Road Trip Read online

  We're supposed to make Salem by dinnertime tonight. And we're performing at the state fair the following evening. So we'll have two nights in one town. Unless we're driving a long distance-pulling an all-nighter—we usually stop at a hotel every night. There we have the option of either sleeping in the RV or getting rooms. Kost of the time I opt for the RV, since all my stuff is already in here and I hate having to drag it all out.

  Elise, Allie, and Davie usually get a hotel room together, while Laura and I stake out the RV with Rosy as our chaperone. And if Laura and I had any ideas about sneaking out or doing anything stupid—which we really don't—Rosy, who's almost six feet tall and pretty hefty, could easily stop us.

  Sometimes Allie hangs out in the RV with us at night. But she really doesn't like having to share the little bathroom. But I think the RV is kind of homey and comfortable and lots better than a boring old hotel room.

  Although I'll admit it can get pretty cramped when Rosy is driving an all-nighter and all five of us are forced to sleep in here. Still, it's doable. On those nights, two of us girls share the big bed—usually Laura and me. Then there are two pull-down bunks (for Allie and Davie) and a couch that makes into a bed, which Elise sleeps on. I suppose it's not ideal, but it works. And I usually sleep like a log.

  I feel bad for Laura today. I had no idea she was so tired and worried about things. I'll need to remind myself to pray for her more.

  GOD'S LULLABY

  blow Your breath upon her

  as You hold her in Your hand

  wrap her in Your serenity

  peace we can't understand

  comfort her with Your presence

  as You gently close her eyes

  rock her in Your arms, Lord,

  as You sing sweet lullabies

  amen

  Three

  Monday, September 6

  (LABOR DAY, DRIVING THROUGH NORTHERN CALIFORNIA)

  We did three concerts in two days—our record so far—and we're all feeling pretty wiped out. On Saturday we did the Oregon state fair. Then on Sunday we played for a pretty big church in Eugene, Oregon. Then we zipped down to a smaller town called Ashland, where we performed an evening concert for a medium-sized church. Our reward for all this hard work is that we get to camp in the mountains tonight.

  “You call that a reward?” complained Allie after Willy told us the news over breakfast at Denny's this morning.

  He grinned. “Sounds like a reward to me.”

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘camping’?”asked Laura with one brow raised. “Do we have to actually sleep outside?”

  Willy chuckled. “Only if you want to.”

  “No thanks,” said Allie.

  “Count me out,” agreed Laura. “I have enough trouble sleeping in the RV. I don't need to be f reakin' about things like bears or snakes.”

  “Suit yourselves.” Willy shook his head with an expression that suggested he thought we were a bunch of sissies. I wanted to say that I was perfectly willing to sleep outside but didn't want to make Allie and Laura look bad. So I kept ray mouth shut. But the truth is, I thought it'd be cool to sleep out under the stars and the moon. And as we drove through this gorgeous forested area (Lassen National Park), I thought maybe I would. I just didn't make a big deal about it. Especially since Laura seemed a little stressed out.

  I asked her last night if she'd told her mom about her sleeping problem.

  “Yeah, she said that she'd call Dr. Stewart. He's a friend of the family. She thinks he'll recommend something.” Laura shook her head. “In the meantime, she told me to drink a glass of warm milk.”

  I made a face. “Yuck.”

  She nodded. “Just what I was thinking. I mean, I can barely stand to drink cold milk. Like I'm really going to drink it warm.”

  We pulled into a campground that looked like something out of an old Disney movie. I spotted lodge-type buildings and small cabins located here and there as we followed Willy's RV and snaked our way around a gorgeous blue lake. Willy had the right idea—this place was totally beautiful. I couldn't wait to get outside and check it out. And Davie was so excited to escape the bus that he was literally bouncing off the walls. Poor Elise looked as though she'd about had it. But Rosy quickly parked the bus, and like clowns in a circus car we all poured out of the RV, breathing in the clean mountain air and whooping like grade-schoolers on a field trip.

  (Later the same night, I am writing by flashlight)

  Our camping excursion has been totally cool. Even Laura and Allie are liking it. As soon as we got outside, we walked over to the camp store and bought some treats, then rented a rowboat to take out on the lake. Ve rowed out to the middle to a floating dock where a bunch of other kids were hanging and swimming and stuff. They invited us to join them. So we tied up our boat and got out. It was getting pretty hot, so we decided to jump in the water and cool off. We splashed around for a while until we got tired and climbed out.

  So there we were, just relaxing and contentedly sunning our tired selves on the dock, and Allie let it “slip out” to these kids that “we were in a band.” Amazing how she managed to do this. She can bring up our “celebrity” right out of the complete blue. Honestly, people could be talking about lobster traps in Maine, and somehow Allie would be able to connect that with the fact that we're in a band!

  Laura looked somewhat irritated as she shook the water from her braids, and I was downright embarrassed, but Allie went right on telling these guys about all the concerts we've done and how we have our own CD and everything! Sheesh, I actually wanted to smack her. But I didn't. Finally, Laura and I hinted that we should get back, and Allie actually invited these kids over to our campsite. I'm thinking, “Okay, now you've gone too far.” But I didn't say anything. I just climbed into the boat and pretended like I wasn't totally irritated with her.

  “You want to swim back to camp, Allie?” I asked as I began to paddle away from the dock.

  “Hey, what're ya doing?” she yelled.

  So trying to be a loving Christian, I forced myself to row back to the dock and wait until she climbed in. But as we paddled away, Laura lectured Allie about her big mouth.

  But I have to say it really didn't turn out so bad. Ifot long after dinner, about six of these kids dropped by our campsite, I'm sure out of curiosity.

  By then Willy had made a little campf ire, and I was playing my acoustic guitar, just tweaking around. Elise had brought out the ingredients for s'mores, and we were all pretty much sugared out. Anyway, we welcomed these guys and offered them some s'mores. Then we sat and visited for a while. They said they lived in a nearby town and were camping on their own, enjoying their last bit of summer before school started in a couple days. They actually reminded me of some of my friends at school, the kind of kids who pretty much do as they please and whose parents don't seem to much care.

  As usual, Laura made it perfectly clear from the start that we were Christians. And that was okay with me, but I don't think she had to be quite so up-front about it. Sometimes I think it's fun to let it slip out naturally. But as it turned out, one of the guys—a sixteen-year-old named Brian-had a lot of questions about our faith.

  “Yeah, my mom claims to be a Christian too,” he admitted as he poked the fire with a long marshmallow-toasting stick, “but she just kicked me out of the house.”

  “Why?”I asked.

  “She thought I was doing drugs and stuff.”

  “Were you?” asked Allie in a gentle voice.

  He shrugged. “I was trying to quit.”

  “Trying?” repeated Laura with one of her skeptical Laura-looks. He didn't answer and she continued. “You know, a person could spend his whole life 'trying' not to do something, but it's only when he decides he's not going to do it that he succeeds.”

  Brian looked up at her and finally nodded. “You might be right.”

  “It can be pretty hard to quit something like that on your own,”I told him. “But it can make a huge difference if you as
k God to help you.”

  “You really think that God—if there is a God-really listens?” Brian studied us carefully as he waited for an answer.

  “Yeah,” chimed in a girl named Stacie with a tattoo of a black rose wrapped around her wrist. Her hair was cut short and dyed maraschino cherry red. I'd already complimented her on it earlier today. I'd try that color myself except that I'd have to bleach my hair first to get it to be that vivid. At the present I'm settling for this deep purple black shade. “What makes you think God even cares?” she asked with a defiant tilt to her chin.

  “I used to think he didn't,” I told her.

  “Me too,” added Allie.

  Then I proceeded to tell these kids about how I questioned God and life and just about everything until I got so depressed and desperate that I cried out to God to help me. I told them about meeting God in the graveyard—how I stumbled upon Clay Berringer's gravesite and the powerful words on his headstone. “Jesus said, 4 am the way and the truth and the life,’”I quoted to them. “He said, 4fo one comes to the father except through me.’” I then explained how reassuring this was to me personally—just knowing that Jesus is the One who paid the price for me to have a relationship with God.

  It wasn't so different from what I say at concerts when it's my turn to share my testimony. But somehow, sitting by the campf ire with these kids listening right next to me, it felt more real than ever. And I suppose I spoke with an urgency that I don't normally feel. Ky face flushed with intensity, or maybe it was the heat of the campf ire, but I felt almost embarrassed when I finished. Not from speaking the truth, but from being a little pushy.

  “Sorry,”I said quickly. “I didn't mean to sound all preachy or anything.”

  “It's okay,” said Brian. “A lot of what you said makes sense. I guess I've felt the same way sometimes.”

  “me too,” echoed another girl who'd been quiet until then.

  “It's kind of like this song…” said Allie.

  I tossed her a warning look. Ho way did I want this evening to turn into a mini concert.

  “Aw, come on, Ghloe,” she urged me. “Can't we sing ‘Stubborn Love’ to them?”

  Laura nudged me with her elbow. “Yeah, aren't we supposed to sing around the campf ire, Ghloe?”

  Willy snickered as he pulled a sleepy little Davie onto his lap.

  “Okay.”I sighed and picked up my guitar then started strumming. “You guys might be sorry you stopped by. Who knows, we might end up singing “Kum Ba Yah” or something equally lame before the night is over.”

  So the three of us sang “Stubborn Love,” and when we finished, the kids actually began to clap.

  “That was so cool,” said Stacie.

  “Yeah,” agreed another girl. “You guys are really good.”

  “Sing another one,” urged Brian.

  I noticed some movement in the shadows beyond the campf ire and looked up to see several bystanders lurking about. “Hey, you guys might as well join us,” I called out. And so we sang a few more songs, and believe it or not, we even ended the evening by singing “Kum Ba Yah.”

  Pretty funny. Actually, it was pretty cool. We talked a little more, and I think some of the things we shared were sinking in. I plan to pray for the new friends we made today—that God will chase them down with His stubborn love.

  CAKPMRE PRAYERS

  twilight and firelight

  faces warm and flushed

  open hearts and open minds

  and in Your spirit rushed

  starlight and moonlight

  here beneath the deep

  i place myself in Your hands

  and peacefully i sleep

  amen

  Four

  Tuesday, September 7

  (DRIVING INTO NEVADA)

  It's funny to imagine our friends back in school today. Gan't say that I envy them, stuck in those suffocating classrooms while summer continues to lurk outside their windows. It still feels as though we're on vacation. Okay, a working vacation.

  Anyway, we're heading to Reno right now. Not to gamble but to perform. I suppose that's a bit of a gamble though. I mean, it seems as if the day could come when all we get are lemons—like a crowd that really hates us. I'm not even sure what I'd do if that actually happened. But I've dreamed it before. Actually, it was more of a nightmare.

  We're standing onstage, and I can't remember how to play my guitar, and the whole audience is booing and throwing shoes and stuff at us. It's so humiliating. When I wake up, I try to remind myself that we're performing for God, not man, and if people quit liking us at least God still will. Even so, that nightmare always leaves me feeling unsettled and insecure. As a result, I'm sure I push Allie and Laura even harder when we rehearse the next day. But it's not nearly as hard as I push myself.

  We drove through Donner Pass this morning— the place where the settlers got stranded in the snow and ate each other. Well, I'm sure that's oversimplifying the whole thing, but it does leave you with an eerie feeling. I don't care how hungry I was, I don't think I could ever resort to eating a human. It was hard to imagine that such a tragedy could've occurred in a place that looked so pretty and green and.peaceful. But we saw photos of how it looks when the snows come, and it's a totally different scene.

  Laura was feeling somewhat relieved today, since we were able to pick up her prescription to help her sleep. I sure hope it works. She's been getting pretty cranky lately. Allie told me it's really due to the fact that Ryan Hall hasn't e-mailed her since August.

  “Laura's afraid he's going to forget all about her in college,” Allie whispered as we lounged in the back bedroom, supposedly working on lyrics.

  “Kaybe it would be for the best,” I said. “Then she could focus more on our music.”

  “Don't tell her that.”

  “I guess I didn't realize she had it that bad for him.” I frowned as I tweaked a word in the second stanza.

  “Yeah, sometimes it's hard to tell with Laura. She's pretty good at keeping her feelings hidden, you know?”

  “I suppose.” But it surprised me a little that she'd shared this tidbit with Allie and not me. Now as I write this, I'm trying not to feel jealous because I'm glad that Laura told someone. But at the same time, it makes me feel a little on the outside of things. But I suppose she thinks I wouldn't understand since I'm the one who's always saying we need to put our music first, especially now that we're officially on tour. (I mean, first over guys—not Godi)

  Hopefully, her sleeping pills will help her get some rest and she'll start acting like her old self again. While I personally don't like the idea of using medications for anything (I hardly ever take an aspirin, but that's just me), in Laura's case I can understand. She's been so stressed and tired that I'm sure it's not good for her to continue like that. It's not good for any of us. Kaybe her little blue pills will make the difference.

  Allie is still her lively old happy fun-loving self. And as usual, this is rubbing Laura all wrong. Lately, she's been getting irritated at Allie for almost everything. Like talking too much or bouncing around the RV like a Superball—just the normal Allie stuff. But I feel sorry for Allie too. I know she feels cooped up and gets tired of being picked on for her “vivacious” personality.

  As a result, she often chooses to ride in Willy's little RV. But I know he appreciates the company. In some ways I think Willy is becoming a real father figure for Allie, and that's cool. I can tell that Elise really appreciates his influence.

  Anyway, this calms things down in here a lot, and I can usually manage to get some songwriting done while Allie's gone. Of course, there's still Davie to contend with, but Elise does a pretty good job of keeping him occupied. It's funny because Elise, although energetic, is a fairly calm and controlled sort of person, but her kids, as sweet as they both are, are still a handful at times. In fact, I overheard Elise talking to Allie yesterday while we were packing things up after our camping trip.

  “Kaybe you should consider goin
g back on your Ritalin,” she said in a quiet voice. I'm sure she didn't realize that I was just around the corner shaking pine needles from my sleeping bag.

  “Why?” Allie asked in this slightly whiny voice that she always reserves especially for her mom.

  “I think your hyperactivity gets on Laura's nerves,” continued Elise. “I'm sure you don't realize it, honey, but you can be pretty irritating sometimes.”

  “But I hate how those pills make me feel, Kom. It's like they completely sap ray energy, not to mention ray creative juices. You know how they turn me into Zombie Girl.”

  “But they do calm you down.”

  Allie sighed loudly. “Okay, fine! But how about if I try to calm myself down without the pills first? Maybe I could tape my mouth shut and put a pillow over ray head. Would that make you happy?”

  “Oh, Allie.”

  “Then maybe you guys would quit picking on me.”

  “I'm not trying to pick on you. I'm just trying to-”

  “I know, Mora. You're just trying to help.”

  “Well, the pills are in the medicine cabinet if you change your mind.”

  Poor Allie. I shook ray head as I finished rolling up the sleeping bag. But I don't blame her a bit. I sure wouldn't want to have to take pills to calm me down either. It's weird to think that Laura needs pills to help her sleep and Allie needs pills to calm her down. Sheesh!

  But I must agree with Allie on this. I think she's perfectly fine without her Ritalin. In fact, life would be sadly boring if Allie suddenly started acting all quiet and calm—or grumpy like Laura. I guess I need to let Allie know that I like her just the way she is—live wire or not. Allie is just Allie, and that's okay by me.

  WHO WE ARE

  who are we

  and what's our game?

  all are different