The moment our car enters the town of Whisper, Idaho; a heavy, angry rain begins. The thick, large drops hit the windshield, like fists pounding down on glass. The small-town blurs under the sudden downpour. The night sky is coated in a blanket of darkness, almost too thick to be natural. And even though the heat is on, I feel a sudden chill that makes me shiver. It’s as if the town doesn’t want us here.
Well, that makes two of us...
I looked up Whisper before we got here. It’s on the edge of a forest called Greenstone Forest. And on the outskirts of town, there’s mountain range and two small lakes. The travel guides tell us it’s a great place to fish, hunt, and camp. Guess what I don’t know how to do--Fish. Hunt. Camp.
Basically, this is a nature loving campers, hunters, or a fisherman’s dream destination. But guess what, I am a city girl through and through. I want more than the great outdoors. I want bright lights, loud music, a town that never sleeps.
They have “Starbucks” under sights to see. WTH? How is a coffee shop a big main attraction?
As we navigate the streets of Whisper, I am relieved to see a bookstore. They may be my only saving grace to this little hell hole in the middle of nowhere.
I would be lost without my books.
I’ve always had this feeling that one day, I would wake up and find myself in some sort of crazy situation like my favorite book characters. That I would stumble across a conspiracy that I had to convince the world was real.
The feeling pretty much died the moment we crossed the border into Whisper.
Okay, Sailor you vowed not to be bitter about this. You vowed to be supportive of your Dad.
Yeah, but can’t we be supportive in Chicago or Los Angeles? Why did we have to move to the middle of nowhere?
Sigh.
I just can’t hold it back anymore.
I sigh again.
Dad looks over at me and raises an eyebrow.
A few minutes later he makes his way down a tree lined street and pulls up in front of a blue and white two-story house.
“This is it. This is our new home.”
He says proudly. The first one to comment is my white Shih Tzu; Loki. He barks in my lap and wags his tail excitedly.
“Loki likes his new home, don’t you boy?” My Dad asks as he unbuckles his seat belt. Loki gets even more excited.
“Sailor, what do you say? Wanna take a look inside?” He asks, turning towards me.
No! I want to run screaming from this place and back to New York City. I want to be back among gleaming skyscrapers, museums and first-rate pizza shops.
Sailor Monroe, stop your bitching and moaning! You know why you had to leave New York…
“Yeah Dad, let’s go see it.” I reply, flashing my warmest smile. We cover ourselves with our jackets, I grab Loki and we head for the house. It only takes seconds for Dad to locate the key under the matt and unlock the door. The house is furnished. The décor is old but in good condition.
“So…what do you think? We haven’t bought it yet; we’re just renting but we will have the option to buy if we want.” Dad says.
His words hit me like a hammer in the chest. We could buy this house. That would mean that our life in New York City was officially over. It’s stupid but even as we packed and said good-bye to friends and family, I thought somewhere in the back of my mind, we’d somehow find our way back to New York.
Seriously, how did we get here?
What the hell happened to my family?
But of course, I know exactly what happened.
Six months ago, my life imploded…
I came home from school and found my Mom’s lifeless body in a tub full of red water. She killed herself and left me to find her. It’s strange to see a guy cry but when that guy is your father, it’s just heartbreaking. Dad fell into a depression so deep, he never got out of bed. And when he did manage to leave the condo, he’d run into a person who knew mom and they’d ask about her. Or he’d walk by the restaurant where they had an anniversary dinner. They were married for seventeen years, and that adds up to a lot of memories.
Soon New York City became a living monument to the woman that left us. No sixteen-year old wants to leave their friends and their life behind and move to a small town; especially a town that, according to the Internet, has only one Starbucks which again according to the brochure is a main attraction. So, when Dad received an email from a company looking for a new head chef for their Inn, I said “No.” There was no way that was going to happen. My Dad wanted the move to be something we both agreed on, so he declined the offer.
But in the following days, I watched him shirk even further inside his head. And I knew that I had to do something. So, I not only agreed to move to the middle of nowhere, I championed the move. That’s what you do for the dad who gave you horsey rides. That’s what you do for the Dad that took you to ‘American Girl’ and drank tea from pink teacups just to you happy.
The dad who slept in your closet for a week straight to prove to you that there were no Monsters hiding in there. The dad who cooks chicken soup from scratch at 3 am because you had the flu and woke up starving. And finally, that’s what you do for the parent who sticks around even when life gets hard.
We love each other and we’re a team.
“Biscuit!” Dad calls, jarring me back to the present.
“What do you think of the house?”
“It has real potential.” I reply.
