After Everyone Left...

 The door creaked and the faint smell of dust and sweat hit Jason as he entered the empty room, a room where only two hours before was filled with screaming fans and tired athletes.

...also, shattered dreams.

Oh, what could have been...a million little things.

Jason shuffled through the doorway and scanned the room for the only thing that meant enough to the seventeen-year old for him to face the location of his short life's cruelest battle. After a moment, his eyes fixed upon the leather sphere, the weapon, the artillery, the bullet, the dagger that might as well have been still lodged in Jason's heart.

Just get my basketball and get out of here, he thought, a small feeling of solace after a night of humiliation. Exactly four hours earlier, Jason sat excited, his legs bouncing up and down waiting for the introductions of him and his teammates. He'd waited all year to play his cross-town rivals, a team that beat them last year. Now, unlike last time, the game would be played in his gym, at Jason's house. 

Time for revenge.

Exactly two hours ago, the buzzer sounded as Jason and a thousand others watched Jason's lucky basketball sail through the air as time expired, only the game of Jason's dreams turned out to be a nightmare. After the shot, Jason put on a brave face, congratulated the other team while consoling his teammates, friends, fellow soldiers. The upbeat mood was part act, part sincere. As far back as he could remember, Jason followed the admonition of his father, "A true champion is neither a sore winner or loser. If you can't be both, don't even bother playing."

Jason and his team left the court, showered, dressed, laughed at lame jokes (the jokes were always better after a win...), and left with everyone else. He walked home, living only three doors down from the school. It wasn't until he started his already-ignored homework that he remembered the basketball. 

Better go get it, he thought.

He'd walked the walk hundreds, even thousands of times, to and from school, to and from practice. Tonight as he walked Jason replayed the game over and over in his mind, focusing mostly on the last ten seconds. Had the shot he took with 7.4 seconds left gone in, they win the game. Had he or any of his teammates rebounded the ball, they win the game. Neither happened and the other team's worst shooter got lucky at the other end. It stung. It will sting for a while.

Jason picked up the ball, the leather sheen once covering the no longer new ball already starting to wear. He twisted it in his hands, once, twice, three times. He bounded the ball, once, twice, three times. He looked at the other end of the court where it all came down to a million little things, the slightest pressure as it left his hands, jumping increasingly higher as he jumped...so many things.

He thought about walking to the exact spot where he took the shot and trying one more time to see if this time, the ball would go in.

He then changed his mind.

Nah, he thought. There'll be time to practice that shot again later. He had a paper to write...better get home.

"Don't Mess With The Seagulls"...An Old Man Foster Story

 "Let me tell you something, sonny," the old man said, his frail finger shaking as he wagged it in our young faces. "You don't mess with the seagulls."

My friend Steve snickered, almost making me bust up, too. But, I kept it together. The five of us straddled our bikes. I still don't know why we stopped at Old Man Foster's house, a broken-down structure marking the point where the paved road ended and the dirt road began. 

But we stopped for some reason and Old Man Foster came out to shout at us...again.

"I'm serious, man," he said, a drop of spittle rolling down his unshaven face. "You boys think you're smart chasing the seagulls on your little bikes, but let me tell you--you'll be sorry if you do."

I looked at my friends, their twelve-year old faces looked back at me, as if they wanted me to be the group's spokesman. I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea what to say.

"Mr. Foster, we weren't chasing any seagulls. I mean, they can fly--there's no way we'd catch them." I thought my answer was a good one. It made sense to me.

"That's the problem with you damn kids," Old Man Foster said swatting his hand as if dismissing us with a simple wave. "I saw you riding--I see you everyday riding your bikes up and down this street like you own the place. I've even seen you ride across my yard."

I looked at everyone to see if that was true because I knew I had never done that. They all shook their heads. When I turned back around Old Man Foster's eyes blazed fire and hate.

"Oooohhh yes--I seen you, and I know it was you. You chasing all the animals, cats, dogs, squirrels, all of them. You don't think anyone sees you doing it, but I do. I see everything."

I didn't know if we should just hop on our bikes and peddle away, but I wanted to know why he was yelling at us and why this man who must have been close to ninety-years old was worried about seagulls.

"Mr. Foster," I said. Thinking back I tried to be sincere. "We weren't trying to catch or mess with the seagulls, really." Old Man Foster didn't seem impressed. Then I got a little snippy. "And even if we did, why is messing with a couple of birds such a big deal anyway?"

Foster sighed and shook his head. He then stared us down with a look that sent a jolt up my spine. "You mess with the seagulls, you'll be sorry. No joke. When you see a flock of them birds flying, you don't follow them, you don't even look at them. If you do, there's nothing but bad luck--and I'm talking evil--things are about to happen. I've lived on this earth long enough to know what I'm talking about. You listen to me and listen good--you don't mess with the seagulls."

He stood before us on those frail legs, slightly swaying left and right. He looked at each of us to as if daring us to betray his authority. None of us spoke. I looked at my friends. Steve rolled his eyes, but I knew he was all talk.

"Okay, Mr. Foster. We'll turn around and stop messing with the birds. Thank you for telling us about them. I...we didn't know what would happen. Thank you."

We turned our bikes from his house and started peddling away.

"Man, that old fart don't know anything," Steve said. I agreed, but something in the back of my mind gnawed at me. What if he was right? I thought it was stupid to mess with birds...we never could get close enough to do anything to them...

But, what if he was right?

I didn't say anything to Steve, didn't say anything to any of them. We just all went home. I didn't find out until later that Steve left his house after the streetlights came on and rode past Old Man Foster's house on his bike. I can only imagine he was flipping off Old Man Foster the bird as he passed. 

They found Steve's bike the next day, but they never found Steve. He disappeared. The police asked each of us if we thought we knew where he was...we didn't know. They even asked Old Man Foster, or so we were told. To this day, that look on Steve's face when he rolled his eyes haunts me. 

Years ago, I moved away from my home town, but every few years I'd return to visit my parents and friends. The dirt road is paved and lined with homes. Old Man Foster's shack was demolished a year or two after he shook his boney finger at us and warned us of the flying evil that awaited us if we messed with the seagulls.

It's something I never did again in my life.

Closing Time...Chapter 7...Conclusion

This is a continuation of a story began October 1, 2019. Find the first of the story on the right side of the page to read the story from the beginning.

Chapter 7 Conclusion

Bret opened the door.

Amber didn't know what surprised her more, that Bret was not only alive, but well enough to drive his car to the police station, or that Todd--who only moments before was a black mist--flew into the police station. How could any of this even be happening?

Bret limped over to where Amber still lay on the ground.

"Are you okay?" he said as he bent down to help her up. Amber saw him grimace in pain.

"I am," she said. "Don't know if I can say the same thing about you."

"I'm okay," Bret said as Amber rose, her doing most of the lifting.

After standing on both feet, she said, "And what kind of a stunt was that? Gunning your green Land Rover directly at me?" A smile hoped she conveyed the right tone. In no way did she want to chid him after he saved her life.

"Oh, an athlete like you?" Bret smiled back. "I knew you'd get out of the way in time."

On an impulse, Amber hugged the man a good foot taller than herself. She heard a soft grown as Bret hugged her back. 

"I'm so sorry," Amber said breaking the hug after realizing he was still in pain. She looked up and realized it was his turn to blush.

"Come on--let's get out of here. I have no idea if we did anything at all to that guy."

As quickly as possible the pair jumped in Bret's running car. He put it in reverse and it rolled backwards. The headlights illuminated the smashed front of the police office. Both Amber and Bret instinctively looked at the building.

Todd appeared in the light.

"Bret?" Amber said, her voice unsteady.

"I see him." Bret stopped the car and waited to see what Todd did.

They didn't have to wait long.

In an instant Todd sprang high into the air and flew directly at the car. Amber screamed. Bret threw open the door and jumped out. He quickly opened the back door and drew out a baseball bat. Amber screamed again as Todd began his descent. As he fell, Bret slammed the bat on the pavement--Amber heard a crack. He then drew back the bat, waiting.

From inside the car, Amber watched as a look of pure rage on Todd's face changed to paralyzing fear. He headed straight for Bret who wound the bat back as if he were about to hit a game-winning home run to end the world series.

Amber buried her head in her hands--she couldn't bear to see what happened.

She didn't see it, but she definitely heard the sound of the bat connect with Todd. She screamed again.

Then, nothing...silence.

The next sound she heard was Bret opening the driver's side door. Amber finally looked up.

"Is it over?"

"Yeah, it's over."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. That guy's not going to threaten you again. He's not going to do anything ever again."

Bret backed up the car then drove out of the parking lot. Amber couldn't bring herself to look back. The two rode in silence. After a moment, curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "You said back there, you were sure it was over. How do you know? I mean, the guy could change into a black cloud."

"Well," Bret said as he drove through the empty streets. "As I drove over here from the gym, I kept thinking about what in the world this guy could be. I knew he wasn't human, that's for sure. I thought maybe he was a vampire. So, when he was flying toward me, I knew I needed to find a wooden stake. I grabbed the bat and  tried to make it as sharp as possible by hitting the ground. Luckily, the bat split right down the center, giving it a nice blade..."

"No, you didn't?" Amber said, shocked.

"Sure did--the bat cut right into his heart. I'm glad you weren't watching. It wasn't pretty."

Amber wondered where they were going. It was soon evident as Bret pulled into the hospital parking lot as the first orange hues of morning rose in the eastern sky. They probably both needed to be checked out.

Amber hurried and helped Bret out of the car and into the E.R. waiting room. As they approached the desk, Amber said, "Wait--I thought you said you played football."

"I didn't get a chance to tell you, I was high school All-American in baseball, too."

Closing Time...Chapter 6

This is a continuation of a story began October 1, 2019. Find the first of the story on the right side of the page to read the story from the beginning.

Chapter 6

She felt her lift force ebb away.

Amber fell, first to her knees, then her whole body lay on the cold cement of the police station parking lot. The black fog continued to surround her. Somehow the blackness contained Todd's essence, and what she felt raised questions in her mind. This wasn't the Todd she knew, the slightly quirky co-worker at the restaurant. This was an old soul, a troubled soul, an evil soul.

The thought that this awful person would prove the cause of her demise made her mad. She didn't know how, but she refused to allow this creep to win, even if she had to die in the process.

There was no way he was going to win.

"Get off me, you damned creep!" Amber screamed.

Something happened. Something changed.

The darkness that held her down lifted, and for the first time in what seemed like ages, Amber drew in a huge breath.

"I said, get off!"

Finally, Todd released her. His form rose then re-appeared before her, back where he once stood. Slowly, Amber pushed herself up from the ground. She stared up at Todd, no longer afraid of who or what he was.

"What's wrong, Todd?" Amber said. "Didn't you say it was time for me to go? Why don't you finish me off? You too scared, or weak?" Amber continued rising. She now stood on shaky legs before her adversary.

"Shut up," Todd said.

After a moment's silence, Amber said, "Shut up? That's all you got--shut up?" Amber took a step toward Todd.

"Man, you're even more pathetic than I thought you were" She took another step. "I'm going to ask you again--what's wrong, Todd?"

Amber saw disgust and hate on Todd's face. She wondered why he didn't just attack her like he did Bret. Maybe he couldn't, but if not, what was stopping him?

The two stood facing each other, Amber not knowing what to say, not knowing why Todd wouldn't do something, or at the very least, say something.

They both heard the car before the headlights illuminated both of them. The vehicle's tires squealed as the car turned from the city street into the parking lot. Whoever was driving was aiming their car directly at the two, and he wasn't slowing down.

Amber noticed the headlights were higher off the ground than a regular car. This must be an SUV. As it came closer, Amber jumped to avoid it crashing into her. She landed on the hard cement and rolled. Todd didn't move. The SUV hit Todd and sent him flying into the glass doors of the police station. The driver locked up the wheels and a green Land Rover slammed to a stop.

Bret opened the door.

Closing Time...Chapter 5

This is a continuation of a story began October 1, 2019. Find the first of the story on the right side of the page to read the story from the beginning.

Chapter 5

Todd stepped out.

Amber froze. Her body unable to move--her brain whirled at a thousand miles per hour.

"Todd?" she managed to say.

"Yes, Amber?"

"What are you...how did you...Todd?"

Todd walked down the stairs toward her. "Dear, you must have a million questions right now in the pretty little head of yours."

His voice disgusted her. Still paralyzed with fear, him calling her dear and saying he head was pretty (even though she herself sometimes considered her head little) enraged her. Instead of running back to her car, she felt like running toward him and kicking him in the mid-section.

But she remained where she stood. Todd continued toward her.

"Now, Amber. I can't believe you ran off like that at the parking lot. If I'm being honest, that hurt my feelings."

Todd stopped five feet from where Amber stood. Though a bright light from the police station shown directly behind Todd, hiding all his features showing her nothing but his silhouette, she saw his eyes shine through. She saw his deep blazing red eyes.

"Don't you touch me, Todd," Amber said, her voice more steady than she imagined it could be under the circumstances. "You do, and I'll--"

"You'll do what?" Todd interrupted. The oily sweetness in his voice only moments before vanished, replaced by distain, anger.

"You'll do what? Run off again? Go ahead--try it. You saw what I can do, didn't you? You saw me take care of that pretty hunky-boy thing you were flirting with."

Todd took a step toward Amber. She didn't flinch. Todd stopped, as if prevented by an unseen force.

"You did that to Bret?"

"So, you and pretty boy are on a first-name basis?"

How dare he? Amber thought, now madder than before. She took a step toward Todd.

"You pig!"

She no longer cared about her safety and she made sure Todd knew exactly how she felt.

"Amber, I'm getting tired of both this conversation, and of you."

"Help!" Amber screamed. "Help! Someone--anyone, please help!" Amber hoped someone inside the police station would hear her and come out to see who was screaming bloody murder right in front of their office.

"Oh, please," Todd said and lowered his outstretched hand. Instantly, no sound came from Amber's throat. She knew she was still screaming, but nothing came out. She put her hands to her throat--it didn't help.

"No one inside can hear you. In fact, no one in there will hear anything ever again."

Amber stopped her silent screams.

"My dear, it's time for you go to."

Instead of walking toward her, Todd's body transformed into a black cloud that slowly rose then directly descended over Amber, engulfing her, choking the will to live from her. She felt her life force ebb away.

Closing Time...Chapter 4

This is a continuation of a story began October 1, 2019. Find the first of the story on the right side of the page to read the story from the beginning.

Chapter 4

He never made it.

Amber watched Bret pick up his gym bag, then the light filtering through the sunroof of her Subaru went out, then returned. A black shadow flew directly over her car and raced straight at Bret. Amber watched in horror as the tall man was tackled to the ground, his gym bag flew through the air and hit the side of his Land Rover.

Amber's whole body began to shake. She looked out the passenger side window and saw Bret lying on his side, five feet from his truck. The black mist that attacked Bret rose from the body and hung in midair. 

Amber jammed the transmission into reverse and let out he clutch. 

The car lurched backward, tired squealing.

She jumped on the brakes, then threw the car into first gear and stomped on the gas. The front wheels spun and screamed in the cool night air. Amber looked in the rearview mirror to see if Bret moved, or showed any sign of life.

He did not.

"Get to the police station...get to the police station," Amber said to herself as she raced her Japanese import through the nearly deserted streets of the city. By her calculation, she had another three blocks to go. "Get to the police station." There was another reason why she kept repeating the same thing over and over--to take her mind off of several facts--one, the charming man she was just talking to may be dead, and two, she had no idea what in the world killed him, if he were actually dead.

Two blocks. Amber gunned the engine. She prayed a cop would see her and pull her over, then she could tell her insane story to the police all the sooner. Another turn--no cops. Why, she asked herself as Amber fought to keep all four almost-new tires on the pavement, why, when your harmlessly roll through a stop sign when absolutely no other cars are even close is a cop waiting on the other side of the street ready to pull you over and give you a ticket, but when you're flying through town, escaping a confessed killer and another unknown force may (or may not) have killed another man there's not a policeman in sight?

Maybe she should roll through the next four-way stop, then a cop would show up.

No need...she arrived.

Amber slammed on the brakes. Her car skidded to a stop a few feet from the police station's front doors. Through heavy breaths Amber realized her fingers were clenched around the steering wheel with such force, they'd turned white.

She made it.

Safe, at last.

Amber killed the engine, and jumped from her seat. She raced around the car when the door to the police station opened. She thought it would be a cop.

She was wrong.

Todd stepped out.

Closing Time...Chapter 3

Closing Time...Continued from the previous two blog posts

Amber screamed.

"Hey." Someone outside her car knocked again. "Are you okay?"

Amber stared at the window, positive she'd see Todd's haunting grin looking back at her. A stranger peered back at her.

"Miss, miss? Are you okay?" a man said.

Amber sat, confused at the events around her. She scanned outside to see if Todd had somehow appeared. She then feared for this man's life.

"Run!" Amber screamed at the window.

"What?" he said.

"Get out of here! There's a killer chasing me!"

Amber saw confusion on the man's face change to first surprise, then resolve. 

"Where?" The man asked looking up to where Amber had just been.

"I don't know, but you'd better get out of here." For a moment, Amber forgot about her own safety and focused on someone she didn't even know. "Hurry--there's a killer out there!"

Amber saw the man move away from the car. He scanned the parking lot, even walking around the car, alert. She also noticed his size--huge, probably a football player, or used to be. His blond hair and wide shoulders exuded confidence. Just watching him Amber felt safer. She started her car. The man knocked again, this time on the driver's side window.

"I don't see anyone. Whoever it was must have left."

Amber lowered her window.

"Maybe, but I'm leaving and I think you should, too."

"I was walking to my car from the gym and I saw you sprinting, like the devil himself was after you. Girl, you're fast."

Even as scared as she was, Amber felt the blood rush to her cheeks. From the stranger's reaction, she Amber knew he saw her blush.

"Uh, thanks. I used to run track--probably broke my personal one-hundred meter sprint back there. Too bad no one timed it," Amber said, her words met with a chuckle."

"Track, huh? Me, too. Decathlon."

Figures, Amber thought.

"But I'll bet you never sprinted and caught your flying keys at the same time before." The man placed his large forearm on the hood of the Subaru. He peered into the car and smiled.

Beautiful smile.

"Ha...you saw that?"

"Yup--first-rate catch there. Real Sports Center stuff, there."

Amber smiled back. She felt her face grow hot again, but didn't care. For a moment, all memory of Todd and his evil grin disappeared.

"I think I need to get to the police station." Amber knew she should leave, but the attraction she felt for this man was undeniable.

"Good idea. Tell you what, I'll follow you in my car. You know where the police station is?"

"On Maple."

"Right. I'm in the green Land Rover. I'll be right behind you."

"Thank you...um--"

"Bret," he said. Bret Simmons."

"Thank you, Bret Simmons." 

Bret nodded and jogged to his car. Amber followed him as he picked up a his gym bag on the way. He had obviously dropped it help her out.

"Land Rover..." Amber said to herself as she watched him go.

Amber put the car in reverse and glanced over at Bret to watch him climb into his green Land Rover.

He never made it.

Closing Time...The Story Continues

Continued from yesterday's blog post...

Amber turned and ran toward her car as fast as she could.

"Stay calm," Amber said between breaths, her lungs burning, her mind racing. "Don't look back...stay calm...don't look back...get to the car...Get To The Car...GET TO THE CAR!"

A million thoughts echoed in her skull as she got closer and closer to the Subaru. Amber ran track in high school, a sprinter. She knew she was fast, but she also knew most boys could beat her, even on the JV squad. Even though Todd was older and didn't appear to be into staying fit, let alone running, she knew if he wanted to, he'd probably catch her before she reached the car, and then...

"Get to the car!"

Amber dug into into the front pocket of her jeans grabbing frantically for her keys. Got em--she yanked her hand out and the keys went flying in front of her, light from a solitary street light glinted off the Disneyland keyring she bought just last year. Mickey's smile mocked her fear. Thankfully, the keys flew forward and hung in the air in front of her. All thoughts vanished as the petit brunette focused solely on catching the keys. If they hit the ground, it could literally cost her life.

The keys descended and fell into her outstretched hand. She caught them without slowing down.

Twenty feet to the car--she just might live through this nightmare.

Instinctively, her thumb moved to the button on the key fob that unlocked the door. The clicking sound of the doors unlocking synced perfectly with the flashing of the car's parking lights. Two clicks, two flashes. At least she wouldn't have to unlock the door.

Ten feet.

Five feet.

"Stay calm, don't look back."

She slammed into the side of the car not wanting to slow down for even a microsecond. She broke two fingernails as her left hand grabbed for the handle. She pulled it back, the door flew open, the force she used caused the door to reach its apex and fly back into her, hitting her in the side.

Amber felt nothing. She jumped in the car and reached for the door as it began to open a second time.

She caught the inside handle and pulled with all her strength. The power of the slamming door carried with it cool night air causing a small pressure imbalance in her ears. Amber quickly hit the automatic door lock and the reassuring click rang throughout the cabin. The only sound remaining was her heavy breathing, mixed with a high wheeze as her lungs pumped air in and out, in and out.

Safe.

Though, she wasn't truly safe until she was as far away from Todd as possible. For the first time, she looked back to the corner where only seconds earlier she stood with Todd. She expected to see him charging after her, even though she never heard any footsteps or sounds coming from him.

She saw...nothing. No charging killer, no murderous co-worker standing at the corner. At the very least, she expected to see him, somewhere.

He disappeared.

Somehow not knowing where Todd was caused more fear to seep into Amber's mind. She had to get out of there and she had to do it now. 

The keys were still in her shaking hand. She tried unsuccessfully to inset the key into the ignition, but the shaking prevented her from making contact. She took one deep breath and blew out the air. The simple act allowed her to focus on putting the key into the ignition.

Now, all she had to do was start the car and get the hell out of there.

She turned the key.

A knock came on the passenger's side window.

Amber screamed.

If A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words...What Story Can You See In This One?

Years ago, after graduate school, I found a a couple of blogs that held a weekly challenge. The challenge was to create a story using a picture (that they chose...) and the story must incorporate five randomly-generated words (that they, too, chose...). I wrote so many stories on those sites. 

Here were the rules:

1) Use the photo and five randomly-chosen words in your story.

2) Keep your word count 500 or less (or a few more words if they're needed...).

3) You have until next Tuesday night to link up your story.

4) Use the Blue Link to add your story at Leanne's, or Tena's websites--follow the instructions.

5) Have fun, don't stress, and let those creative juices flow!

I think I submitted stories to their sites for a couple of years. I had a lot of fun coming up with stories. Truth be told, the exercise gave me a way to write a blog post without me having to thing up something (sometimes the blog post ideas are a little tough to come up with when you write daily...). 

There used to be three or four women that hosted the challenge, then it went to two, and finally, they just stopped. We all sort of faded away, as did our words, and stories. I miss it. Of course, there's nothing stopping me from doing this myself. I even wrote a couple of stories after it all shut down using the same rules. But it wasn't the same.

Last week I went to lunch at an amazing restaurant. There were so many things to photograph there--I could have spent a full day at the restaurant just taking pictures. One shot in particular I especially liked and it reminded me of the weekly writing challenge I used to love so much.

So, I'm throwing it out there! The picture's above and the five randomly-chosen words are:

Parent

Candle

Playground

Headline

Riot

Great list!

If you want to play along, write a short flash fiction story and post the link of where we can all read it in the Comments section. We'll say the deadline is a week from today--500 word limit. I think I might get in on the action as well.

But not tonight.

I'm too tired.

Happy writing!!

Leaving Home...A Flash Fiction Story

She killed the engine. The already packed car sat idling for several minutes before she turned the key. The aging Toyota sputtered, then died. She thought she should say a prayer—she’d definitely need any help she could get.

Looking west out the passenger-side window she peered down a long back alleyway and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. That alley—it’s where she played hide-and-seek as a child, where she rode bikes as a tween, and where she snuck in after curfew as a teenager. The alley way knew her secrets, her dreams, her joys, her fears…it knew her.

And she was leaving the alleyway and the only life she’d ever known behind.

What if they hate me at college? she wondered. What if I don’t fit in? She was so excited when the letter came from Stanford. She screamed with excitement as shaking hands held the letter of acceptance, but now, the shy Idaho-born-and-bred girl of migrant farmers wondered if she could make the grade—literally.

I should call Mom—no, it’s time for the lunchtime rush. And, she thought, they’d said their goodbyes that morning before her mother left for work. Besides, sh remembered, she’ll be home for Thanksgiving—only three months away. Oh how she wished she could say goodbye to her father, but a drunk driver make that an impossibility.

Her dad…in all the excitement, she hadn’t even thought of him. All the preparations, the packing, getting the car ready for the trip—she had forgotten about her dad.

The girl glanced down the alleyway one more time, took a deep breath, and fired up the trusty engine. She’ll swing by the cemetery on the way out of town. After all, it’s only a few minutes out of her way.