A car retreated from the long curvy driveway and backed onto the street before driving into the distance where it got lost in the parade of others within seconds. It was a crisp morning and the town sleepily rose to wave goodbye to Stacy, a 17-year-old girl who was off to college for the next four years, thousands of miles across the country where nothing could compare to the comfort of her hometown in California. As she drove through the roads one last time, the flowers looked taller, skies looked bluer, and the dogs looked happier.
Stacy began the drive down Main Street. She passed the local market; her favorite Friday night stop when she would get so many snacks with her friends that they would leave the store with food stacked in their arms up to their eye line. The warm lights inside peeked through the awning over the tables on the patio, and as she slowly drifted, a light flickered from the back almost as if saying goodbye.
Then, further down the street, she passed the park where she met her ex-boyfriend, a guy who treated her well and helped her grow tremendously. They spent a lot of quiet time together there looking at flowers or throwing rocks into the pond after school. She smiled when she saw the red birds that always bothered them when they sat on tree limbs to debrief their day.
Next to the park was the ice cream store. Stacy got her first job there and would stay late hours to help close the store and finish up any homework before she went home. She met her best friend there as they always worked the same hours and would laugh and sing as they scooped customers’ orders. The smell of ice cream slowly sifted through the windows, and the sound of trucks unloading in the back lot were just the beginning of a morning ritual she knew well.
Further down the road, Stacy passed the dog store. A woman walked out with a small brown puppy on a purple leash who was eager to explore the smells of the outside world. It reminded her of when she got Clifford, her one and only dog years ago. He was her happiness, and she often would bring him in to be pampered by the friendly staff. She smiled as she looked up to see the puppy tugging on the leash and the woman as she sped up to match the speed of her new friend, laughing as they ventured to the stop sign and turned the corner.
Lastly, on the outskirts of town, she passed the high school. The place where although she had a lot of ups and downs, she ultimately thrived and reached academic success which now set her up for her future at college in Boston. She stared into the window on the top floor, into the class that she was in when she found out about her acceptance. A small figure approached the classroom window a moment later as if knowing Stacy was outside. The figure looked onto the street below and spotted the car. It was Mr. Tate, her math teacher senior year, who helped her overcome the challenges in the subject that she never seemed to be able to do before. She grew to love the class, subject, and environment where Mr. Tate often congratulated her on her hard work. Stacy’s eyes lit up as she made eye contact with him, and she waved with gratitude.
At last, her car crossed the last crosswalk which separated her quaint town from the bustle of a grainy California city. As her car turned the final corner onto the highway, she lightly beeped her horn in a dignified manner to say goodbye to the town that served her and her childhood well.