I was hanging out in the Midwest late this week and I woke up Thursday morning in Kansas City and got on the road early for the drive to Iowa.
It's a three hour plus drive, but I got on the road about 7...which makes it 8 back home.
A little early for the start of Camp Clifford activities, but the head counselor with the healing knee had to be in the middle of coffee hour.
I dropped a text:
"Good morning, how's the knee?"
Mile after mile of corn.
60 or so miles passed. I stopped at a rest stop.
"You there?" I texted.
Back in the car.
Another hour passed.
I tried to ring her...straight to voice mail.
Your mind wanders to crazy scenarios.
A couple of the campers should be rising soon:
I texted them.
"Anyone up? I'm looking for Mom."
I arrived at the site and got ready for the meeting.
The meeting started.
My phone beeped.
"I'm here, I'll look," one of the campers sent back.
A minute later my phone rang.
"I'm alive," Kathy said. "Drinking coffee, resting the knee. Watching a crime drama."
"How, in 2016, are you the only person in America who is not reachable for hours on end?"
"I left my phone upstairs," she said.
"And evidently you didn't think of me once in three hours," I said.
"Oh, I haven't stopped thinking of you," she said. "We're all so sad. It's been a crying festival here since you left!"
"I gotta' go," I said.
"No! Please don't go!!" She answered.
I'm thinking of getting her a collar with a zapper on it. The phone rings and she gets a little jolt of electricity.
Maybe then I can reach her.
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