All Roads Lead to Jeffrey

You guys know I love you, right? That even though it may seem that I am incapable of creating new posts, reading and commenting to your always witty, amazingly-insightful comments here at Inside...Out (laying it on a little thick, you say?? I think not.), and then making my way over to your delightful, always-intriguing places for a lovely read and then making sure to deposit in my wake a little sumthin’-sumthin’…just to let you know I’d dropped by…………………………………….

Clinton Kelly (My favorite IV): “Yikes. You’ve completely lost control with that run-on sentence, haven’t you? And five bucks says you’ve totally forgotten your point.”

Kathryn: “Ha. ‘I’m sorry I’m behind in responding to comments and visiting. I'll do my best to catch up soon.’ Bite me. Pay up.”

Clinton whips a fiver out of jean pocket and slaps it into Kathryn’s outstretched hand.

Kathryn: (Eyes narrow) “You seemed awfully ready to pay up on this bet. Why so fast, Mr. Road Runner?”

CK: “I knew it would get you to your point before everyone dozed off. It’s called being prepared.”

K: “I still have a story to tell.”

CK: “I was afraid of that. Am I in it?”

K: “You’re in it now…and if anyone sees a disturbing parallel between you and Nigel then, well…yeah…you’re in it.”

CK: “Nigel is the name you gave your navigational system…is it not? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Kathryn smiles sweetly.

Connor (13) wanted to go visit his friend, Jeff. I’ve always liked the name Jeff. Da boys and I fell in love with a Puffer-fish at the dentist’s office once. He had a permanent sweet smile on his face and he followed our finger from side to side. We named him Jeffrey.

Then, we made this awesome Halloween character to stand on our doorstep for like, 3 weeks and freaked out all the neighbors and we named him…can you guess?

He was Jeffrey the Kickball-Headed Ghost. If you missed that, you owe me a fiver.

So, I was very excited to meet a Jeff that was actually a live boy.

The house number was on ‘Old Route 72’ and Jeff said it was ‘definitely not the green house’…just for clarification.

I programmed Jeff’s address into Nigel and away we went. Yes, my nav’s name is Nigel (from the David Hyde Pierce character of the same name on Frasier) only my Nigel has a British accent…so every time he directs me, I swoon a little.

We followed Nigel’s directions precisely but when we ‘arrived at our destination’ (with Nigel proudly displaying a car race’s finishing flag on the screen as confirmation), we sat in front of an empty lot.

Connor: “Um. I don’t think so. Nigel, you are such a dork. Now we’re gonna be late.”

Me: “You do realize you’re talking to a machine, right?”

Connor: (Annoyed) “You do it all the time! He’s freakin’ useless.”

Me: “Connor. Mouth. Maybe he’s confused. Maybe there’s more than one Old Route 72. Betcha five bucks.”

Connor’s already yanking his cell out of his pocket and calling Jeff, who informs us that yes indeed, there are two Old Route 72’s. We need to turn around, cross over New Route 72 and look for his mailbox with the house number displayed.

We see a mailbox on the left with the correct number and there’s something resembling a road next to it, so in we go. I’ve got Nigel set on auto-map at this point and he seems to feel we’ve left anything resembling solid ground and he shows the car kind of...floating…nothing below or around us. I found this a tad unsettling.

The ‘road’ was more of a wide trail…and it got more and more rustic the further in we drove. The trees were closing in around us and I found myself blurting out, “This is the scene where the rabid bear flings himself onto the car and they’re never heard from again.” Connor’s squirming a little in his seat and peering at his cell…I’m peering at what’s left of ‘the road’ and slow down as we reach the bottom of a steep hill. I’ve realized if we meet anyone coming the other way, there ain’t room for both of us. I must’ve said it out loud, because the combination of no cell reception and the ominous sound in my voice was enough for Connor to say, “Turn around. It’s not worth it. We’re so freakin’ lost.”

K: “I don’t think I can make it up this hill…but I think we should try. Is that house on the left green? Can you tell? IS IT GREEN??”

C: “I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE! TURN AROUND! WE’LL NEVER MAKE IT!”

K: “I’M GONNA TRY! HANG ON! YA ONLY LIVE ONCE! I LOVE YOU, CONNOR! NIGEL? YOU SUCK.”

…and I gunned it….up the hill…rocks spewing every which way, Connor and I both screaming with a mixture of exhilaration and terror.

When we reached the crest, there in front of us…was the most beautiful log cabin…all by itself…complete with stables and two chestnut horses peacefully grazing. And there stood Jeff and his parents playing with their dogs in the front yard.

Jeff smiled…and his mom said, “Did you have any trouble finding the place?” I considered the standard response of, “No, no problems at all” but opted for a more honest answer:
“You know, you live in the middle of freakin’ nowhere…” She laughed. I think we’ll get along just fine.