him to like her.

"So where are you from?" I asked. I believe she told me she was from North Carolina. "On vacation?" I asked.

"No," she told me. "We got evacuated from our house because of the hurricane..."

A hurricane was pounding up the coasts of the Carolinas at that point. I remember hearing a lot about it on the radio, in between Seal songs. It was apparently pretty bad.

You got... eVACuated?" I asked, sort of incredulously.

"Yes," she said. "My dad is still down there, but he's coming soon I think. We had to leave a lot of our stuff there. I hope our house is still there when we get back."

I didn't know what to say. The little girl seemed so non-chalant -- a little nervous, and a little displaced, but calm. Calm and mostly rational about the entire thing. I couldn't imagine having to leave my home and belongings because of a storm. I couldn't imagine leaving my home not knowing if I'd ever HAVE a home again.

Maybe it was just the pool that was soothing her. The night was entirely black, and the pool was a light, shimmery, lit-up blue. The little girl was blonde with the most beautiful accent I'd ever heard. She sort of fit in -- she looked like a pudgy baby mermaid. She was worried about her kitties in North Carolina. She was worried about her mom, because her mom was worried about her dad. But she was fine. And she was the sweetest, most innocent little creature in the whole universe.

I talked to her for a few minutes, and I told her to strike up a conversation with my brother, which she did. They actually got around to exchanging addresses and promising to be pen-pals, but I don't think they ever wrote each other.

I'm not sure quite what reminded me of that night and the little girl. Maybe it's the clear sky and the thousand-percent humidity in Binghamton tonight. Maybe it was just the wine making me a little overtired. I know it's not really much of a story, but I knew I wouldn't be able to get it out of my mind until I wrote it down...

I have to go to bed now.

Love,
~Helena*

"Sometimes, when you don't have anyplace to go, it's best to stay right where you are." --Whoopie Goldberg, "Boys on the Side."