I finally grabbed my coat and my keys and a couple bucks, jammed my headphones in my ears, got in the truck and decided on coffee.
I hit a good streak of tunes through the drive-thru and so, coffee in hand and head nodding, I decided to take the airport loop downtown, where I was to meet a bud.
The streak continued and so, instead of turning right, into town, I took a left, off to the Ingraham Trail, thinking maybe I'd just drive out past Giant Mine and to the Yellowknife River and then turn around. I was really feeling the music -- some old, nostalgic Tripping Daisy.
And so when I got to the river, I just kept going, because I didn't want the feeling to end. It was nice just enjoying the moment, you know? No thoughts, really. Just things passing by the window, which would trigger spasms of nostalgia or stimulate old pictures and people and events.
I swung around corners -- the same ones I saw from 10,000 feet on my way out of Yellowknife this summer, which was the first time I'd seen the Ingraham Trail from above, which I found shockingly trivial watching it sprawl randomly through the mass of trees below -- and took in the sights, days before snow would surely cover all of it up for half a year. And I got to the Dettah turnoff and said, "What the hell. Why not?"
I hadn't been to Dettah in probably 20 years -- outside of ice road endeavors in winter. So I took the 18km road slow, and just prayed that the road would never end and I'd be able to keep driving and the moment.
Cars would come up from behind and coax me to drive faster, and I would oblige because I am a societal product -- afraid to seem like a Sunday driver to a perfect stranger, you know...
Eventually, I found Dettah. And I drove around a bit, watching the late-fall wind blow whitecaps up on the lake, from the tip of Yellowknife Bay. I looked out at the great lake for a long while.
Turned the beast around, and drove past an old ball park, which I remembered being gigantic as a 5 year old kid, now a tiny, rundown relic -- maybe as your brain grows in dimension with age, it shrinks things from your smaller, kid memory storage device? Was that park actually bigger when I was a kid, because I was smaller?
Turning onto the road out, I looked forward to the long drive home. My buddy called.
I say I'm in Dettah.
"You're in Dettah?"
I say I'm on my way back into town.
Then, out of NOWHERE, this old lady, decked out in the traditional purple skirt, stockings, black shoes, pink hood, purple coat, babooshka regalia, throws her thumb out at the side of the road.
I stop without realizing. I tell my buddy I'll call him back. Before the vehicle is stopped, she is already on her way to the door. I unlock the door and she hops right in.
She's very old. Her face is creased all over. It looks like a flesh-coloured raisin with three holes in it.
"Town," she grunts, pulling a tissue out from her pocket, to wipe the tears that had welled up in her eyes to protect them from the howling winds.
"Town? Okay, no problem," I say, slightly uncomfortable now that my solitude-bubble has been burst.
Now I don't want to sound like an ass here, but I sort of pride myself on my ability to strike up a conversation with anyone, from any walk of life...
Not on Saturday.
"Cold out there, eh?"
Nothing
"Do your legs get cold wearing that?" pointing to her nearly bare legs, covered by thin leggings.
Barely an acknowledgement.
I was completely out of my element. I had no idea what to say. I offered her some of the peach drink I had. No reply.
I saw the back of the one kilometre sign into Dettah. On the way in, it had brought dread that the drive had ended. Now it had the same effect, but this time illustrating that this was just the start.
The long drive home now felt UNBEARABLY LONG. I didn't want the drive out to Dettah to ever end, now I couldn't wait to get into Yellowknife, with nothing but the radio murmuring on my blown, buzzing speakers.
I hit 90kph on that road heading back, when I barely nudged 55kph on the way out.
This elder had taught me all I needed to know about the theory of relativity.
I felt bad that I couldn't start up a conversation. I would look over at her strong hands patting away at her face. She stared out the window, no doubt assessing the changes in the land surrounding the road from Dettah to the city, and all that she had probably witnessed over her at least 75 years commuting between the two locales.
We drove over the river, through Giant, past the dump, and the ski lodge without once exchanging a hint of communication. Finally, we reached the reduced speed area outside the Legislative Assembly turn off and I asked, where do you want me to drop you off?
"Town," she said, almost annoyed that I didn't seem to understand the first time.
Okay, I smiled.
We got outside Extra Foods and I slowed down.
She turned to me and smiled. "Mahsi." She pulled her legs out the door.
"No problem. Take care. Stay warm." Who knows what else mindless small talk B.S.
I must have looked confused or weird or something.
Because once she was out, she said, "thank you," very slowly, to make sure I understood.
Yep.
And that was it. No look back, she was walking toward wherever it was she needed to go.
And I was off to... now where was I going again?
