Unlikely Passengers

“Green light…” Matthew McConaughey's twangy Texan voice echoed through the black Jeep Wrangler as the four wheels sped down Highway 1 somewhere between Bixby Bridge and McWay falls. The audiobook perfectly filled the silence between its two unlikely and completely opposite (or so they thought) occupants. One would assume any person in the particular situation these girls were in would be talking as fast as the jeep was going — and they had been — until they realized how different they were.

Both females had wills as determined as the waves that crashed upon the Santa Lucia mountains: consistent and undaunted at the greatness of opposition. One was on the cusp of puberty, enjoying the last sweet echoes of childhood, and the other, pushing thirty, felt like she should have more of her life together. Both were searching for a red cypress tree in the middle of a pasture.

"I've heard of him. He's from 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days,' right?" Kat, the eleven-year-old, broke the non-verbal communication. 

"Yeah and ‘Interstellar’...which is before...or after your time," the older one, Katharine, informed the younger, although confused, herself. “Are you sure you came from the tree on the right side?" she asked. The younger girl nodded, indignant.

"Oh my gosh are you still second guessing me?!" she accused.

Katharine pulled out her phone. Kat did not like that.

"Why do you look at that so much? You're driving precious cargo,” she admonished, referring to herself. 

"It's not as easy as you think. They're addicting. Just wait until you’re older and download Candy Crush,” Katharine argued. "But I'm trying to GPS a way to get you back where you came from." 

"What's GPS?" Kat asked. This time, Katharine was too frustrated to respond.

The entire situation was unsettling, and not what the two girls had expected. If anything, each thought she’d found her most trusted friend in the world. Instead, both felt judged and afraid to speak. 

"Are you on the yearly camping trip with Dad?" Katharine asked a few moments later.

"Yeah,” Kat nodded, not noticing the way the words caught in the throat of the older girl. “You?”

"Something like that,” Katharine acknowledged.

The two lapsed again into silence. The jeep ascended the highway toward another spectacular view of the Santa Lucia mountains, rhythmically lashed by the Pacific Ocean. 

"You're different than I imagined,” Kat offered.

"Better, I hope,” Katharine joked. She wouldn't admit it, but she was largely insecure that she wasn't meeting the standards and expectations of this eleven-year-old.

"I'm not sure yet. I imagined you'd be really famous and married,” the young girl explained as she stared out the window toward the thirty foot drop-off. 

Katharine laughed in response. "Everyone tells me I tend to be brutally honest...and now I know what they mean!” Pondering her next words carefully, she dropped the snarky tone of her remarks and decided to get real with herself.

"I thought that, too. For awhile I felt like I was really disappointing myself." She paused and looked over at the young girl, full of idealism and hope. "But then I learned that fame is not the main goal of life. You’ll come to the same conclusion at around age twenty-four, when a life altering event occurs." The older girl kept her words equivocal because she didn't want to scare the younger.

Suddenly Katharine slammed on the breaks. "There!" she pointed to a red cypress tree in the middle of a pasture hugged up against the mountain.

“Yeah, that's it! But you can't leave me hanging. Did someone break up with you or something?" Kat teased, not permitting Katharine to be vague.

"No...I mean that stuff happened…or will happen.” Katharine’s words trailed off as a dawning realization washed over her, much the same way the waves continued to wash over the boulders below. "Actually, a lot of crappy stuff happened to me. That isn't to scare you. It's for you to know I didn't give up. I'm here. I realized I...we...have a strength deep inside of us. I've gotten wiser and I care about people. And I don't really care what you think or what your ideals of me may be. ‘Cause you don't really know. I'm proud of myself. And you'll be proud of me someday, too."

Katharine sat there stunned by her own words. She had never spoken so affirmatively about herself, and the best part was, she actually believed herself!

Kat stared at her a few moments before she opened her passenger door. 

"So, you just walk past the tree and you'll be back with Dad?" Katharine quizzed, trying not to feel disappointed that the younger girl hadn’t acknowledged her heartfelt monologue.

"I hope so. I mean that's how I got here,” Kat mumbled as she jumped out of the jeep. 

As the younger girl began to walk away, Katharine remembered back to when she had camped with her father in Big Sur. It was a yearly tradition that impacted the development of her character. She had never taken those trips for granted, but now in retrospect, she realized what an anchor they had been — until they were interrupted when she was twenty-four, at the sudden death of her father.

"Tell Dad I love him. I mean...YOU love him,” Katharine urged. This time Kat laughed. "It's confusing!”

The eleven-year-old began to walk into the pasture toward the red cypress tree. Abruptly she stopped and turned around:

"For what it's worth, I'm excited to grow up to be you."

Those words, like cold water to a dry throat, were healing to Katharine's soul. For so long she’d felt like she was letting down her past self, like she was a failure. This day, as the wind hollered around the mountains and the tourists took pictures of the ocean, she finally realized that her past self's ideals hadn’t contained the wisdom the years would give, to help define what true success meant, and a life well-lived.

"Thanks,” Katharine smiled. "But I don't think you really have a choice!”

Kat grinned and turned back toward the cypress tree.

"And don't get bangs! Trust me. Sixth grade will be a lot easier, and Tim McMillan will find someone else to pick on!” Katharine shouted.

Kat nodded, not fully understanding, but trusting her future self to guide her. Katharine watched as her younger self walked toward the cypress tree. The young girl's figure slowly became translucent and then disappeared in front of her eyes. Kat had gone back to the past.

Katharine pressed on the gas pedal and continued driving toward her campsite; she would continue her annual Big Sur trip in memory of her father. As she curved around the mountain she felt a new peace and freedom, at last accepting the beauty of who she had become.

"…Green light….” Matthew McConaughey's voice trailed off. Katharine felt a new green light in her own life, a sense that she was going in the right direction — even if it wasn't what her younger self had presumed.

Turning another curve, Katharine spied in the distance an old woman standing on the edge of another pasture, this time with two red cypress trees. The closer she got, the more familiar the woman looked.

Katharine slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road to see if the woman needed help.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Katharine?” the old woman ventured.

Katharine recognized that face: her own, engraved with lines from years, experiences, and new wisdom.

"Katharine?!” she returned, laughingly perplexed.

"Girl, have I got a lot to tell you!” the future Katharine exclaimed as she excitedly opened the jeep’s passenger door and stepped in.