That was approximately the same moment that Jaime chose to mention the fork which I would come to only twenty minutes after leaving the state highway. I braked to a stop a few feet in front of the antique arrow at the crux of the two roads. The arrow pointed up the left branch, but I was fairly sure Jaime had warned me to take the right. Rotating the wheel to the right, I caught a glimpse of modern day America in a pile of discarded wrappers and gleaming Pepsi cans and used condoms left for dead on the patchwork blacktop; they led up the left branch. I stopped the car. How sure was I that Jaime had said to go right? What the hell had she said?

“You know that road you take off of … exit 112, I think? Leading towards Troy?

…Delavan, you say? I’m going north o’ there—be goin’ right through it

…It’s kind of rough – blacktop, I think

…We can throw your bags in the sleeper if ya’d like

…That’s the fork you wanna take; the other one leads to

…Anywhere’d be fine with me

…You got it?”

I mentally kicked myself for not having her repeat the directions. I shut off the engine, conscious and relieved of the fact that the rough blacktop was mine and mine alone this beautiful afternoon with the sun throwing dancing shadows through the summer leaves onto the ground. I rewound the roadside café conversation several times while smoking a joint under the canopy of trees and greenery. Each rewind proved fruitless; Jaime’s directions were lost now, and I feared I would be too, very soon. I leaned back against the outside of my VW, enjoying the heat of the afternoon. The joint burned quick, replacing the slight ache in my brain with a fuzzy sort of happy buzzing.

Being so desolate and miles from the highway, my road was filled with a cacophony of very unhuman sounds emanating from the nearby wooded area. Evidently the birds had called a forest-wide town hall meeting – the chirps and flutters and singing very nearly drowned out my own brand-new tape deck cacophony. Very nearly, but not quite … Jerry crooned, “So many roads I know/All I want is one to take me home.” As the guitars came in, I felt a tear begin to form. Coming up on the anniversary, right? Hell, right around the corner. I leaned into the open driver-side door as the tear finally found its way down my dusty cheek. “So many roads to ease my soul.” I reached inside the bag between the two front seats and pulled out my water bottle. The weather was my kind of perfect, but nonetheless I could feel the beginnings of heat dehydration. I popped the top and swung it upside down over my upturned face; the refreshing water poured out, into, on and around my gaping mouth. Unconcerned with making a mess, I barely passed the bandana over my face to sop up the excess water.

I leaned back in to return the bottle to my bag when my hand came across a tiny bottle. As I pulled it out, I recalled my sister, Fisher’s words and sly smile as she wished me luck and happiness along the way. “Don’t worry about getting lost – the bubbles will lead the way and you’ll be fine.” She hugged me and that was all.

With my own sly smile, I pulled out the tiny orange bottle of bubbles and unscrewed the cap. I extracted the wand from its glycerin pool, held it up to my mouth and began to blow. The first batch of bubbles came out tiny and pathetic, popping mere seconds in the air; however, I continued to dip and blow, dip and blow. After a few attempts, I was blowing a steady stream of good-sized bubbles and laughing as if I’d not yet tasted adulthood and responsibility. In only a few minutes, I was roaring with laughter and immersed in a time long ago. My memories of being a child were happy ones, and these beautiful bubbles with their magical colors and aimless wander took me back to those wonderful, playful times of summer vacations and pint-sized worries. It might also have been the weed, but whatever the cause, I was having a grand ol’ time of it …I felt beautiful.

After a few moments, I began to realize that the bubbles in their aimless wander were forming distinct patterns and actually looked to have aim of a sort. They were slowly but surely leading each other up the right branch of the road. My smile fell, my eyes did a double-take and my mind expanded. I replaced the cap on the bubble bottle, set it carefully in my bag, lowered myself into the driver’s seat and started the car. I reached over to my tape deck and raised the volume considerably as the next song began. It was “The Golden Road to Unlimited Devotion”. I found my smile again and began to sing along as I turned right.