My heart clenched. “Oh, Jeremiah.”
“Now, don’t go feeling sorry for me. I made my bed, and I never really regretted it neither. But this one day a guy met up with me in the stalls. We did our business and he handed me the money—along with the keys. I figured it was some kind of setup, but I took it anyway.
“Drove straight to my daughter’s house even though I hadn’t spoken to her in a decade. She was real good to me. Put me up for a while, helped me access my VA benefits, and I finally could afford this house. Kept the car, though. Now it’s yours.”
My heart felt overfull. “Okay. I’ll use it but I’ll bring it back.”
He shook his head vehemently. “I don’t need it. I’m an old man with nowhere to go. I get groceries delivered twice a month. I figure that man at the truck stop saw that I needed the car more than he did, and that’s why I’m giving it to you. Just get where you need to go. That’s all that matters.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rainbows appear almost every day as sunlight reflects off the mist from the falls.
As I pulled the old blue Toyota next to a parking meter a mile away from the Niagara Falls State Park entrance, it occurred to me that there may be nothing here for me.
Groups of people bustled by laden with strollers and diaper bags. Concessions were sold from street vendors. Signs announced that the Maiden of the Mist—this being the name of the ship—gave tours. Even the skyline was populated erratically with tall business buildings. It was all far more modern and commercial than any of the pictures in my book had been.
But the falls fulfilled their prophecy and took my breath away on sight. Or rather, on sighting one of them, because the expanse of the three falls together was far more than I could have visualized before. It felt enormous—and considering it divided two large countries, I supposed that made sense. There were multiple rainbows arching over the falls, closer than I’d ever seen one but also see-through…rather ghostly, really.
I went to an exhibit where I heard some of the same facts from the book, about the daredevils who went down the falls in barrels, about the tightrope walker. There was even a short segment on the Hermit of Niagara Falls, which I found gratifying in the extreme. After all, if Jeremiah hadn’t been stretching the truth about that, maybe all the other stories were true too. I hoped so. It was a full life. Some good, some bad, but the man knew how to have adventures.
I did go on the large boat to get up close and personal with the falls, getting drenched despite the poncho they gave us. There was an option to go into the tunnels behind the falls, though I found cave-dwelling far less interesting without Hunter there to float with me.
By the time I had seen all there was to see, the day was waning. I counted the money Jeremiah had loaned me, feeling guilty all the while. Get where you need to go, he’d said. But I was here, and I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. It was becoming less clear what that really was.
I fed the parking meter and walked over to the hostel that I’d found online before coming here. Thirty bucks got me a clean bed, even if I did have to share a room. The girl barely looked up from her book when I came in. I glanced at the cover and did a double take.
Everything You Wanted to Know About Niagara Falls.
“I read that,” I exclaimed.
I knew I sounded like a moron, but I couldn’t help it. Alone in the world, it was nice to find common ground in even the smallest ways.
“You going to work on the Maiden too?” At my puzzled look, she continued. “The Maiden of the Mist. I’m studying to pass the test so I can be one of their tour guides.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Adventure guides.”
“No. At least, I hadn’t planned to.”
But there was a thought. I had most of the information memorized already. At least then I could earn back the money I’d borrowed from Jeremiah while I formulated a new plan. Still, I felt ambivalent about the falls. It wasn’t their fault I’d pinned so much on them. They couldn’t deliver me what I wanted, I knew that now. I’d probably always known.
The girl shut the book and groaned. “The first person to map the Niagara Falls was a French priest in 1678.” She considered. “Well, except for the Native Americans. So I guess the book is wrong.”
“Yeah,” I said wryly. “I’ve heard that.”
She tossed it onto the bed. “Sometimes I think history isn’t really what happened. It’s how you look at it.”
I grinned. “You and me are going to get along fine.”
“You got a name?”
“Evie. And you?”
“Sarah. I moved here with my dumbass boyfriend. Well, I didn’t think he was a dumbass at the time. But we broke up because he is, in fact, a dumbass. And a cheater. Figure I might as well make some money while I sort this shit out.”
“That sucks, and I understand completely.”
“Wanna grab some dinner?”