The first few nights were sleepless. As Jules lay in the same bed he’d been sleeping in since the move to Santa Barbara, he stared up at the darkness. He and Seamus reassembled the bed upon arrival. The corner bedroom on the second floor, overlooking the pond. The place was nice enough. Food was good, especially the Italian and Mexican meals. Movie night was okay. They’d watched Saving Private Ryan the night he’d gone. There were two old fellas who must’ve been over 100-years-old among the crowd, WWII vets among the dozen or so viewers. The people splayed out on sofas and comfy chairs, with their walkers and canes nearby, occasionally calling for help toward the bathroom. The two veterans had pushed for the viewing. Jules appreciated the film. He’d seen it in the theater with his pal Eugene back in ’98.
That night, he couldn’t sleep, thinking back to his childhood kitchen, recalling Nina and Philip listening to Roosevelt’s announcement over the radio that the war was finally over. Seeing the relief spread across his mother’s face.
Jules lay in bed. An image of an ink-black sea spilled out behind his eyes. Jules imagined himself adrift on what seemed to be a sailboat. How he’d embarked, and how far he’d drifted, he didn’t know. Jules stood holding a ship’s wheel, a light mist met his cheeks. The word “rudder” floated through his mind. He’d never learned to steer a boat. Went canoeing a handful of times, wearing a bright orange life preserver. He went whale watching a few times. The waves lapped at the side of the boat, rocking it gently back and forth. To Jules, there was nothing soothing about being on the boat. The endless black horizon. He searched for an anchor. Nothing in sight. Jules forced the dream out of his mind.
He walked over to the kitchenette. Got two ice cubes from the tray, dropped them into a glass and poured himself a lemonade mixed with sparkling water. He considered a splash of gin, but realized he didn’t want to feel the numbness that came after the spirit went through his body and left him.
The next morning, Jules forced himself from bed, eyes itching. He’d slept for maybe three hours, reading off and on between surreal dreams. When Jules slipped off into his subconscious, he found himself alone, jumping from one corner of the earth to the next. First he was adrift in a boat at sea, overwhelmed by the inky darkness. Later, he was wandering the desert, a mirage of sand and wind engulfing him. What must’ve been an hour later, Jules was scaling a rocky slope of hillside without a person in sight. He kept waking in a panic, sweat dripping from his forehead and the back of his neck. His dreams had become an extreme travel show. Must’ve been prompted by that nature documentary he’d seen a couple of nights ago.
Jules made his way out to the cafeteria, walking the white hallways with the slightly medicinal odor. There were about 60 tables, most empty. He poured himself a cup of coffee at the side station. Then a bowl of oatmeal and some berries. He put a plastic cup of lemon yogurt on his tray. Jules had the bizarre feeling he was permanently staying at a bed and breakfast or a strange hotel. He shuffled over to a corner table with his tray, sat down and looked out the window. At least the place had strong coffee. Jules appreciated those morning sips. In the sunshine, the dew rose majestically up from the lawn. A cheerful new acquaintance named Sofia waved hello as she shuffled by on her walker. Jules nodded and smiled.
After breakfast, Jules was about to head back to his room to read, when he saw the bulletin board with the different schedules and groups listed. Walking group. 9:30, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today was Thursday. They met in the parking lot outside the cafeteria.
“Okay,” Jules thought. “I’ll give it a shot.”
The group consisted of four people. The other walkers were all younger than Jules. Probably in their 70s, he guessed. Charlie wore an aqua-colored hat that said, “My Grandkids Got Me This Hat,” in small black letters. He nodded to Jules and held his hand out for a shake when they met.
A short and curvy lady with jet-black hair introduced herself as Minerva. She struck Jules as a former lawyer or maybe a manager of some corporate office. Minerva had been chatting with two other women. They looked like sisters. When they turned toward Jules, he saw they were identical twins.
Jules was horrified. He was spooked by identical twins. The only difference between the two, was one had long silver hair, while the other’s was cut short, the hair severely cut in a line at the top of the neck. Leona and Leslie. They were friendly enough.
The leader was a young (maybe early-60s?) volunteer named Marcy. She was either too caffeinated or just naturally wired. Marcy parked her little two-door sedan and jumped out, ready to lead the group. “How about 45 minutes today, everyone?” Marcy shouted. Everyone seemed to agree and the walk began.
Jules had no trouble keeping up at first. Leona and Leslie led the pack, with Marcy interviewing Jules as they strolled.
“Are we all supposed to walk together, or do you pick your own pace?” Jules asked. Marcy said, “Depends what you prefer. Charlie here usually walks at his own pace, a bit slower, does that suit you, Jules, walking a bit more slowly?”
Jules looked at Charlie, who hadn’t said a word since the handshake. “Sure,” Jules said.
Jules and Charlie stayed back behind the women. Marcy was just in front of them, occasionally encouraging, though it seemed unnecessary. They’d only been walking for 10 minutes or so. Jules didn’t think he was about to keel over just yet.
It turned out Charlie was an elementary school teacher for 33 years. When he retired, he spent more time writing folks songs with a couple of friends. Charlie had been inspired by Woody Guthrie. He was heavily involved with union organizing in the 1960s and 70s. Charlie spoke with what Jules could only describe as the weary exhilaration of an old fella who used to think the world was full of possibilities.
Charlie had obviously been a magnetic force, building camaraderie and spirit. He said Cesar Chavez was a kind of superhero, inspired by Gandhi, but his ego sometimes got in the way. Charlie spoke of Dolores Huerta as a warrior woman. Charlie told Jules he would share Dolores’ TED Talk with him when he got back to his computer.
Jules was delighted and impressed with his new friend Charlie. By all early indications, the man had clearly lived his values. He reminded Jules of one of his favorite Gandhi sayings: "First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win." All the while, Jules didn’t even notice he was walking. They’d found a rhythm in the late-morning sunshine, as they circled the pond and watched a mother duck with a half-dozen ducklings. The 45 minutes went by quickly.
Jules parted ways with Charlie and they agreed they’d meet again next week.