Map of the World

I looked around the foreign city, shielding the sun from my eyes with my hand. The other hand held a map that I couldn’t read. I turned it upside down and every which way. Finally I sighed in frustration, crumpling it up.

“Are you lost?” I heard from behind me.

I welcomed the American accent and faced the voice eagerly. “Yes, I am completely lost.”

I studied the boy in front of me. He was tall with light hair and even lighter skin, speckled with freckles. “Where are you trying to go?”

“I’m trying to find this,” I pointed it out on the map. “It’s a church.”

He studied it for a few moments before folding up the map, “I’ll walk you there. It’s on the way to where I’m headed.”

I stared at him wearily. No matter how nice he seemed I shook my head, “That’s okay. If you could just point me in the right direction.”

“I’m not a rapist or something,” he laughed, “I’m offended.”

“You can never be too careful. And just because you say you’re not one doesn’t mean you aren’t,” I said.

“My name is Jared Monaco. I play in a band called The Maine from Arizona. I’ve never raped anyone in my whole entire life and my favorite color is blue,” he smiled.

“Oh, well now I totally believe you,” I laughed. I surveyed our surroundings, knowing that we weren’t far from my destination and that he couldn’t murder me with a bunch of people around. “Lead the way.”

We started walking. He had his hands stuffed in his tight jeans. “So do I get to know anything about you?”

“I’d rather not,” I smiled guiltily.

He stopped walking. “Woah, woah. I can’t go on if I don’t know your name. How do I know you won’t rape me!?”

I laughed out loud, “My name is Roxie. I’m from Texas. I also have never raped anyone and my favorite color is green.”

He smiled, “Okay, we can continue.”

We started walking again. “So what brings you to England?”

“I’m on tour with my band,” Jared said.

“Wow, are you guys like… famous?” I asked seriously.

“Nah,” he smiled, “Just lucky.”

“That’s awesome.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, just another tourist,” I told him.

“Alone?”

“Yep. I haven’t been to the States in nearly eight months,” I said.

“So you just travel around the world?” he asked.

“When my grandma died she left me a whole bunch of money for college. Not really my thing so I’ve been using it for the last few months to tour the world,” I shrugged.

“I can definitely relate to the college thing,” Jared laughed, “And the touring thing.”

“I bet being in a band and touring is amazing. I would kill for that,” I told him.

“How do you get the will to keep traveling? Don’t you miss home?” he asked me.

“I do. But this is what I’ve always wanted to do. Sometimes it takes a little encouragement,” I shrugged, “That’s what post cards are for.”

“I don’t get it…” he laughed lightly.

I smiled at him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him for a few feet. We arrived at a storefront. I grabbed a postcard from the rack in front of us. I paid for it before taking a pen from my purse. “See, every city or country I go to, I purchase a post card.”

“What do you write?” Jared asked.

I smiled and looked back down at the card, beginning to write what I was telling him, “Dear Roxie, today I met a really nice guy named Jared. He’s a ginger! You’ve always wanted to be friends with a ginger. England was great, and Leeds will be even better. Keep your head up, see you soon.”

“But where do you send it to?”

“A hostel in Leeds. I’ve been in England for a few weeks, and in the next week I plan to be in Leeds.”

“That’s…” he struggled to find the words.

“Weird?” I blushed slightly, “I get that a lot.”

“I think it’s totally cool,” Jared said, laughing a little.

We walked for a few more minutes before I stopped, looking at the building in front of me, “I think this is where I need to go.”

He looked up at the old church as well, “Can I go in with you?”

I smiled at him, “Sure.”

We walked into the church. It was open to the public only as a tourist attraction, but nothing was really attractive about it. The pews looked too damaged to rest any weight on and the ceiling looked like it would give out.

I felt slightly embarrassed that I had brought Jared here, it was extremely unimpressive. But there was something about it that turned my face into a smile.

“This is beautiful,” Jared breathed.

I looked at him, surprised, “This is where my great grandma and grandpa got married.”

“Amazing,” Jared said.

We moved to the front of the chapel in front of the podium. Jared put his hands on my shoulders and moved me to a specific position, lining himself up directly in front of me. “Your great grandparents probably stood in these exact spots.”

I shook my head and grinned, “See why I travel the world now?”

“I do,” he smiled. We left the church and stopped so I could look at my map. He took it from my hands. “Have you ever tried foreign frozen yogurt?”

“Is it different than domestic frozen yogurt?” I laughed.

He looked at me like I was crazy, “It’s ten times better. Come now.”

Jared held my hand as we walked just across the street, giving me a nervous feeling in my stomach, my better judgment told me to be weary, but I knew it was just butterflies. He was oddly good looking but his personality sold it.

He bought me a cup of frozen yogurt and we sat outside in the nice weather.

“You know, it’s hard to believe a pretty girl like you is comfortable walking around a foreign country alone,” he said casually.

“You mean because of creeps like you?” I laughed.

His cheeks turned red, “I just realized how weird that sounded.”

I took a bite of my yogurt, “I haven’t had too many problems. I just keep my head down. No eye contact is the best policy.”

“But if you keep your head down you don’t get to see everything you came here to see,” he said factually, but still sounding slightly confused.

“So far it’s been working okay for me,” I said.

He nodded his head and spoke distantly, “I see.”

“I bet you know what it’s like having people creep on you. Being in a world famous band and all,” I giggled softly.

“Oh yeah, you know it. Those fourteen year olds get pretty weird,” he shrugged.

“You love it though, huh?”

“I do,” he smiled bashfully. “What about you?”

“Well, I love to travel,” I said obviously.

“Duh,” he rolled his eyes, “What else?”

“I like to write. And read. Finding Hogwarts is my life mission. I like to watch hockey, and not only because the men are incredibly sexy, but because I like the sport,” I told him.

He laughed, “Harry Potter, huh? Is that why you’re in England?”

“It might be a part of it,” I shrugged, blushing.

He leaned closer to me, his face completely serious. I leaned in too to hear his whispers. “Keep it down,” he glanced at the table of adults next to us, “The muggles are listening.”

I threw my head back in laughter, “I may have just fallen in love with you.”

“Awesome. I didn’t even have to tell you that I played hockey when I was a kid. Field and ice,” he said casually.

I used my folded up map to fan my face that wasn’t heated at all, “Well, I’ll be.”

He laughed, “I like you, Roxie. In the least creepy of ways.”

“I like you too, Jared. In the creepiest of ways,” I winked.

He laughed and as we ate our frozen yogurt I noted that I hadn’t ever connected with anyone so instantly before. It took years to make the friends I did have back home, and I was still able to pack up and leave them without much of a goodbye.

What did that say about me?

“Want to see why I travel the world?”

I nodded my head and he grabbed my hand. We walked for only a few minutes before we made it more into the center of town. Before he led me into the building I saw the marquee reading The Maine.

“Guys, this is Roxie,” he said to a large group of boys sitting backstage. “She’s a nomad.”

“What?” one of them laughed.

“Not a nomad,” I laughed, “Just a permanent tourist.”

“Well, I’m John,” the one standing said, “Everyone else doesn’t really matter.”

I laughed, “Nice to meet all of you. It’s really nice to hear American accents.”

“See, I’m the exact opposite. I feel like I hate American accents. Foreign girls are sexier,” John said.

“And hairier,” someone else said.

Jared wrapped his arm around my shoulder, “And on that note, we’re going to go somewhere else.”

I laughed as we left the room. He took me to the bar at the venue and we both drank water, too nervous to drink what the bartender served after he mumbled something about filthy Americans.

“So when did you know that you wanted to tour the world?”

“Honestly?” I asked. He nodded his head, “When I was eight years old.”

“Wow,” he laughed, “Starting early.”

“I remember the exact moment. We were learning about Athens in my social studies class. No one was paying attention at all. And when I was eight years old I made a bucket list and I-”

“You made a bucket list when you were eight? That’s horribly sad,” Jared laughed.

I continued, “On the top of my list was to go to Athens. Well now Greece is barely a country but I went. And since then I’ve been hopping around Europe, trying to find a place I can call home.”

“How many places do you have left to go?” he asked.

“I burned through my list two months ago. Now I’m just going wherever the wind blows,” I shrugged.

“What’s so wrong with home back in Texas?”

I shrugged, “It wasn’t my home. My heart wasn’t ever there.”

“So you’re searching for your heart,” Jared concluded.

“Or just some place to let it rest awhile.”

Jared smiled at me, it was seemingly adoring, or amazed, or just totally confused. I began to feel vulnerable to this man I hardly knew, but at the same time it was uplifting to tell my feelings without being judged.

“You’re so… interesting to me,” Jared said.

“What can I say…” I laughed slightly, unsure of what to say. “Why do you love Arizona?”

He shrugged at the strange question, “It’s my home.”

“Well what makes it your home?”

“I guess the fact that it’s the place where I’m happiest. The place that I love the most, and have learned the most. I mean, it’s nice to get away, but if there’s one thing that is always a sure thing—it’s Arizona.”

“I wish I felt that way,” I told him honestly.

“Why don’t you like Texas?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it… I just needed something new. And I’ve been gone so long I just can’t seem to go back.”

We talked for a while longer before Jared went on stage. I watched him play, with that ever present smile on his sweaty face. I wished for a happiness like that, for something to do that made me so happy every single day.

“So where are you headed to next?” I asked Jared after the show.

“Home,” he said, “Back to Arizona for a few months.”

I smiled, “I’m happy for you.”

“You sure Arizona isn’t on that list of places to go?” he asked, smiling slightly.

I shook my head, “Regrettably, no. Not yet, anyways.”

“Well if you ever head stateside, let me know,” he said.

“I will.”

I stood on my tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for being so nice to me.”

“You know, Roxie. There’s a reason that they say home is where the heart is,” he said seriously.

I nodded my head, giving him a distant smile and an awkward wave. It was odd saying goodbye to someone you knew you wouldn’t see again. I didn’t ask him for a phone number, because I didn’t want it.

My life was about mystery. The mystery of what I would eat for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The mysteries of train and flight times. The mystery of foreign languages. The mystery of the person inside of me, the mystery of who I really was.

I arrived in Leeds a week later, the same day my postcard arrived. I was reminded of Jared, not like he hadn’t been on my mind all week.

A week later another postcard arrived, addressed to me. The picture on the front was a cactus, lit by the shining sun in the background landscape. The scraggly handwriting read,

Dear Roxie, I made it home safe and I hope you made it to Leeds safe. You’ve been on my mind all week—not in a creepy way. Just because there was one more thing I wanted to tell you. You say you’re searching for a home, but how can you find a home when you keep on moving? The next place you go… maybe you should give it some more time. Or at least a better shot. Stay safe, write me if you get the chance.”

I placed the postcard down at my side and lay on my bed. I thought of the months I had spent abroad and all of the amazing things I had seen. But nothing stuck, nothing was more than temporary happiness. Except for my day with Jared.

And it wasn’t that I thought I had a crush on him and it wasn’t the way he cared. It was the way he reminded me that home is where you’re able to love the most and learn the most.

So I picked out a postcard and wrote myself a note. I addressed it to my childhood home in Texas. I would leave tomorrow.

And maybe I’d stop in Arizona before I made it there.