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OOM: Visit to Toronto
Mar. 3rd, 2008 08:54 pmIt's been so long since she called her sister that she has to look up the number.
It's a wonder Kim doesn't decide it's a prank call and hang up, in the silence that stretches between "Hello?" and "It's Meg."
It's a very short conversation; Kim was right, this isn't the sort of thing you discuss over the phone.
It's an understatement to say that John and Deirdre Ford are surprised when Meghan announces she's like to go to Toronto on Saturday to see her older sister.
"I just need to talk to Kim," Meg says, and that's all she offers by way of explanation. She can tell they're trying to be pleased or hopeful, but are actually kind of worried. Still, early on Saturday morning, her father drives her to the station, kisses her cheek and tells her to have a good trip, and waves through the window as the train leaves.
Two years ago -- maybe even one year ago -- a trip to Toronto to see Kim would have been cause for excitement and celebration and Meg would have chatted about it with the conductor and the man with the snack trolley and the woman across the aisle, would have willed the train to go faster.
But today . . . today she's silent, except for a perfunctory exchange of greetings with the conductor when she hands over her ticket. She sits, and wonders when trains started going so fast, and the closer the train gets to Toronto, the more tense her shoulders get, tight and defensive, like she's expecting someone to hit her. And, despite the fact that she brought a book to read, she just watches out the window.
A landscape viewed from a train is a curious thing. You can get a good look at things only when they are far away. The things that are right up next to the tracks flash by too quickly, you're past them as soon as you've identified them, and if you try to focus on any one thing, you miss a dozen others.
But distance from a thing gives you time to see it. Perspective.
Of course, distance creates its own problems, too.
This may yet be a terrible idea.
Kim's directions are clear and precise, and Meghan has no trouble finding her way from the station to the cafe at which the sisters are meeting. She hesitates, though, before she squares her shoulders and pushes open the door, scanning the tables for that white hair she still has to consciously remind herself Kim has now.
It's a wonder Kim doesn't decide it's a prank call and hang up, in the silence that stretches between "Hello?" and "It's Meg."
It's a very short conversation; Kim was right, this isn't the sort of thing you discuss over the phone.
It's an understatement to say that John and Deirdre Ford are surprised when Meghan announces she's like to go to Toronto on Saturday to see her older sister.
"I just need to talk to Kim," Meg says, and that's all she offers by way of explanation. She can tell they're trying to be pleased or hopeful, but are actually kind of worried. Still, early on Saturday morning, her father drives her to the station, kisses her cheek and tells her to have a good trip, and waves through the window as the train leaves.
Two years ago -- maybe even one year ago -- a trip to Toronto to see Kim would have been cause for excitement and celebration and Meg would have chatted about it with the conductor and the man with the snack trolley and the woman across the aisle, would have willed the train to go faster.
But today . . . today she's silent, except for a perfunctory exchange of greetings with the conductor when she hands over her ticket. She sits, and wonders when trains started going so fast, and the closer the train gets to Toronto, the more tense her shoulders get, tight and defensive, like she's expecting someone to hit her. And, despite the fact that she brought a book to read, she just watches out the window.
A landscape viewed from a train is a curious thing. You can get a good look at things only when they are far away. The things that are right up next to the tracks flash by too quickly, you're past them as soon as you've identified them, and if you try to focus on any one thing, you miss a dozen others.
But distance from a thing gives you time to see it. Perspective.
Of course, distance creates its own problems, too.
This may yet be a terrible idea.
Kim's directions are clear and precise, and Meghan has no trouble finding her way from the station to the cafe at which the sisters are meeting. She hesitates, though, before she squares her shoulders and pushes open the door, scanning the tables for that white hair she still has to consciously remind herself Kim has now.
