“We went topless the whole way,” Kailamai said.
Nicole shook her head. “The car top was down,” she said. “Which is why I look like I did my hair in a wind tunnel.”
I shrugged off my pack and hugged the women.
“The weather is so nice here,” Nicole said. “I can’t believe it’s December.”
“It’s like twenty degrees in Spokane,” Kailamai said. “I think I’m moving here after school.”
“How far have you walked today?” Nicole asked.
“About fourteen miles,” I said.
“Where will you be stopping for the day?”
“In about six more miles. Saddlebunch Keys.”
Nicole processed the information. “Okay, we’ll go on to Key West and check into our hotel, then I’ll book a restaurant in Saddle . . . back . . .”
“Saddlebunch,” I said.
“Saddlebunch,” she repeated. “That’s an odd name. Anyway, I’ll make reservations and we’ll have dinner together. How long will it take you to get there?”
“Maybe an hour and a half,” I said.
“Okay, we’ll hurry.” She hugged me again. “It’s so good to see you. We’re so excited for you.”
“Yeah, you’re the man,” Kailamai said. “The walking man.”
I waved at them, watched their car disappear, then picked up my pack and trudged on after them.
Nicole called me an hour later. “We’re checked in,” she said. “We’re staying at the beachside Marriott. It’s not even fifty yards from the entrance to Key West. The clerk helped me make reservations at a restaurant called Kaya Island Eats. I said we’d be there at six fifteen.”
“About forty-five minutes,” I said, looking at my watch. “That’s good. I’m about a half hour from Saddlebunch Keys right now. Where’s the restaurant?”
“It’s on the highway, so you’ll pass right by it. But we’ll wait out front for you. Kailamai and I are headed there right now.”
“I’ll see you there,” I said.
I put my phone back in my pocket. It took me about forty minutes to reach the restaurant. As I approached I could see Nicole standing alone out front, next to the Mustang.
“Where’s Kailamai?” I asked.
“She’s inside. They seated us a little early.”
“Can I put my pack in the car?”
“Of course.” I stored my pack in the trunk, and we went inside. Our table was next to a large window and had a beautiful view of the Gulf of Mexico. Kailamai was holding a drink with a pink umbrella.
“What are you drinking?” Nicole asked.
“Piña colada,” Kailamai said. “Don’t worry. It’s virgin.”
“It better be.”
Kailamai smiled at me. “How was your walk?”
“You mean from Seattle or from Sugarloaf Key?”
“Both.”
“Long,” I said. I pulled out Nicole’s chair, and she sat down. Then I sat between the ladies.
“I bet you’re hungry,” Nicole said.
“Famished.” I looked over the menu. The selections were as colorful as the restaurant. I ordered the Chicken Cherryaki, chicken covered with teriyaki sauce and black cherry preserves, and Scott’s Tomato Salad with Mozzarella and Mascarpone. Kailamai ordered the Jamaican Jerk Wings with goat cheese, and Nicole had the No Worries Shrimp Curry, glazed shrimp with coconut red curry sauce.
Nicole also ordered a bottle of wine. The wine list was the most interesting I’d ever seen, and she ended up selecting a bottle called Hey Mambo Kinky Pink Rosé, which claimed to taste like strawberries, soft plums, and apricots.
She poured the wine, then lifted her glass to me. “We should toast the completion of your walk.”
“It’s too soon,” I said.
“It ain’t over until the fat lady crosses the finish line,” Kailamai said.
Nicole grinned. “I think you said that wrong.”
“I saw this YouTube video of a bike race. About fifty feet before the finish line the guy who’s in first place raises his hands to celebrate his victory, but his tire hits something and he crashes. By the time he gets going again, the second- and third-place guys have crossed the finish line.”
“I get it,” Nicole said. “No premature celebrating. Then what should we toast?”
“How about the two of you being here with me?” I said.
“That works,” she said. “To being together.”
“And the sun,” Kailamai added. “It’s pretty nice too.”
“And the sun,” I said.
We clinked each other’s glasses. The wine was as fruity as promised. Nicole’s phone rang, and she checked to see who was calling. “I need to take this,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
I looked at Kailamai. “Sounds important.”
Kailamai just shrugged, then asked, “What time will you reach Key West tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure. Probably around noon. When our waitress returns I’ll ask exactly how many miles we are from Key West.”
It was about five minutes before Nicole returned. “Sorry about that,” she said, sliding into her seat.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Everything’s fine,” she said, smiling.
Our waitress came over to the table with our food. She set down our plates, then asked, “Does everything look all right?”
“Everything looks beautiful,” Nicole said.
“Great. Anything else?”
“I have a question,” I said. “About how far are we from Key West?”
“Not far,” she said. “It’s just down the road. About twenty minutes.”
“He means walking,” Kailamai said.
She looked back at me. “No, it’s too far to walk. I could call you a taxi.”
Nicole said, “He just walked all the way here from Seattle.”
She looked back at me. “Across the country?”
I nodded.
“In that case, it’s really close. Maybe eleven miles.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She walked away.
“How long will that take you?” Nicole asked.
“A little less than three hours. I’ll probably start a little later.”
“So, depending on when you leave, you’ll reach Key West by early afternoon.”
I nodded. “That’s about right.”
“I still can’t believe you’re really here,” Kailamai said. “Do you remember our first day walking together? I had never even heard of Key West. I asked you if you knew how to get there.”
I smiled. “Yes. That was right before you asked me if I believed in aliens.”
“You remember that?”
“How could I forget? You had a theory that aliens are really just humans in the future, so they aren’t traveling in spaceships but time machines.”
“I can’t believe your memory,” Kailamai said. “You’ve got to admit it makes sense.”
“I remember the first time I saw you,” Nicole said. “I was just outside Waterville with a flat tire.”
“You had lost your lug nuts,” I said.
She grinned. “That sounds rude.”
I laughed. “Then you told me that you didn’t need any help because your husband was on his way.”
“What was I supposed to say? I was completely alone when this long-haired, unshaven stranger shows up out of nowhere . . . even though you were pretty gorgeous.”
“I’m glad you got that flat,” I said.
Nicole’s countenance turned more serious. “Thank God for flat tires.”
“Sometimes life is like that,” Kailamai said. “Things that seem bad at the time are really blessings.”
Nicole took another sip of wine. “Sometimes.”
The food was delicious, and after our main course we shared a piece of key lime pie, the first I’d had since reaching the keys. I wasn’t used to taking so much time to eat, and it was dark outside when we finished. I asked the restaurant’s hostess where I could fi
nd the nearest hotel. She replied, “Key West.”
“Why don’t we just drive to Key West and you can stay at the Marriott with us?” Nicole said. “Then I could just bring you back in the morning.”
“You can’t do that,” Kailamai said. “That would be anticlimactic.”
“She’s right,” I said. “It’s okay. I passed a camping area about a mile back. I can do one last night in my tent.”
“Can we at least drive you there?” Nicole asked.
“Of course.”
I got in the car with them, and we drove back along the highway to where I had seen the camping area. It was on the beach, and the only amenities were a crude, single-pipe shower and concrete fire pits. We set up my tent using the car’s lights to illuminate the grounds.
“Remember the night we met?” Kailamai said. “It’s hard to believe that we slept together in this very tent.”
“You were trusting,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said. “You’d just saved me from being raped.”
“Do you still pray?” I asked.
“Every night. Except now I spend more time thanking God for what I have than asking for what I don’t.”
“You’ve always been that way,” I said. “That’s what I like most about you.”
“I thought it was my jokes,” she replied.
After we had finished setting up the tent, we gathered some wood, then lit a fire and sat around it, the orange, lapping flames illuminating our faces. The sky was a brilliant blue velvet with sequin stars.
“This is living,” Kailamai said. “You’re lucky that you’ve gotten to do so much of this.”
“It’s better with friends,” I replied.
We sat around the fire and talked for nearly an hour. Finally Nicole said, “It’s late; we better let you get some sleep. Kailamai, would you wait in the car for a minute while I talk to Alan?”
She glanced back and forth between us, then stood. “Sure. Good night, Alan.”
“Good night,” I said.
“See you in Key West.” She walked back to the car and got inside.
I turned to Nicole. “You wanted to talk?”
She looked at me with a concerned expression. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’ve just been worried about you. I don’t know what you thought would happen when you finally reached Key West . . . After all this way, I just don’t want you to . . .”
“Get my hopes too high?” I said.
“Maybe,” she said. “You don’t need to know all the answers right now. You know that, right?”
I thought about her question, then said, “Yes, I think so.”
“I wouldn’t be alive right now if you hadn’t decided to walk,” she said. “In the end, if all that comes from your walk is saving Kailamai and me, I hope that won’t be too disappointing. For us, it means everything.” She took my hand. “I’m sure that McKale is very proud of you. And so am I.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “Whatever happens tomorrow, remember that. And don’t lose hope. Things have a way of working out.” She smiled. “Good night, Alan.”
“Good night.”
“Call when you’re an hour out. We’ll be waiting for you at the WELCOME TO KEY WEST sign.”
She turned and walked to the car. I watched the taillights disappear. Then I sat down next to the dying fire thinking about what she had just said and wondering if I really believed it.
CHAPTER
Thirty-Seven
Last night I had a dream that I reached Key West. I walked all the way to the southernmost point of the island. When I stepped into the water it was as hard as concrete. So I just kept on walking.
Alan Christoffersen’s diary
I woke late the next morning with the sun turning the inside of my tent a brilliant gold. This is it, I thought. Let’s finish this. I rooted through my pack for breakfast but managed to find only a crushed box of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts, which I ate with a bottle of water.
Call it nerves, but I still wasn’t ready to go. There was no one else at the campsite, so I took off my clothes and waded out into the ocean. I sank to my chest in the crystal blue waters, riding the smooth rocking of the waves. My body had changed. I was lean and strong, a far cry from the shape I’d been in during my advertising days.
I had seen America as few ever would. I had walked thirty-five hundred miles through forests, swamps, and mountains, small towns with silly names and big towns with lonely people, apple, orange, and pecan orchards, corn and cotton fields. They say that before you die your life flashes before you, and in some ways that’s what I felt like then.
It was nearly noon when I rinsed myself off, dressed, and packed my tent. I strapped on my pack and started off for the last time.
The next twelve miles passed quickly. The traffic grew heavier. There wasn’t much to see along the way, or perhaps the scenery was just obscured by the density of my thoughts. It was nearly three o’clock when I spotted the sign.
At the entrance to Key West there is a grass island about the size of a small parade float separating the incoming and outgoing traffic. In the middle of the island is a large, colorful sign that reads:
WELCOME to
KEY WEST
PARADISE USA
The Rotary Club of Key West
About the same time I saw the sign I heard Kailamai screaming and saw her waving frantically. A few cars, caught up or confused by her excitement, honked their horns. Kailamai and Nicole were standing on the right shoulder of the road beneath a line of trees.
When I reached the sign I was filled with emotion. The women ran up to me. I shrugged off my pack and embraced them. Nicole began crying. “You did it! You made it to Key West!”
I took a deep breath and let the moment sink in.
“Let’s party!” Kailamai said.
“I’m not done yet,” I said.
She looked at me quizzically. “What?”
“My goal was to walk as far from Seattle as I could. I’m not there yet. I need to walk to the southernmost tip.”
“That bites,” Kailamai said.
“May we walk with you?” Nicole asked.
“I’d like that,” I said. “But I need to get some lunch. Have you eaten?”
“Just an hour ago,” Nicole said. “But that’s okay, we’ll watch you eat.”
We were standing right next to a restaurant, the Tavern N’ Town, but they weren’t open for lunch, so I put my pack in the trunk of Nicole’s car and we walked around the back of the Marriott hotel to the poolside bar—the Blue Bar. I ordered drinks and a fruit plate for the women and a bowl of conch chowder and a prime rib panini with coleslaw for me.
“How was your hotel?” I asked Kailamai.
“Good,” she said. “How was your tent?”
“You know, room service was lacking. But I think I might miss it.”
Suddenly she started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Check out that sign.”
Mounted next to me on the wall was a picture of a chicken standing in the middle of a highway. Written in the sky above the chicken were the words
I dream of a day when a chicken can cross the road without having its motives questioned.
Nicole and I laughed as well.
“I have one,” Kailamai said. “Why did Alan cross the country?”
I looked at her and smiled. “To get to the other side.”
The real answer would take me years to completely understand.
While we ate, Kailamai did most of the talking, filling us in on her classes, her teachers, and every detail she could remember about Matt, the boy she was dating—he was a Libra, spoke German, and came from Butte, Montana, which she decided must be some kind of a sign, as that was where I had first connected Kailamai and Nicole.
Kailamai rambled on like a radio talk-show host, and the truth is I heard only half of what she was sayi
ng. My mind was elsewhere. I could tell that Nicole understood where I was at. She just silently watched me, occasionally interjecting with Kailamai when I didn’t respond to something.
After an hour I paid the bill, then stood. “Let’s go,” I said. We walked to the front of the hotel. “I need to get my pack.”
“Why don’t you just leave it in the car?” Nicole asked.
“It came with me this far, I think it should finish the ride.”
We walked back to the parking lot. Nicole popped the Mustang’s trunk, and I lifted out my pack.
“How far is it?” Kailamai asked.
“Maybe four miles,” I said.
“Four miles,” she said. “That far?”
“I’ve sleepwalked farther than that,” I said.
“Now you’re just showing off,” she replied.
We walked west across the Marriott’s parking lot, then out along the northern split of Highway 1. To our right was the gulf and the lapping water on the shore. In many places the water was thick with mangrove trees.
There are a lot of cyclists in Key West. Most of the bikes looked like antiques, recycled, rebuilt, and resurrected over and over again. I’m sure Hemingway’s bicycle is still in rotation out there somewhere.
The cyclists weren’t especially attentive to us in spite of the many signs warning cyclists to yield to pedestrians.
We walked past seven hotels the first mile, two of which were closed for renovations.
“Check these out,” Kailamai said. She lifted a pair of men’s shorts off the sidewalk. “Someone lost their shorts.”
“Don’t touch them,” Nicole said.
“It’s Key West,” I said, which seemed explanation enough.
In the second mile we passed two white herons standing on the bank. They were beautiful birds, and for a moment we all just looked at them. Then Nicole said, “The white heron symbolizes peace.” She turned to me. “It’s a good sign.”
The herons weren’t the only birds we saw. There were wild roosters and chickens everywhere.
“What’s with all the chickens?” Nicole asked.
“They’re protected,” Kailamai said. “There’s a five-hundred-dollar fine for harassing them.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.