Chasing Nirvana

Fifteen

“The previous owners wanted this to be kind of a haven for their readers,” Patrick explained. We were now crowded around the metal plate, staring at the words engraved onto it which read ‘Nirvana, The Greatest Escape For Your Mind’. We had just finished telling Patrick about our impromptu road trip and he was now telling us about the store. “I thought about changing it, but then decided not to. Nobody really cared anyway, as long as they got their books at a cheap price.”

  “I wished this would have been the place,” Jimmy said quietly. “It would have been perfect.”

“Too bad it’s not,” Georgie agreed. She turned around. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m starving. Is it okay if we leave now?”

Patrick glanced at the clock on the wall. “She’s right,” he said. “Since this isn’t the place you’re looking for, you kids better go along, especially if you want dinner. Most diners here close by nine.”

He ushered us back to the exit and we said our goodbyes. I thanked him for sharing his story with Jimmy and me, and he waved me away.

“It’s nothing,” he called. “Good luck with the trip!”

As we were walking down the quiet pavement, Jimmy abruptly turned around ran back towards him.

“Jesus, what is it now?” Georgie grumbled as we watched Jimmy say something to Patrick. She was acting real weird, and for once, Scooter wasn’t arguing with her. I frowned at the two of them. Something is going on. I was just about to ask, but I got distracted by Patrick and Jimmy. Patrick was frowning and shaking his head, but Jimmy scrawled something on a piece of paper and pressed it into his hand.

“Just think about it,” I heard her say firmly and that was that.

The next morning, we woke up early so we could get on the way. Our third stop would be Cumberland, Pennsylvania and after that we were off to New York City, which was going to be pretty damn exciting since, with the exception of Jimmy, none of us had been to there. Summer in a big city with Jimmy...I daydreamed about the possibilities it could provide as Scooter and I packed our bags in our room in silence. We could walk around Greenwich Village, or have a picnic in Central Park. Maybe, just maybe, she would relax enough that I could ask her out on a date. I imagined us walking under along bustling sidewalk, the bright lights of Time Squares casting shades of pink and blue over her soft cheeks. Maybe tourists will think we’re a cute couple. We could take the subway down to Brooklyn, and have a quiet dinner at some artsy Williamsburg restaurant. And I’d make her laugh, and hold her hand and kiss her at the end.

That was, of course, if we didn’t manage to find the right Nirvana in Cumberland. If we did, the four us had agreed over dinner, we would head straight back home. I found myself cringing at that thought as Scooter and I walked down to the lobby, where the receptionist from yesterday pointedly ignored us until Scooter started talking with Jimmy’s mom on the phone. (I had sent a quick text to mine earlier, telling her I was alright and alive and going to Cumberland, and then shutting down the phone before she could call me.) I tuned them out and went back to my daydream. It has already been two days we left Milton, and I had yet to have a good conversation with Jimmy. I was being a miserable coward. I should ask her out. I would do it, I promised myself, if we managed to get to New York.

The girls came down huffing with the weight of their own bags and we returned the keys to the receptionist, took back our IDs, and walked out to the car park. I was trying to help Jimmy, who was busy typing into the phone, with her bag when Georgie pulled me to a stop.

“Hey, wasn’t that the guy from yesterday?” she asked. We looked up. True enough, there was Patrick Schwartz standing beside Jimmy’s white Cadillac, dressed in a plain white shirt and jeans, his crutch squeezed under his left arm and a duffel bag at his feet. He raised his right hand in greeting and gave us a small smile.