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whispered. “Well, at least one of my boys will still be around!” she sighed in an effort to console herself. Reaching down to give Beau a reassuring pat on the head, Maggie took a deep breath, and regained some measure of her Southern composure as she looked out the window and saw Ryan’s parents coming through the gate. “Time to get going, boys—here come Martin and Cathy. Julian, let me find your father so he can help send you off.”

      Egos snapped back into place as that special moment of clarity and connection gave way to the demands of the task at hand. “Hey Ry,” exhorted Julian, “can you help me with this bag? It weighs more than I do!”

      I doubt that, Ryan thought to himself, glancing over at his shorter and slightly pudgy friend. I’m gonna get that kid in shape if it kills me, he resolved as he reached down to help Julian with what was apparently the majority of his earthly possessions, carefully compressed into one overloaded receptacle. “Come on Jules, I got it,” he grinned as he effortlessly thrust the bag through the open doorway and toward the waiting van.

      “I sure hope that thing is up to the trip!” Julian remarked, looking tentatively over at Ryan’s “hippie mobile,” as he called it.

      “Oh, don’t worry about that!” echoed the voice of Martin Christie, as he and Cathy made their way through the garden to the piazza. “Ry and I went over that baby with a fine-tooth comb! She was purrin’ like a kitten by the time we finished,” he grinned. “No sirree, you boys are good to go. That thing would take you to China and back if you needed it to!”

      Famous last words! Julian thought to himself, already having experienced quite a few breakdowns in the van since the Christies got it for Ryan on his sixteenth birthday.

      Sensing his friend’s hesitancy, Ryan quickly concurred with his father, “Don’t worry, Jules…old Vinnie here is rarin’ to go!” On the day of its arrival, Ryan had christened his van Vinnie VanGo, a moniker still retained amid other original Christie works of art displayed ubiquitously on virtually every metallic surface of Vinnie’s exterior, in homage to one of Ryan’s foremost heroes. “Oh yeah,” he reassured himself, patting Vinnie affectionately as he hoisted Julian’s bag into an interior already packed with what appeared to be every imaginable item that Ryan could envision the two boys needing over the next four years—guitars, amps, microphones, speakers, books, computers, and even a few less essential items such as pots, pans, kitchen utensils, clothing, and last, but not the least, a US road atlas.

      “Vinnie VanGone, I wish,” Julian thought to himself, as he stared at the van’s rather dubious epithet, boldly painted on the side facing the piazza, and recounted the numerous missions that had to be aborted due to Vinnie’s proclivity for mechanical failure. Surely, this wouldn’t be yet another of those, he hoped as the bulging bag containing nearly all his earthly possessions disappeared within the bowels of the beast.

      “Don’t worry, Jules, everything will be just fine!” came Ryan’s voice from inside the sliding bombardier door. “Vinnie won’t let us down this time, you’ll see!”

      “Sure, Ry,” came a slightly less-than-enthusiastic response. “Are we all loaded?”

      “Just about. How about Beau? Think he’d like to tag along?”

      “Don’t even think about it, Ryan Christie!” came a threatening female voice from the piazza. “One son lost for today is plenty, thank you!”

      “Just kiddin’, Mrs. R.” Ryan laughed as he walked over to give his mom and dad a hug. “I’ll miss you guys,” he nodded, not quite able to muster the same level of emotion that had unexpectedly escaped him with Maggie and Julian a few moments earlier. The getting-out-from-under-the-parental-wings desire served as a counterbalance to whatever sadness he normally would have felt, for even though Ryan loved his parents dearly, he had definitely been a challenge for them, and more than a few unpleasant memories still lingered on both sides. He imagined his parents were feeling as much relief as he was, in spite of the love they all had for one another.

      “Do your best out there, Ryan, and always know that you can count on us if ever you need anything,” Cathy promised as she gave her son a big goodbye hug.

      “That goes for both of us, Ry,” his dad added, giving him an affectionate slap on the back and a firm, manly handshake. “Don’t be a stranger,” he added quickly. “You know you always have a place here whenever you want to come home.”

      “Thanks, Dad. I’ll do my best to grow up and make you both proud. Hey, tell sis I’m sorry she couldn’t make it and that I hope she’ll get out to Portland to visit sometime soon.”

      Just then, Mr. Russell burst through the front door, cell phone in hand, apologizing for being late. “Sorry, you guys, I had a client on the phone with a big tax problem that just couldn’t wait. You boys have a safe trip now, and if you run out of money, call the Christies! Just kidding,” he laughed, as Maggie gave him a threatening look. “Julian, you watch out for Ryan now, and Ryan…try to keep the insanity to a manageable level, you hear?”

      “Amen to that!” seconded Martin, looking directly at Ryan, who managed a weak assent. “Keep up with the Gibson, too, Ry. I want to get my money’s worth out of that thing,” he grinned.

      “I’ll do my best,” replied Ryan, sliding into Vinnie’s well-worn driver’s seat. “Well, Jules, I guess we’re a bit early for Lenny and Kyle. Sure gonna miss them…Oh well, all aboard, bro, this train is heading west!” he exclaimed as the old bus sputtered to a start.

      “Don’t drive too fast, honey!” called Cathy amid a flutter of goodbye hand-waving.

      “I wouldn’t worry about that,” Julian mumbled as Ryan backed the van out of the gate and onto Meeting Street. This thing wouldn’t go over sixty if Van Gogh himself were waiting for us in Portland! he laughed to himself as they chugged off toward Broad, leaving behind four loving parents and the only world they had ever known.

      “Still think this is a good idea?” Julian asked tentatively as Vinnie rumbled up to the stoplight at Meeting and Broad—the well-known Four Corners of Law, and the line of demarcation between the highly genteel, ultratraditional, remarkably unchanging historic district to the south and the more modern Charleston business district to the north.

      “Oh yeah,” Ryan replied with no hesitation whatsoever. “You know, we’ve both grown up here and I love it as much as you do, but it’s definitely time to see more of the world, don’t you agree? I mean, there’s a lot of new thinking, new ways of living, and new ideas out there, Jules. Don’t you remember how cool it was when we flew out West? Portland is my kind of town, dude—purple hair, funky clothes, nose rings, tattoos…those people look and act however they want to and nobody cares. That would never happen in Charleston, especially south of Broad!”

      “That does indeed sound like progress,” Julian jibed back in his usual manner. “No doubt you’ll be wanting to do all those things just as soon as we arrive,” he continued, rolling his eyes upward as the van crept past Calhoun Street and Marion Square on the left.

      “You just don’t get it, Jules,” Ryan countered. “I’m not saying that I personally want to do all those things. I just think it’s cool to experience a culture that’s way different from what we’ve known here all our lives, that’s all. Maybe even you will loosen up a bit!” he laughed as he reached for his sunglasses and flipped on the radio to his favorite oldies station. “Oh my god, Jules!” he shrieked as the chorus of an old Eric Burton and the Animals tune blared out between them. “This is unbelievable—what an omen, dude!” he insisted, turning the volume up even louder as Eric crooned the final chorus:

      We’ve gotta get outa this place

      If it’s the last thing we ever do

      To Julian’s horror, both of Ryan’s hands had left the wheel and were in midair now, mimicking the lead guitar riff at the end. “Dah da, dah da,” his voice synchronized with his fingers before being interrupted by Julian screaming, “Ryan, watch out!”

      Ryan instinctively grabbed

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