The driver’s license exam is only given one day a week. It’s another of the 4,724 reasons I want to escape this town.
Hamilton’s mother leads me back into the kitchen, encouraging me to sit and enjoy my tea. She fixes a glass and joins me at the table. My eyes squint as they follow the slow movement of her hand pushing a blue envelope toward me.
“What’s this?”
“All I know is Hamilton asked me to pass this to you after he left today.” Her warm smile and brown eyes remind me of her son. I fear everything will remind me of him in the months to come.
I cannot contain my excitement as I open the flap and pull a card from the envelope. Bright flowers shine on the front as I read, “Roses are red. Violets are blue.” I open the card, anxiously awaiting Hamilton’s parting words of wisdom for me. Inside, I find a black sharpie has crossed out the printed words, and I spot his handwriting underneath. “I have planned a scavenger hunt for you.” My brow furrows as I attempt to understand the words I read.
“Well?” his mother prompts. “What does it say?”
“I guess he planned a scavenger hunt for me.”
As she laughs out loud, she points to a royal blue gift bag on top of the refrigerator. My name graces the gift tag in large black letters. I hop from my chair and bring the bag back to the table. I look to Memphis questioningly before I peek in the top of the bag. I pull out the notecard. I smile at Hamilton’s messy print decorating both sides.
“Read it out loud,” Memphis demands.
“I’ve prepared a series of clues to remind you how we came to be. A blue gift bag waits for you in every location. Clue #1: One day in September a nerd and a jock collided, I remember.”
In my mind, I recreate the day we officially bumped into each other over and over which led to us talking which led to our friendship. In the busy middle school hallway, we collided on the way to our third period classes. My armful of books toppled to the floor and he scrambled to help me pick them all up. I thanked him, and we went our separate ways—or so we thought. Moments later he took the empty seat next to mine in math class. We found ourselves in three more classes together.
“The answer to the first clue is the middle school,” I inform Memphis. “Would you like to come with me?”
“This is his gift to you,” she states, shaking her head. “I’ll want all the details when you are done.”
I spring up from my seat, pat her on the shoulder, and hurry to my car. I am both nervous and excited to see what memories Hamilton found important enough to use as clues to entertain me this afternoon.
My eyes scan the middle school parking lot as I exit the car. I’m looking for a blue bag. I’m not sure how big or small it might be. There are so many places around the school he might have hidden the next clue that I worry I might not find it. As I slowly walk and scan the area, I contemplate inviting Adrian to assist me on the scavenger hunt. I decide to try it on my own first and call for help if I need it later.
I pass the main entrance then one side of the building before I stop to think. Hamilton and I found a squirrel’s nest outside the language arts windows. We often watched the baby squirrels in the nest instead of reading as instructed in class. I jog to the opposite side of the building. At the base of the squirrel tree, I find the royal blue gift bag with my name on the tag.
Inside is a five-by-seven-inch wooden frame with pictures of Hamilton in his little league uniform and me in my softball uniform from the summer after eighth grade. I giggle at how goofy we were. Hamilton’s smile reveals the space between his front teeth that braces later fixed. My thumb nail between my teeth as I smile, reminds me of the large zit I sported that day, that my hand covers.
The distressed, white-washed frame perfectly surrounds this photo. I pull out the notecard with my next clue.
“Clue #2: I begged my mother to take me to your softball game to cheer for you—the next week you returned the favor. Go to the place that sold more than one bubble gum flavor.”
I return to my car with my gift in tow to drive to the concession stand near the city league ball fields. I loved sour apple gum. Hamilton preferred grape or original flavor. In the concession stand, they carried all three flavors. The nights his parents worked the concession stand, we conducted a test to see which flavor was more popular. I guessed it would be grape while Hamilton thought it was original. We counted every piece prior to opening the windows and then again after closing the stand. While the two of us watched ball games, his parents pulled half the tub of sour apple gum and hid it. When we finished counting, we were shocked that neither one of us was correct. His parents waited over a year before confessing they rigged our experiment.
On the ledge by the closed concession window, I spy the royal blue gift bag. Inside, I find a framed picture of the two of us. These photos are only a year old now, and I can see so many differences in the two of us. I clutch the frame to my chest as I pull out the next clue.
“Clue #3: On the day I passed my driver’s test, I took you to the place with the drink you liked best.”
The day Hamilton got his license, he drove me to Sonic Drive-In after school. I lived for their vanilla cola. He treated me to a large one before he drove me home.
I turn the card over. “Ask for today’s special.” This concerns me. They don’t have daily specials. I don’t ponder his rationale. I drive to Sonic, looking forward to ordering myself a vanilla cola to accompany today’s special.
When I push the large red button to order, I nervously order “today’s special”. I hope the disembodied voice inside knows what my order means. Moments pass before a carhop delivers a large vanilla cola to my car. I attempt to pass my cash to her, but she informs me the drink has already been paid for. Then, she hands me a royal blue gift bag. Inside, I find a $25 Sonic gift card and my next clue.
“Clue #4: We started each day the same if practice didn’t interfere. With our diploma we earned our way out of here.”
I exit my parking stall, pull from Sonic back onto the main drag, and point my car to Athens High School. Although the district didn’t assign parking spots, our group parked in the same slots every day and arrived early enough to hang out prior to the first bell.
I quickly see the royal blue gift bag in my parking spot for the last three years. Inside, I find a framed photo of the two of us that graced the back cover of our yearbook. Hamilton and I sit on his tailgate. I face Hamilton, a smile on my profile, as he faces the camera, laughing.
In this moment, captured by a yearbook staff member, I had just shared the story of slipping in the hog pen and ripping out my jeans doing chores that morning, early in our senior year. Our friend, Savannah, claimed I should have showered again as I still smelled of the hog lot. Hamilton found this super funny.
I am not sure how long I lean on the hood of my car, staring at the two of us. My heart aches. I thought college would continue where high school left off, Hamilton and I sharing moments along the way in Columbia. The last 48 hours changed all of that. Our paths officially split today. I’m glad I now have these photos to remind me, but they are no replacement for him. I underestimated his importance in my life. How will I ever make it on my own?
“Clue #5: In eighth grade for each other we started to care. For we found we had more than classes to share.”
My head tilts to the side as I reread this clue several times. We ran into each other in the hallway eighth grade year. We shared four classes together. We both liked sports. What else did we SHARE?
It’s the cemetery Hamilton stumbled upon only the week before we met there. I accused him of stalking me. He found my accusation hilarious. We learned that we lived on opposite sides of the cemetery from each other. I used it to escape—he used it to dream. We kept our cemetery between the two of us.
Approaching the cemetery, under the large acorn tree I find the royal blue gift bag. My body tingles as I recall our actions last night. I shake off those thoughts as I focus on my scavenger hunt. I pull out a wrapped box and Hamilton’s handwritten note. I read the words out loud.
“This is your final stop. Our shared favorite place sealed our friendship. Here I learned we were destined to be together.” A sob escapes. We are no longer together. He follows his dream and I wonder what I should do now. “Although our journeys are hundreds of miles apart, as my best friend, you hold a special place in my heart. As you open my final gift, I know you’ll be angry with me. I couldn’t leave you today without a plan in place to ensure constant contact between the two of us. Now, open the gift and don’t rant until you read the note inside.”
Tears fall from my lashes to my cheeks and my hands tremble as I turn the rectangular box. It’s heavy. I peel a corner of the paper away to reveal a white box. As I tear more, I find it’s an iPhone box. No way! He better not have. I slide the lid from its base, unfold the paper, and read.
“We now share an unlimited plan. I expect you to use the hell out of the unlimited texts, calls, and data. Your number is the same. Transfer your contacts from your antiquated flip-phone before you toss it in the trash where it belonged years ago.” I follow the arrow to flip the note over. “Cuss all you want, but you better call and text me from this gift tonight. Your BFF, Hamilton”
Damn him! As upset as I am that he spent so much money on me, I am beyond grateful. I can’t afford to upgrade my plan or my cell phone, and my mother uses her money on liquids rather than me. I want to stay in our special place but scurry home to move my contacts into the new phone.