Gone. Poof.

August 27, 2011

Part One.

We left Portland last night. I should be writing, “we left Portland yesterday afternoon” but alas! Not many will be surprised that Mary made a blunder, yeah? You see, this is how it happened. Friday night Brandon and I switched cars so while he was working yesterday, I could prep the car. I was doing well too. The bags were in, the cooler was filled, and I was at Fred Meyer doing some last minute things for the trip. It was 1:51pm – nine minutes before we were set to leave.

Upon reaching the car I went digging through my purse for the keys. His keys. His keys to his car. The car we were taking. And they weren’t there. Gone. Poof. I checked every pocket of my purse, my shorts, one, two, three times. I hadn’t eaten all day but I was certain if there was anything in there, it would have ended up all over the pavement. I rushed back inside to retrace my steps, fairly certain I’d left the sitting on top of the ATM inside on the other side of the store. The whole run there I was repeating “there are more good people in the world than bad people. There are more good than bad.” 

Right?

They weren’t there. Not on top. Not beside. Not behind. Gone. Poof. Then the panic set in. My dad happened to be at the Starbucks in the same parking lot and what do I want when I’m in a panic? My dad.  So, with my dad in tow, we retraced my steps again. And nothing. The customer service desk hadn’t seen any keys, the self-check hadn’t. The bag boys, the cart boys, the deli, random people walking in and out. Gone. Poof. Brandon had to be called. In tears, I dialed. Strangely, the thing I was most worried about was his reaction being “God Damn it, Mary.” A term that can make me cry no matter, and as I was already blubbering I figured I could very well end up in the fetal position on the floor if he said it. Pathetic.

“Brandon. Do you have an extra set of keys.”

“Uhm. No. Oh my God. Really?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously Mary? Jeez.” (Hey, it was better than the term)

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t cry. It’s all right. I’ll call AAA. Be there in a second.”

“O.K.”

The wait seemed long for AAA Man. Brandon arrived and my dad left. We went back inside in search of the elusive keys. Then we hear, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” We turned to see a little girl running towards us. “Did you own that tiny white car outside?” (my car)

“Yes, why?”

“Here’s your keys.” And for a second I thought she’d hand Brandon’s keys over. But Brandon held out his hands and she dropped my car keys in his palm. Through my tears, I laughed. “They were sitting on top of your car.”

When AAA Man arrived it took a matter of seconds for him to open the car. I hoped that somehow they’d been left in the trunk. He popped the trunk and I waited a second before opening it. 3-2-1.  Open. Nothing. Then I heard what I was worried about. “It’ll be $225 for a new key.” Insides turning, I went back inside. I was going to find these keys. I asked more people, had them make an announcement. My dad had returned and texted me that AAA Man couldn’t wait forever, that they were making the key, and that he was paying for it.

Two hours later we were sitting in the back of my dads truck when AAA Man finally said “Done!” It was 5:30.  “AAA covered $100 of the cost,” he said. Delightful! My dad handed his card over, and the man handed the keys (we got two) over. Thank you dad!

We left Milwaukie at 6:00pm. Four hours later than our original time. We drove for eight hours before finally stopping in a small town in Idaho to sleep.  Had we left at 2:00pm, we would have already made it to Missoula.

God Damn it,

Mary.

 Called for back-up.