By the Time I Got to Woodstock

"I wish I could buy that house." I said wistfully, before thinking about it. "It was so funky and comfortable, but maybe that was because you guys were there. Now I guess it would just be a house."

"I couldn't ever live there again," Roger explained when I asked about him why he was selling the house. "Everything in it screams Grace to me. I just couldn't handle that."

I understood that, and after we chatted a while we went about our separate ways, promising to stay in touch, and we did although I somehow knew when we said goodbye that he wouldn't live very long without Grace. While I didn't want to be right, as it turned out I was. When Grace died, I know a part of him went too.

The ride home still loomed ahead of me, and my suitcase and trunk full of stuff was a sad reminder of my high hopes for our reunion, and the dark clouds that had loomed over Vermont all day started to make noise as a few drops landed on my windshield.

"Great," I muttered to myself, "Just what I needed, although at least I'm not walking this time."

In front of me I saw a guy walking on the side of the road, wearing a backpack and a sign that was unreadable. I had to swerve to avoid him and then hit the brakes and looked back.

The guy saw me stop and started running up to my car.

"Tough to see you in those fatigues," I said as he leaned down to look in the window. "Couldn't read your sign."

"Saratoga Springs," the guy said. "It's in New York."

"Know it well, I said. "You're in luck. Hop in."

The guy looked grubby and smelled like he had been on the road for a while, and while he looked a little older than me, I could relate to him. Been there done that. As it turned out, the man was good company for the trip, and even played some mean blues harmonica to help pass the time.

I hadn't been going to Saratoga Springs, but it was only about 30 miles out of the way so I took him right to where he was going, which was a motel his cousin owned where he was supposed to be getting a job.

"Man, you were a life saver," he said before getting his backpack out of the back of the car.

"Here," I said, fishing a few bucks out of the drink holder than I had gotten back in change from tolls.

"Oh man," he said, looking at the pittance like it was a fortune. "Things have been really bad since my Dad died or else I wouldn't be - I'm not usually like this. Give me your address so I can pay you back when I can."

"Forget it," I said, and then added. "If you ever want to pay me back..."

He nodded after I gave him a condensed version of what Grace and Roger had told me, telling me that he would do just that when things turned around for him, and after I drove off I had to smile because Grace had been right.

It felt good, and I really couldn't believe how good. It didn't make me even with Grace and Roger, but it was a start.

...

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