Slightly More Happens - September Splendor

0:00Get more Nothing Much Happens with bonus episodes, extra long stories and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now. Welcome to a special, longer episode of bedtime stories. For everyone, in which slightly more happens. You feel good and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nicolai. I write and read all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens. Audio engineering is by Bob Witterschheim. We give to a different charity each week.

1:00And this week we are giving to brown bag lady, rooted in using kindness, food and essentials as a way to improve the lives of others throughout Los Angeles. Learn more about them in our show notes. Here is your monthly dose of extra Nothing Much, in which we give you a three story episode on the free feed and a five story episode on our premium feed. And this is a perfect moment to upgrade because there is a part four to the stories I'm telling tonight and it plus another episode will be part of the premium version. Learn more at Nothing Much Happens.com. Just as with our regular episodes. These stories are simply a soft place to occupy your mind.

2:00To keep it steady and allow you to drift to sleep. All you need to do is listen. I'll tell the stories twice and I'll go a little slower the second time through. If you wake later in the night, don't hesitate to just start them over again. Our stories tonight are if I do say so myself such a treat. If you have ever wished to book a stay at the end of Nothing Much to watch the leaves change while sipping coffee from the back porch. If you love trains and journals and cats and trays of food sent up from the kitchen, these stories are for you. Once the night start getting cooler, making the bed extra cozy is something I look forward

3:06to so much. And Quince has become one of my go-to's for bedding. Their European linen gets softer with every wash and their organic cotton bedding is soft, breathable and made for everyday comfort. I use Quince myself. I have some really lovely green gingham check sheets right now and I love them. I really recommend Quince because they work directly with ethical factories. Their products are priced 50 to 80% less than similar brands. Make your bed your favorite place to be this season with Quince. Download the Quince app for app exclusive offers or go to Quince.com slash Nothing Much. Get free shipping on your order and 365 day returns now available in Canada and the UK too. That's q-u-i-n-c-e. .com slash Nothing Much.

4:08So please get comfortable. And let your whole body relax into the bed. I'll be here keeping watch as you sleep. Take a deep breath in through your nose. Let it out your mouth. Nice one more. Breathe in. And out. Good. Autumn at the Inn. Part one. It came as a recommendation from a friend. I'd been going on a bit wistfully I'm sure. About missing the bright leaves and crisp sense of autumn.

5:09After living somewhere where the seasons barely budged throughout the year. It had its benefits. The sunshine and the months and months of warm weather. I got to spend a lot of evenings out on the deck. I went for beach walks. While many others in less friendly climbs were scraping ice from their windshields. And almost none of my paycheck went into a mitten budget. At every autumn I found myself longing for a chill in the air. A day to kick through fall and leaves. And feast on cider donuts. In fact, and I'd probably deny this if it got out.

6:18Things in the fall. I turned the air conditioner all the way up. Dressed in jeans. And my one flannel shirt. And I pretended. I had a few favorite movies. All set in September and October. And I'd watch them with a sweet cinnamon coffee in my hands. I'd pull the curtains tight to block out the sun. And the sight of my neighbors walking the sidewalks. And shorts and flip flops. I'd light a pumpkin candle and try to fool myself into feeling properly autumnal. And I guess that's what I would have done again this year.

7:22Except for the friend who'd clearly had enough of my lamenting. And slipped me a worn business card from his wallet. The card was simple, off white, creamy stock. Printed with faded dark green ink. The name of an inn. An address. A phone number. And a line drawing of an old stately building beside a lake. He said he'd visited years before and still thought about it. I ran my finger over the lines that made up the lake. And had a sudden image in my mind.

8:24Of geese flying overhead. Tall trees crowned in red and gold and orange. And a bench by the water. I'd prodded my friend a bit. What made this place special? What did he remember from his trip? Nothing much, he answered. Just that when I came back, I felt like my shelves had been restocked. Gosh, I'd love to go back. I guess that's why I've kept the card in my wallet all this time. I like just knowing that it's there. I asked him if he wanted the card back, but he shrugged and said I should keep it. I'd need it to call and make a reservation for a trip to go see the leaves change.

9:35I slipped it into my pocket and we went on to talk of other things. I actually forgot all about it until that night when I was changing for bed and found it. I set it down on my bedside table, propped against my lamp and went to brush my teeth. By the time I finally crawled into bed, it seemed too late to call. Maybe I thought I should sleep on it. Maybe it wasn't the right time for a trip. Maybe it was silly to travel so far just to stay at an inn and feel a bit of the fall air on my neck.

10:37But I couldn't sleep. I turned from side to side thinking about the 10 day forecast I'd checked before shutting things down for the night. Hot and sunny every day for the foreseeable future. Humid and unrelenting. I sat up and reached for the card. The moonlight snaking through my blinds, flinted off the ink. And again, I imagined those geese overhead, the bench by the water. I dialed the number, shaking my head a bit at my rashness.

11:40I fully expected to leave a message. I was sure there'd be no one at the desk at this time of night. But a quiet voice answered right away. Oh, hi. I stammered. I didn't think anyone would be up. Well, actually, I wasn't. But my cat got me up. He was mowing at the door and wouldn't stop till I came down to the office. And that's when the phone rang. That sounded like this might not have been the first time that had happened. I imagined her with a pen already in her hand. In a large desk calendar, spread out in front of her, ready to take my reservation.

12:40When would you like to come? She prompted. Oh, um, actually, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I just a friend passed me your card and I could kind of use a getaway. Of course, let me see. We just had a cancellation. And it's during peak color season. Does that sound good to you? What's perfect? She told me the dates starting in just a few days. And I was glad that it was enough time to plan and travel, but not enough to second-guess myself. She took my name and number. And we were just about to hang up when I stopped her.

13:44One last thing. What's your cat's name? She laughed quietly and said, sick of more. And I'm sure you'll get to meet him. He'll even sleep on your bed if you let him. After I'd hung up, I wrote the dates on the back of the end's card. And slid back down into my sheets. And the morning, I'd have a full list of to-do's. Travel plans and laundry. Pulling my suitcase out from the high shelf in the closet. And arranging to have the plants watered while I was gone. I'd need to do a bit of shopping for warm clothes. A good pair of sturdy shoes or boots to hike in.

14:47And my camera, it was ready to be picked up from the shop where it had been repaired. And even with all of that on my mind, as soon as I pulled the blanket up over my shoulder, I fell quickly and deeply asleep. I dreamt of a view from a window on an upper floor, looking out across the lake at a forest of vibrantly swathed trees. In the dream, I smelled the scent of coffee-cake. I'd heard a tinkling bell on a black cat's collar.

15:49There was a winding staircase and a long hallway lined with portraits that led to a porch full of tables set for breakfast. I smiled in my sleep. Part two. On the journey, I'd filled several pages of my journal. I wrote about the land flying past the train window. Green and yellow fields of sunflowers. Unrolling farmland, freshly plowed and dotted with haystacks. I wrote about a bevy of deer sitting calmly under a weeping willow.

16:57As the wind of the passing train tossed, drying leaves down on top of them. And I wrote about the lady who pushed the drinks cart up and down the aisle. Who'd had a story to tell, and nearly every stop we made. Did I know she'd been a pageant winner in her day? I chuckled as she poured my coffee and said, I didn't, but I'd love to hear about it. It had been long before she'd sold in cyclopedias door to door, but after she'd been mayor of that small town we'd passed as we crossed the trestle bridge over the river.

18:03I wondered if she wrote a whole new biography. Each time she boarded and stocked her cart. And if I wrote long enough, if I could become her archivist, tracking all the tales and noting how they crisscrossed like the routes of the trains themselves. Sometimes I wrote about myself. Little thoughts that didn't necessarily go anywhere, but felt good to express bigger thoughts that had been waiting for me to have the time to look them in the eye. I had a feeling that was behind the general wanderlust,

19:09that had spurred me to book a ticket on a room at the inn. I'd been spinning my wheels and needed a way to help them grab the earth again. And propel me forward. That and desperately craving a fresh apple cider and a walk in the spicy air under changing leaves and the harvest moon. I'd been sketching that moon onto the pages of my journal, not noticing that the train was slowing. When my friend at the drinks cart leaned in to tap me on the shoulder. Your stop is next year. Don't miss it.

20:11Oh, I'd spluttered. Um, thanks. I closed the book, snapping the elastic closure into place, and hurriedly pulled down my suitcase from the luggage rack. I'd bought myself a new jacket for this trip, with a soft, flannel lining and a hood in case it rained. I slid it on and zipped it up type. By the time the train chugged to a stop when the doors hissed open, I was standing ready behind them, ready for my autumn adventure. And I must have overpacked a bit.

21:16Too many pumpkin orange sweaters and thick socks, because I could barely shift my suitcase down the first step. A porter stepped over from the platform, grabbing it down in one hand, and helping me out with the other. Oh, how much it means when someone is kind to you, when someone helps you when you are traveling, when you are somewhere you have never been before. They must have read it on my face, because after he waved off my thanks, he asked if I needed help, if I had a ride waiting for me. I told him I was headed to the inn,

22:21and that they'd said they would send someone to pick me up. Did he know where their shuttle would be parked? He smiled a bit as he nodded, and guided me down the platform, to point through the open, high ceiling station, to the street beyond. Not really a shuttle, we take turns, whoever is going out that way. And today, I'd say you hit the jackpot, look for a station wagon, and a lady in an apron. Wouldn't be surprised if she's got a good bit of flower on her. I turned to look in the direction he pointed, not sure I understood,

23:22but when I turned back to him, he was already down the platform, lifting another case from the train. Well, it was supposed to be an adventure, wasn't it? On the street, just like he'd said, I found a station wagon, an old one, with those faux wooden panels on the sides, and vinyl bench seats, and the front and back. Standing at the open tailgate, shifting cases and crates, was indeed a woman in an apron. She smiled as I came around the car to her, and shook my hand, and a friendly and, yes, flowery way.

24:26She looked down at my lounge suitcase, and said, oh, good, I can fit that in the back seat. I thought I'd have to stack the pies, and I don't know how much you know about pies. She lifted the lower gate, and it locked into place, but they really shouldn't be stacked. Of course not, I said. It could crush the crust, and that's the best part. You get it, she nodded, and helped me load my case into the back seat. Once we were buckled in, she started up the old car, and we began to trundle down, when I guessed, was the main street, from this little village.

25:27There was an open bakery box on the seat between us, and she insisted I help myself to a cookie. If I'd been craving oatmeal raisin for ages, and the box was full of them, but they weren't just plain cookies. They were sandwiched together, around a generous spread of vanilla cream, like a stepped-up version of the kind I'd eaten from a cellophane package, after school as a kid. They were absolutely delicious, and for a few blocks, I was lost to anything, but the flavor and aroma of the treats.

26:34The baker asked a few questions. Was it my first time here? How long was I staying? And did I prefer apple crisp or apple turnovers? I answered in order. Yes, it was my first time, a week or so, and that I hoped I never had to make. Such a difficult decision. She pointed out a few places I might want to visit while I was here. Her bakery, of course. A cafe, without door tables, grouped around standing heaters, but glowed orangey red in the cool air. A stationary shop, if I filled up my journal,

27:37I needed a new one. And I need a new one no matter how many I have, I told her. There was a bookshop with a cozy reading nook built right into the front window. And a park with a newspaper kiosk at its entrance. The farmer's market was bustling with shoppers and stalls. And I could see that they had a whole section just for mums. As we wound our way out of town, I asked her what was taking her to the end today. She smiled and said she was delivering all those pies for the exhibit. And then helping Chef with a round of pickled rustle sprouts.

28:41Now I was the one with the questions. Exhibit? Chef? And most importantly, pickles? We turned down the long drive to the end, just as I was voicing all of these. But rather than answer, she pointed past the beautiful old home where I would be spending the next week. To the sliver of lake, visible through the trees, she began to crank her window down and I followed suit. Fresh lake air rushed in. When I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me, I could hear a wind high in the trees and waves on the surface of the water.

29:51My shoulders dropped and my jaw relaxed. No, I hadn't even been aware I'd been clenching it. No, I'd never been here before. But somehow it felt familiar. Like I was coming home. Part three. The jingle of the cat's collar woke me in the night. I'd been deeply asleep. Dreaming about train tracks, a bakery box full of cookies, and a lake with a family of ducks, tranquilly floating out its surface. But the bell on that collar was persistent.

30:55A rather, the cat it was attached to was. Cicamore and I had already become friends. He'd greeted me as soon as I stepped into the inn with my suitcase in hand. I'd been momentarily stunned by the grand curving staircase and the rich smell of varnished wood and eucalyptus. I'd set my case down and stepped up to the foot of the stairs, leaning against the banister to crane my neck and look up through the railings. I felt something soft slink around my ankle and with a start looked down to find a black cat

32:05with bright green eyes sitting beside my foot, playfully swatting at my shoelace, which had come undone. I stooped down to retire and said hello to the cat. I've learned to let animals show whether they welcome a pet or not, since as far as I am aware, they can't speak. I watched his movements and when he dropped his eyes and butted his small head against my leg. I took that as an invitation and reached out to scratch his ears.

33:05Just then we both heard a voice calling from somewhere far off. Cicamore, come on, we have a guest arriving any minute. The cat seers twitched, clearly listening and I whispered to him, are you Cicamore? He just stared into my eyes in that slightly unnerving way that cats sometimes do. Footsteps were coming closer down a long hallway from what must be the back of the inn. And I pushed myself up to standing. Oh, you're here, said this smiling woman who emerged from the hall.

34:06I saw Ben seeing Cicamore at my foot, said, and so were you. I'm the one who was missing. I liked her immediately and felt another layer of tension and burnout melt off my shoulders. Within a few minutes, I'd been given a key and shown up to my room on the second floor. I was invited to come down for some tea on the tour of the house and grounds when I was ready. And I was let in on the quote unquote Cicamore situation. The Cicamore situation, I asked.

35:07Yes, she said, with a small note of consternation in her voice that made me laugh just to hear it. A Cicamore takes his role as hospitality specialist very seriously and may try to look in on you during the night, you know, to make sure that you have everything you need. And to see if something you need might be a cat, I asked. Exactly, she said. We both looked down at Cicamore, who seemed to be following along with the conversation, just waiting for his turn to interject. He had butted my ankle again. The innkeeper reached for a paper placard hanging from a ribbon on the back of my room's door.

36:19There was a large black paw print inked onto one side of it. On the other, a classic, do not disturb message. With one word added, in large, block letters at the top, so that it read Cicamore, do not disturb. Paw print out means he's welcome. Otherwise, flip the message to the hall, and he will most likely leave you alone. I wasn't sure if she was serious. She looked serious. If this was a joke, she had a very reliable straight face. He can read, I asked.

37:19She waved her hand at me as if to say that it wasn't much to be impressed by, and said, only in English. Now, saddle in, and we'll see you later for some tea. And they both trooped out, and closed the door behind them. I'd still been chuckling to myself as I wandered over to the window, and looked out at a view that was truly breathtaking. The end sat on a small rise, and from my room, I could see the sloping lawns below, and the path that led to the lake.

38:20The lake was larger than I'd imagined. I could see the other side, but had to squint to make out the houses and docks there. Trees, so many trees, and they were turning all shades of yellow, orange, and red. I took several deep breaths to standing there, letting the comb of the world I was looking at, transfer into my body. I'd meant to unpack my suitcase, and immediately go down to the room, to check out the rest of the inn and the property. But the exhaustion I'd been pushing to one side suddenly engulfed me.

39:27I'd taken my finger out of the dam, and there was no walling it back up. I kicked off my shoes, and stretched out on the large soft bed. There was a blanket folded at its foot. One of those thick, incredibly soft, and heavy throws, and as soon as I pulled it up over me, I fell asleep. It had been late afternoon, when I'd arrived at the inn. Hours of daylight still had. But when I heard the bell, one sickamores collar,

40:28I'd finally pulled myself from the deep sleep I'd been in. It was pitch black outside. My sad up and bed, still in my traveling clothes, the blanket wrapped around me, and blinked into the dark, trying to remember where I was. Though confused for a moment, I felt safe. I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be, even if the exact details had escaped me. And I heard the bell again, and remembered,

41:28sickamore, the sign still hung on the back of my door, where the innkeeper had left it. He didn't know if I needed him, but by the steady ringing, and the small black paw, that was feeling around through the crack under my door. He had a pretty good idea. I struggled to my feet, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, and went to let him in. When I unlocked the door and opened it, I found him sitting on his haunches, looking up at me, purring loudly. Beside him in the hall was a cart with covered dishes and a note.

42:35I looked up and down the empty hall, and wondered how long it had sat out while I slept. I reached for the note, noticing the same dark green ink, but had been on the business card that led me to this wondrous place. I just said, thought you might be hungry. Still groggy, but feeling my stomach growl at the thought of food, I wheeled the cart into my room, ushered sickamore in behind it, and shut the door again. I switched on a lamp, and took a look at what had been set out for me.

43:37Under the covers was a basket of seedy rolls and crackers, and little sealed jars of spreads. There were two shining apples with a small pairing knife and a dish of peanut butter. Beside it was a porcelain cookie jar in the shape of an owl. That was full of dark brown molasses cookies. There was also a thermos full of some kind of herbal tea, chamomile maybe, and a jug of water. I rolled the cart over to the window seat, and crawled up on it in the moonlight. I poured a cup of the tea, which was still hot and steaming,

44:42and began to cut the apple into slices. When I shook out one of the cloth napkins, a little packet fell out, and sickamore jumped up beside me to sniff it. Cat treats? I think of everything here I whispered as I shook a few onto the sill. We ate together in the silence of deep night. When I changed into my pajamas, brushed my teeth, I crawled right back into bed. I wasn't nearly done catching up on my sleep. Sickamore hopped up beside me, and as I rolled onto my side,

45:44he curled up against my chest and began to purr. We talked an arm around him, and we fell asleep. Autumn at the end, part one. It came as a recommendation from a friend. I'd been going on a bit wistfully, I'm sure. About missing the bright leaves, and crisp sense of autumn, after living somewhere, but the seasons barely budged throughout the year.

46:45It had its benefits, the sunshine, and the months and months of warm weather. I got to spend a lot of evenings out on the deck. I went for beach walks, while many others, and less friendly climbs, were scraping ice from their windshields. And almost none of my paycheck went into a mitten budget. But every autumn, I found myself longing for a chill in the air,

47:47a day to kick through fallen leaves, and feast on cider donuts. In fact, and I'd probably deny this if it got out, sometimes in the fall, I turned the air conditioner all the way up, dressed in jeans, and my one flannel shirt, and pretended. I had a few favorite movies, all set in September and October, when I'd watch them with a sweet cinnamon coffee in my hands.

48:50I'd pull the curtains tight to block out the sun, and the sight of my neighbors, walking the sidewalks, and shorts and flip flops. I'd like to pump in candle and try to fool myself into feeling properly autumnal. And I guess that's what I would have done again this year, except for the friend who'd clearly had enough of my lamenting, and slipped me a worn business card from his wallet.

49:52The card was simple, off-white, creamy stock, printed with faded green ink, the name of an inn, and the address, a phone number, and a line drawing of an old stately building beside a lake. He said he'd visited years before, and still thought about it. I ran my finger over the lines that made up the lake, and had a sudden image in my mind of geese flying overhead,

51:02tall trees, crowned in red, and gold, and orange, and a bench by the water. I'd prodded my friend of it. What made this place special? What did you remember from his trip? Nothing much, he answered. Just that when I came back, I felt like my shelves had been restocked. Gosh, I'd love to go back. I guess that's why I've kept the card when my wallet, all this time.

52:05I like just knowing that it is there. I asked him if he wanted the card back. But he shrugged, and said I should keep it. I'd need it to call and make a reservation for a trip to go see the leaves change. I slipped it into my pocket. When we went on to talk of other things, I actually forgot all about it. Until that night, when I was changing for bed, I found it.

53:08I said it down on my bedside table, popped against my lamp, and went to brush my teeth. Right at time, I finally crawled into bed. I'd seemed too late to call. Maybe I thought I should sleep on it. Maybe it wasn't the right time for a trip. Maybe it was silly to travel so far, just to stay in an inn, and feel a bit of fall air on my neck.

54:10But I couldn't sleep. I turned from side to side, thinking of the 10-day forecast. I checked just before shutting things down for the night. Hot and sunny. Every day for the foreseeable future, humid and unrelenting. I sat up and reached for the card. The moonlight, the night, snaking through my blinds, blunted off the ink, and again, I imagined the geese overhead.

55:11The bench by the water. I dialed the number, taking my head a bit, at my rashness. I fully expected to leave a message. I was sure there'd be no one at the desk at this time of night. But a quiet voice answered right away. Oh, hi. Hi, my stammered. I didn't think anyone would be up. Well, I wasn't actually, but my cat got me up. He was mowing at the door, and wouldn't stop till I came down to the office. And that's when the phone rang.

56:13I had sounded like this might not have been the first time that had happened. I imagined her with a pen already in her hand. And a large desk calendar spread out in front of her. I'm ready to take my reservation. When would you like to come? She prompted. Oh, um, actually, I hadn't thought that far ahead. I just, a friend passed me your card. And I could kind of use a getaway. Of course. Let me see.

57:14We just had a cancellation. And it's during peak color season. Does that sound good to you? It's perfect. She told me the dates. Starting in just a few days. And I was glad that it was enough time to plan and travel, but not enough to second-guess myself. She took my name and number. And we were just about to hang up. When I stopped her, one last thing. What's your cat's name?

58:15She laughed quietly and said, sick of more. I'm sure you'll get to meet him. He'll even sleep on your bed if you let him. After I hung up, I wrote the dates on the back of the ins card. I'm slid back down into my sheets. In the morning, I'd have a full list of to-do's. Travel plans and laundry. Pulling my suitcase out from the high shelf in the closet. And arranging to have the plants watered.

59:15While I was gone. I'd need to do a bit of shopping for warm clothes. A good pair of sturdy shoes or boots to hike in. And my camera. It was ready to be picked up from the shop where it had been repaired. Even with all that on my mind. As soon as I pulled the blanket up over my shoulder. I fell quickly and deeply asleep.

1:00:19I dreamt of a view from a window on an upper floor. Looking out across the lake. And a forest of vibrantly swathed trees. In the dream, I smelled the scent of coffee cake. I heard a tinkling bell on a black cat's collar. There was a winding staircase. And a long hallway lined with portraits. I led to a porch full of tables. Sat for breakfast.

1:01:22I smiled in my sleep. Part two. On the journey, I'd filled several pages of my journal. I wrote about the land flying past the train window. Green and yellow fields of sunflowers. And rolling farmland. Freshly plowed. Undotted with haystacks. I wrote about a bevy of deer. Sitting calmly under a weeping willow. As the wind of the passing train.

1:02:26Tossed, drying leaves down on top of them. I wrote about the lady who pushed the drinks cart. Up and down the aisle. Who'd had a story to tell. And nearly every stop we made. Did I know she had been a pageant winner in her day? If I chuckled. As she poured my coffee. I'd said, I didn't. But I'd love to hear about it. It had been long before she sold in cyclopedias door to door.

1:03:31But after she'd been mayor of the small town we passed. As we crossed that tressal bridge over the river. I wondered if she wrote a whole new biography. Each time she boarded and stopped her cart. And if I rode long enough. Could I become her archivist? Tracking all the tails. And noting how they crisscrossed. Like the routes of the trains themselves. Sometimes I wrote about myself.

1:04:33Little thoughts. I didn't necessarily go anywhere. Bigger thoughts that had been waiting for me. To have the time to look them in the eye. I had a feeling they were behind. The general wanderlost. That had spurred me to book a ticket. And a room at the end. I'd been spinning my wheels. And needed a way to help them grab the earth again. And propel me forward.

1:05:33That and desperately craving a fresh apple cider. And a walk in the spicy air. Under changing leaves. In the harvest moon. I'd been sketching that moon. Onto the pages of my journal. Not noticing that the train was slowing. When my friend at the drinks cart. Weaned in to tap me on the shoulder. Your stop is next dear. Don't miss it. Oh, I'd spluttered. Um, thanks. I closed the book.

1:06:37Snapping the elastic closure into place. And hurriedly pulled my suitcase from the luggage rack. I'd bought myself a new jacket. Just for this trip. With a soft flannel lining. And a hood. In case it rained. I slid it on. And sipped it up tight. By the time the train. Chugged to a stop. And the doors hissed open. I was standing ready behind them. I was ready for my autumn adventure.

1:07:41I must have overpacked a bit. Too many pumpkin orange sweaters and thick socks. Because I could barely shift my suitcase. Down the first step. A porter stepped over from the platform. Grabbing it down in one hand. And helping me out with the other. Oh, how much it means when someone is kind to you. When someone helps you. When you are traveling. When you are somewhere. You have never been before. He must have read it on my face.

1:08:42Because after he waived off my banks. He asked if I needed help. If I had a ride. Waiting for me. I told him I was headed to the inn. And that they said they would send someone to pick me up. Did he know where their shuttle would be parked? He smiled a bit. As he nodded. And guided me down the platform. To point through the open. High ceiling to station. To the street beyond.

1:09:43Not really a shuttle. We just take turns. Whoever is going out that way. And today. I'd say you hit the jackpot. Look for a station wagon. And a lady in an apron. Wouldn't be surprised if she's got a good bit of flower on her. My turn to look in the direction he pointed. Not sure I had understood. But when I turned back to him. He was already down the platform. Wifting another case from the train. I mean. Well, it was supposed to be an adventure.

1:10:44Wasn't it? On the street. Just like he'd said. I'd found a station wagon. An old one. With those faux wooden panels on the sides. And vinyl bench seats on the front and back. Standing at the open tailgate. Shifting cases and crates. Was indeed a woman in an apron. She smiled as I came around the car to her. And shook my hand. And a friendly. Yes, flowery way.

1:11:45She looked down at my lone suitcase. And said, oh, good. I can fit that in the back seat. I thought I'd have to stack the pies. And I don't know how much you know about pies. She lifted the lowered gate and it locked into place. But they really shouldn't be stacked. Of course not, I said. It could crush the crust. And that's the best part. You get it. She nodded. And helped me load my case into the back seat. Once we were buckled in.

1:12:47She started up the old car. And we began to trundle down. What I guessed was the main street of this little village. There was an open bakery box on the seat between us. And she insisted I help myself to a cookie. I'd been craving oatmeal raisin for ages. And the box was full of them. But they weren't just plain cookies. They were sandwiched together. Around the generous spread of vanilla cream.

1:13:48Like a stepped up version of the kind I'd eaten from a cellophane package. After school as a kid. They were absolutely delicious. And for a few blocks. I was lost to anything. But the flavor and aroma of the treats. The baker asked a few questions. Was it my first time here? How long was I staying? And did I prefer apple crisp or apple turnovers? I answered in order.

1:14:51Yes, it was my first time. A week or so. And that I hoped I never had to make such a difficult decision. She pointed out a few places I might want to visit while I was here. Her bakery, of course. A cafe. Without door tables. Grouped around standing heaters. But glowed orangey red in the cool air. A stationary shop. If I filled up my journal. I needed a new one. My need a new one.

1:15:51No matter how many I have, I told her. There was a bookshop. With a cozy reading knuck. Built right into the front window. In a park. With a newspaper, Kiosk at its entrance. The farmer's market. Was bustling with shoppers and stalls. And I could see that they had a whole section just for mums. As we wound our way out of town. I asked her what was taking her to the end today. She smiled and said she was delivering all those pies.

1:16:52For the exhibit. And then helping Chef with a round of pickled Brussels sprouts. Now I was the one with the questions. Exhibit. Chef. And most importantly, pickles. We turned down the long drive to the end. Just as I was voicing all of these. But rather than answer. She pointed past the beautiful old home. Or I would be spending the next week. To the sliver of lake. Visible through the trees.

1:17:57She began to crank her window down. And I followed suit. Fresh lake air. Brushed in. And I closed my eyes. Letting it wash all over me. I could hear wind. High in the trees. Waves on the surface of the water. My shoulders dropped. And my jaw relaxed. Though I hadn't even been aware. I'd been clenching it. No, I'd never been here before.

1:18:59But somehow. It all felt familiar. Like I was coming home. Part three. The jingle of the cat's collar. Woke me in the night. I'd been deeply asleep. Dreaming about train tracks. A bakery box full of cookies. And a lake. With a family of ducks. Trinkily floating on its surface. But the bell on that collar was persistent.

1:20:05Or rather. The cat it was attached to was. Sikamur and I had already become friends. He'd greeted me. Assuming as I stepped into the end. With my suitcase in hand. I'd been momentarily stunned. By the grand curving staircase. When the rich smell of varnished wood. An eucalyptus. I'd set my case down. I'd stepped up to the foot of the stairs. Leaning against the banister.

1:21:09To crane my neck. And look up through the railings. I felt something soft. Slinging around my ankle. And with a start. Looked down. To find a black cat. With bright green eyes. Sitting beside my foot. Playfully swatting at my shoelace. Which had come undone. I stooped down to retire. And said hello to the cat. I've learned to let animals show. Whether they'd welcome a pat or not.

1:22:13Since. As far as I am aware. I can't speak. I watched his movements. And when he dropped his eyes. And butted his small head against my leg. I took that as an invitation. And reached out to scratch his ears. Just then. We both heard a voice. Calling from far off. Sikamore. Come on. We have a guest arriving any minute. The cat's ears twitched.

1:23:13Clearly listening. And I whispered to him. Are you sick more? He just stared into my eyes. And that slightly unnerving way. But cats sometimes do. Footsteps came closer. Down along hallway. From what must have been the back of the inn. And I pushed myself up to standing. Oh, you're here. Said the smiling woman. Who emerged from the hall.

1:24:15Ben. Seeing Sikamore at my foot. Said. And so are you. I'm the one who was missing. I liked her immediately. And felt another layer of tension. And burn out. Melt off my shoulders. Within a few minutes. I'd been given a key. And shown up to my room. On the second floor. I was invited to come down for some tea. And a tour of the house and grounds when I was ready.

1:25:16And I was let in on the quote unquote. Sikamore situation. The Sikamore situation. I asked. Yes, she said. With a small note of consternation in her voice. That made me laugh just to hear it. Sikamore takes his role as hospitality specialist. Very seriously. And may try to look in on you. In the night. You know, to make sure you have everything you need.

1:26:26And to see if something you need might be a cat. I asked. Yes, exactly. She said. We both looked down at Sikamore. Who seemed to be following along with the conversation. Just waiting for his turn to interject. He had butted my ankle again. The innkeeper reached for a paper placard. Hanging from a ribbon. On the back of my room's door. There was a large black paw print inked onto one side of it.

1:27:36And on the other. A classic. Do not disturb message. With one word added. And large block letters at the top. So that it read. Sikamore. Do not disturb. Paw print out means he's welcome. Otherwise, flip the message to the hall. And he will most likely leave you alone. It wasn't sure if she was serious. She looked serious. If this was a joke.

1:28:38She had a very reliable straight face. He can read. I asked. She waved her hand at me. As if to say that it wasn't much to be impressed by. And said. Only in English. Now. Settle in. And we'll see you later for some tea. And they both trooped out. And closed the door behind them. And still been chuckling to myself. As I wandered over to the window. And looked out at a view.

1:29:41That was truly breathtaking. The end sat on a small rise. And from my room. I could see the sloping lawns below. And the path, but led to the lake. The lake was larger than I'd imagined. I could see the other side. But had to squint. To make up the houses. And docks there. Trees. So many trees. And they were turning all shades of yellow. Orange and red.

1:30:46I took several deep breaths. Just standing there. Wedding the comb of the world I was looking at. Transfer into my body. I'd meant to unpack my suitcase. And immediately go down. To check out the rest of the inn. And the property. But the exhaustion. I'd been pushing to one side. Suddenly engulfed me. I'd taken my finger out of the dam. And there was no walling it back up.

1:31:50I kicked off my shoes. And stretched out. On the large soft bed. There was a blanket folded at its foot. One of those thick, incredibly soft. And heavy throws. And as soon as I pulled it up over me. I fell asleep. It had been late afternoon. When I'd arrived at the inn. The hours of daylight still ahead. But when I heard the bell.

1:32:52Uncicomor's collar. And finally pulled myself. From the deep sleep I'd been in. It was pitch black outside. I sat up in the bed. Still in my traveling clothes. The blanket wrapped around me. And blinked into the dark. Trying to remember where I was. Though confused for a moment. I felt safe. I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

1:33:56Even if the details had escaped me. Then I heard the bell again. And remembered. Sicomor. The sign still hung. On the back of my door. Where the innkeeper had left it. He didn't know if I needed him. But by the steady ringing. And the small black paw. That was feeling around. Through the crack under my door. He had a pretty good idea. I struggled to my feet.

1:34:57Pulling the blanket around my shoulders. And went to let him in. When I unlocked the door. And opened it. I found him sitting on his haunches. Looking up at me. Pering loudly. Beside him in the hall. Was a cart with covered dishes. And a note. I looked up and down the empty hall. And wondered how long. It had sat there while I slept.

1:36:04I reached for the note. No to seen the same dark green ink. But had been on the business card. But led me. To this wondrous place. It just said. Thought you might be hungry. Still groggy. But feeling my stomach growl. At the idea of food. I wheeled the cart. Into my room. A shard sickamorian behind it. And shut the door again.

1:37:04I switched on a lamp. Took a look at what had been set out for me. Under the covers. Was a basket of CD rolls. And crackers. And little sealed jars of spreads. There were two shining apples. With a small pairing knife. And a dish of peanut butter. Beside it was a porcelain cookie jar. In the shape of an owl. Full of dark brown molasses cookies. There was also a thermos of some kind of herbal tea.

1:38:08Camomile maybe. And a jug of water. I rolled the cart over to the window seat. I curled up on it in the moonlight. I poured a cup of tea. Which was still hot and steaming. I began to cut the apple into slices. When I shook out one of the cloth napkins. A little packet fell out. And sickamor jumped up beside me to sniff it. Cat treats. They think of everything here. My whispered.

1:39:11As I shook a few onto the sill. We ate together. In the silence of deep night. Then I changed into my pajamas. Brushed my teeth. And crawled right back into bed. I wasn't nearly done. Catching up on my sleep. Sickamor hopped up beside me. And as I rolled onto my side. He curled up against my chest. And began to purr. We talked an arm around him.

1:40:15And we fell asleep. Sweet dreams.