The Wave by Kristen Crusoe (smallest ebook reader txt) 📕

to do when facing certain, imminent death. Ladies from the support group had talked about the list, as they called it. The ‘to dos’ for those last days.

Molly had described rushing all over town buying Christmas presents even though it was still before Thanksgiving. Vicki had said she refused to think about it or talk about it. She and her husband were going to Mexico for a month in their casita. ‘After the girls finish their volleyball season,’ she had said, ‘like always.’ Naomi had counseled them all that there wasn’t a right or wrong way to feel. Clair hadn’t paid much attention at the time, certain that she would not fall into the category of being one of them, the terminal ones.

And now, thinking back to the previous twenty-four hours, her reaction was so unlike herself, that she felt uninhabited. As though some extraterrestrial being had taken over her mind and body. Normal Clair would have recorded a final lecture for her students. Would have signed off on her students’ theses, handing them off to another professor to continue on with. Before Clair needed to have all of her affairs in order, lists made, details checked off. This Clair, she smiled to herself, couldn’t give a damn. Let the world slip by. Like a thought, a wisp of daylight breaking through the early dawn, she felt insubstantial and porous. And it was OK.

As the Porto scenery flashed past, the broad river running through the center, the vast ocean to the west, excitement began filling her senses, replacing the fear and dread she had felt earlier. Letting go of the anger and blame, in her dream or in reality with Michael, had lifted a heavy weight from her heart. Clair felt her phone vibrate, again. It had been almost non-stop since she took it off airplane mode at landing. Adam. Jet. Ben. Jodie. Even Naomi, the oncology social worker. They had all been calling. Mostly Adam. Later, she would text, let them know she was safe. For now, she wanted this time just to herself. She turned the phone off, watched the landscape take shape around her.

As she stepped from the taxi in front of a city park, Clair had no idea what to do next. She had asked the taxi driver to take her to the Albergue de Peregrinos Porto, a place she had learned about from a pilgrimage app she had downloaded onto her phone. There, she could rest, eat, and receive guidance on the Camino.

He had pulled over and pointed her into the maze of old buildings, cafés with gardens flowing out onto the sidewalks. Feeling a sense of overwhelming disorientation and dizziness, she leaned against a wall, feeling the cool, ancient stone beneath her palm. Standing still, pressing her back up against the wall, she watched as groups and singles walked purposefully down the street. They seemed to know where they were going, so she joined them, following the human compass through the narrow, twisting, cobbled streets, learning to be at home in this journey, trusting others and herself to find the way to wherever she needed to go. Sensing a presence to her side, she looked, but saw only shadows. Ahead, a man’s shoulders, a turn of head. Michael? Her heart quickened.

A pair of large wooden doors opened into a small office, staffed by a single woman, her age unknowable. Clair filed in behind a line of people. Pilgrims, like herself, she concluded, feeling a connection. Uncertain what was going to happen when she reached the destination, but as in elementary school, knowing the best thing was just to keep her place in line, a few inches distant from the body in front of her. It was a large male body, the backpack reaching over the man’s head. Looking around, she noticed everyone carried some sort of pack, many with tightly rolled up sleeping mats tied beneath.

Realizing how completely unprepared she was, she decided her first action in the morning would be to get outfitted. When she arrived at the counter, she answered a few questions, was given a Pilgrim Passport, and invited to select a shell from the tray of scallops next to the counter. They were all similar in size and shape, some slightly more battered and scarred. She found one that had marks where tiny sea creatures had made their homes in the shell, feeling close to it, close to its watery life, both in and out of the sea. Her eyes filled with gratitude at this kindness. It was as though she had stepped through an opening into another universe, where being human fulfilled the original meaning of the word, humanitas, and to be civilized meant to be kind.

A group of five women, traveling together from Wisconsin she learned, adopted Clair, shepherded her through the hostel to a dormitory type room with six bunks, metal frames, thin mattresses. The women chattered all at once, their voices like starlings circling the sky at the end of a long day. Clair relaxed into the sounds, feeling at home, like an orchestra tuning up before a concert. She was content to listen, not trying to discern any specific voice or story. Just simply being. Once settled in, the women rummaged through their collective bags and offered her an assortment of warm clothes, including socks and underwear. Shoes, they had told her, would have to be purchased first thing in the morning. They were most important because a blister could cause infection and rot. A rainproof parka would also be a requirement, one of the women, Maggie, read from her guide-book.

After dinner, served family-style in the albergue’s dining room, they all settled in for the night, friendly jostling, games of rock paper scissors to see who claimed the top bunks. Clair was content to be on a bottom bunk, her belly filled with hot soup, wine, and bread, her heart warm with friendship. She turned her body away from the group to slip into a