The Rockland skyline grew larger with each passing mile.  Willow felt quite intimidated and nervous as she watched buildings grow from bumps on the ground to towers in the air.  By the time the bus reached the Metro Travel Hub just inside the city limits, she seriously considered returning immediately to Fairbury.

She held her phone ready to dial as they pulled into the bus terminals.  She watched as the Amtrak trains whizzed into the station across the way and as an airplane took off in the distance.  The sheer volume of traveling was enough to overwhelm her without the people, buildings, and of course, the taxis.

Most of the bus passengers in the station thronged to a set of escalators and Willow was swept along with them.  A street musician sang a morbid melody at the corner with his guitar case open.  Few people stopped to listen and fewer dropped spare change in the case.

Just as she reached the escalators, she jerked back bumping into a woman.  “Oh I am so sorry!  It’s moving!”

“What do you think?  Watch where you’re going!”

Stunned at the rude words and cold stare, Willow jumped back and watched as person after person stepped onto the moving stairs and disappeared into the cavern below.  While she assumed that she should follow, fear welled up inside her.  What was down there?  Was it safe?  Would she hurt herself on the steps that appeared from seemingly out of nowhere?

The musician watched with a curious eye.  Suddenly his tune changed and Willow noticed the upbeat jingle almost immediately.

“…the step and you will see

Little miss just please trust me

The escalator is lots of fun

And keeps us all on the run.”

A laugh escaped before she could stop herself.  The rhyme was truly pitiful.  The musician shrugged and said, “I just play ‘em girl, I don’t write ‘em.  Go ahead.  You’ll be fine.  Fine.  Ok.  Safe.”

He made motions that meant nothing to her.  For a moment, Willow didn’t understand why he talked as if she couldn’t understand the words and then laughed again.  “I speak English.”

“Oh.  Thought you were one of them tourists from places that don’t have escalators.”

Before she could answer, Bill came jogging up from the crowd and took her suitcase from her.  “Willow!  I’ve been looking everywhere!”  He glanced at her briefly.  “Nice dress.  It’s perfect.”

Without realizing he’d interrupted a conversation, Bill led her away from the escalators.  Willow glanced over her shoulder apologetically and waved mouthing a ‘thank you’ as she did.  Suddenly, she broke away from Bill and returned to the man with the guitar case.  She dug through her tote bag, found her wallet, and pulled several bills from it avoiding twenties, fifties, and the three hundred dollar bills she’d brought with her.  With a smile of gratitude, she dropped the money in the case and returned to Bill.

“He was so nice to me.  I had to do something.”

“If you drop money like that to every panhandler in Rockland, you’ll be broke in no time.  This is a dangerous city- especially for women as naïve as you.  Just be careful.”

“Well, I can’t give money to everyone but I could to him and I’m glad I did.”

Bill hailed a taxi and dumped her suitcase in the trunk.  Confused, Willow asked why he hadn’t driven his car.  “I just assumed-”

“I never bring it down here.  Crime is terrible around here and my car is one of the most stolen makes.”

With a shudder, Willow queried, “How can you stand it?”

“Stand what?”

“Living here- like this.  Where you can’t even drive the car you own because it might be stolen or vandalized or whatever else you’re afraid of.”

They talked through the short ride into the heart of the city and along Massinger Avenue to the Rockland Metro Center and then the Towers.  As the Taxi dropped them off near the entrance, Willow stepped from the cab and froze.  Bill grabbed her suitcase and gestured for her to follow but she stood immobile, her feet firmly rooted to the cement beneath her feet.

“Come on Willow-” Fear slowly crept over her features until Bill, realizing that she was overwhelmed, handed the suitcase to the bellhop, and sent it inside ahead of him.

“It’s so big.  Look how tall they are!  How can you breathe?”

Her shallow rapid breathing bothered him.  “Take a deep breath.”  The attempt was weak at best.  “Deeper.  Slowly in, now out.  Repeat.  Come on, slowly.  A little deeper now.  You can do it.”

Willow’s breathing slowed and leveled to a more normal pace.  Each second that passed showed another building, another string of vehicles in the parade beneath them as though playing the children’s game, London Bridge waiting for the moment when they ‘all fell down.’

“How-”

“Come on Willow, let’s go inside.  You’ll feel better I think.”

Inside, the décor took her mind off the panic of moments before.  The beauty of the furnishings, the elegance of the fixtures, and the detail in the interior architecture belied the tall shapeless tower’s exterior.  As she admired the frescoed ceilings, a new sense of claustrophobia engulfed her sending her eyes across the registration desk in fresh panic.

“How old is this building?”

The desk clerk smiled and ignored the interruption to her check-in process.  “The tower was built almost ten years ago.  The RAC and Convention Annex is about fifteen years old.  We took over the parking garage and they built a larger one across the street.”

“Is it safe?”

Bill’s eyes flew to Willow’s face.  What he saw both concerned and shamed him.  He was so accustomed to Kari and Willow’s strengths that it hadn’t occurred to him that Willow might be fearful of the unfamiliar.  He thanked the desk clerk for her help, took the room card key, Willow’s suitcase, and led her toward the stairs.  A glance at the room number stopped him.

“We have to take the elevator.  You’re on the eleventh floor.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to ride in an elevator!”

Relieved that she’d be fine for the moment anyway, Bill led her to the elevator and punched the appropriate button.  Willow glanced around here interestedly as the silver box shot upward into the hotel.  As the doors opened, she followed her escort through the hallway to a corner room at the end of the hall.

Bill apologized as he opened the door for her.  “I didn’t think about how unfamiliar all of this would be.  It just never occurred to me that you might be overwhelmed or feel claustrophobic with the buildings.  I was concerned about court, dealing with the traffic and such, but not this.  I’m so sorry.”

“Is it safe?  I keep thinking of the weight of several more stories above me and wonder why they don’t come crashing down on top of us.”

In an attempt to reassure her, Bill said the worst thing possible.  “Well if it hasn’t fallen down in ten years-”

“But that is my point!  Every year brings decay.  Things get weaker!  When will it all come crumbling down?”

“There are buildings in this city that are over fifty years old.  They’re still standing strong.  There are stone castles several stories high that are centuries old.  There is a whole science to structural engineering.  You’re safe.”

Willow took a deep steadying breath and glanced around the room.  “It’s a beautiful room so large for just a place to stay over night!”

“Come over here.  Look at the city from up here.  Maybe it’ll take away that closed-in feeling.”

She shook her head vehemently.  “I think it’d be too much.”

“What if I hold your shoulders?”  Bill felt strongly about facing one’s fears.

She stepped beside him and followed him side-by-side to the large window overlooking Rockland Boulevard.  Bill stood behind her, hands on shoulders, and waited for her to step close enough to see the city.  “Wow, even from up here the buildings are so tall and close.  You get more sky but there are still a lot of really tall buildings.”

She took another step and reached out to push aside the sheer coverings of the windows.  Long heavy drapes hung at the sides ready to close her off from a view of the skyline at the flick of a wrist.  “You still there?”

Bill gave her the slightest nudge and she touched the window lock.  She leaned nervously against it to get a closer view.  The street looked like a paint swipe on a canvas rather than the four-lane boulevard that it was.

“Wow.  That’s amazing.  It almost makes you dizzy but in a neat way.”

She turned comfortably away from the window as though she’d grown up in a penthouse and wandered around the room examining furniture, testing the bed, and peeking into the bathroom.  One look at her reflection in the mirror and Willow hurried to retrieve a brush from her tote bag.  She turned to the room mirror and brushed messy tendrils into a sleek mane.

“There.  So now what?”

Bill glanced at his watch.  “We might be a bit early but we can be let off a few blocks away and walk.”

Willow expected to whiz through the city streets at a breakneck speed but instead the taxi crawled along behind dozens of other taxies at what seemed like millions of cars.  It took twenty minutes to travel just over a mile.  In the old town district, buildings were constructed of brick and brownstone some in neoclassical architecture.  The Oaks stood strong and beautiful as a perfect example of an historic Greek Revival home built in the late eighteen hundreds by Rockland’s unofficial founder for his youngest daughter as a wedding present.

One of the finest restaurants in Rockland, The Oaks was elegantly decorated in ivory and white.  The occasional gold accent whether the trim on a plate or the rim of the crystal, added that extra touch of opulence without crossing the line to gaudy.  A string quartet played softly in one corner while the diners enjoyed a quiet leisurely meal.

Willow was entranced.  As she took her seat, she sniffed the creamy roses in the vase on their table, ran one finger lightly down the vase, and caressed the butter-soft napkin as she unfolded it and slipped it into her lap.  She requested water to drink and complimented the waitress on her pink boutonniere.

Bill sighed in relief.  While he hadn’t expected gauche behavior, he had wondered how much general etiquette Kari had passed onto her daughter.  Their lifestyle and with their avoidance of society added to the plain way the women had of speaking their minds left Bill concerned that he’d have to play Henry Higgins with his unwilling Miss Doolittle.

Behind her menu, Willow read each entrée carefully, unaware of Bill’s internal turmoil.  The beef entrees did little to tempt her.  She ate good cuts of beef frequently and was looking for a new experience.  “Should I choose seafood or poultry?  I’ve never had duck but I hear it’s oily.”

“It is.  It’s terrible actually.  I love their prime rib.”

“I eat beef so often; I wanted to try something I haven’t ever had.”

Bill set his menu aside and smiled across the table.  “What is one thing you’ve always wanted to try- don’t look at the menu, but never could.”

“Shrimp and lamb.”

After a moment’s thought, he tried again.  “How hungry are you?”

“Famished.”

“Order the roasted lamb with rosemary and whatever else they do to it here.  I think you’ll love it.”

Without a second glance at the menu, Willow laid it aside as well and smiled across the table.  “Thank you.  You’re having prime rib?  I don’t see it on the menu?”

“They only serve it on Saturday nights.  I’m having the veal.  It’s incredibly good.”

Their candles flickered, the roses sent occasional wafts of their heady perfume across the table, and the music seemed to dance in their subconscious.  Bill, recovering his manners and feeling foolish for leaving Willow to flounder for conversation when he’d been concerned for her social backwardness darted his eyes over Willow’s dress.  “That dress is lovely.  I won’t ask if you made it.  That would be a ridiculous question.  I will ask, however, where you found such beautiful fabric when I know you and your mother only shopped by mail.”

“Mother ordered six yards of voile for decorating her room last year.  They sent sixteen.  There was some mix up about the order box not being printed right so mother fixed it and they mistook her box correction for a one.”

“Well, those roses are just amazing.  I remember that fabric incident.  Your mother called me from Fairbury about it.  She wasn’t sure how to pay for it without sending more fabric.”

“Right.  Somehow the person who accepted the order and processed payment understood what we ordered but the cutter didn’t.”

Each flower was placed so perfectly that Bill couldn’t see a single petal chopped off in a seam.  “I’m just amazed at the cost of the fabric.  It wasn’t very expensive but that is some finely stitched design on there.”

“Oh, I did the embroidery once the dress was made.”

“You hand stitched all of that pattern on your dress?  Why?  Why not just buy embroidered fabric?”

Willow had learned quickly from Chad that doing for yourself what you can pay others to do instead was almost a universal virtue in this new world she’d entered. “Because we had ten yards of the fabric and I wanted a pattern to my dress so I made it.  What would we do with ten yards of voile unless I stitched it into a dress?”

Bill sensed that he’d touched on a sore spot.  “Well I think you did an incredible job.  I was impressed with your cutting skills- not a single petal cut off and all- but doing all that handwork…”

Her eyes sparkled with glee as she realized that Bill was trying to save face.  The effect, enhanced by candlelight and the flush of excitement on her cheeks left her looking unusually attractive.  “I never realized how lovely you are Willow.”

“Thank you.  Tell me that after I’ve been milking Wilhelmina and I might actually believe it’s something other than candlelight and roses, but thank you.”

Their miniscule salads arrived before he could respond.  Once finished the waiter suggested wine for their main course which Bill immediately ordered.  The waiter glanced at Willow and smiled.  “I’ll need to see your ID please before I can serve you.”

“I don’t have ID.  It’s why I came to Rockland.  We’re going tomorrow to get everything taken care of so I can get proper ID for these things.  I’ll just drink water unless you want to see my journals- no, they’re at the hotel-”

“She won’t be drinking wine this evening unless you have a non-alcoholic that you can recommend.”  Bill’s rushed voice and interruption ensured that the waiter was even more suspicious than when Willow was “explaining.”

Willow turned back to Bill and shrugged.  “Did I say something wrong?”

“He thinks we’re buying you a fake ID.”

“Why would we do that?”

Amused, Bill explained that people often purchased counterfeit identification in order to purchase alcohol or frequent nightclubs before they were legally old enough.  “Of course, people use it for serious crimes as well as things like that.  Identity theft is a terrible problem right now.”

“I am beginning to understand, in ways I never could before, why Mother was so adamant about staying away from people- especially ones in the city.”

***

Willow stood in JC Penney’s overwhelmed by the sheer volume of available clothing.  Everything she touched was either lovely or repulsive.  She held skirts that were hardly long enough to hide the most basic of undergarments and blouses that plunged lower than her custom sewn brassieres.  On the other hand, perfectly lovely skirts in every size and color fought with complimentary or contrasting tops to do little more than thoroughly confuse Willow.

While Willow adjusted to yet another facet of culture shock, Bill sought help.  A saleswoman replacing clothes taken to the dressing room listened patiently and fascinated as Bill explained the situation and begged for discreet help.  ”I’ve got it.  I’ll take care of it.  Why don’t you go look for some socks or a package of undershirts.  She’s probably feeling self-conscious.”

Bill wandered away nervously and watched from afar as “Jill” hurried with a stack full of clothes to the rack where Willow listlessly shoved aside skirt after skirt.  The hangers scraped along the metal racks almost enjoying the horrible sound.

“May I help you?”

Willow glanced around but when she saw Bill had gone somewhere else, she smiled at the young woman.  “Oh no, let me help you.”

Before Jill knew what happened, Willow took half the pile of clothes from her arms and looked around for some place to put them.  “Oh miss I-” Jill’s forehead furrowed.  The guy hadn’t been joking.  “I was just putting these things away.  It’s my job.  Here, let me-”

“Just show me where they go and when we’re done putting everything away; you can help me find an outfit for tomorrow if you would.”

As they put away the clothing, Jill and Willow got well enough acquainted that Jill had a reasonably good idea of what Willow needed to be presentable at the courthouse but without making her look like she was a fraud.  A dowdy outfit might look as though making a play for sympathy while arriving overdressed could leave the impression that she was just another girl from Rockland trying to hide from her creditors.

“I think I have it.  You need a beige wrap skirt- twill.  You want fabrics that you could have ordered if you wanted a beige skirt.  Then you want a basic white cotton shirt.  Wear your hair in a low bun and slip on shoes with nylons.”

Willow listened skeptically to the outfit Jill described but once she tried them on in the dressing room, Willow had to admit that the look was perfect.  It looked like something she’d like, make, and wear but it was also contemporary enough not to make her look like a charity case.

They found Bill fingering ties and glancing at his watch.  “I was giving you five more minutes and then-”

“I’ve got everything I need right here.  I left my tote bag in the car though.  Would you hold these things while I go get Mother’s wallet?”

Bill shook his head and hurried to the nearest checkout corner talking all the while.  “No.  You never wander outside alone after dark in this city.  Got that?”

“But you can’t pay for my clothes!”

Bill thanked Jill and paid for the purchases before turning to Willow and leading her to the Mall food court.  “You can either pay me back or I can deduct it from the disbursement account.  Either way.”

The buildings around the Towers were less frightening at night.  Willow stood in the same place she stood earlier that afternoon and rather than terror, awe swept over here as she saw the midnight blue sky dappled liberally with lights from the nearby buildings.  “It’s friendlier at night, isn’t it?”

Oppressive humidity and temperatures still above eighty degrees urged Bill inside taking Willow along with him.  “It’s pretty but man it’s stifling out here.”

“I think it’s hotter in the city.”

Bill agreed.  “Miles of asphalt, thousands upon thousands of cars, and of course being in this valley doesn’t help.  You’re up by the lake and have your own stream so I doubt it gets quite this hot where you are.”

At the elevator, Bill sent her up alone.  “It’s getting late and I need to get my car.  I’ll pick you up out front at eight.  I’ll order breakfast to arrive at seven if you tell me what you want.”

“Whatever you recommend is fine.  Thank you for taking me to dinner.”

Without another word, she slipped into the elevator and punched the button for the eleventh floor.  As she did, she noticed that there was no button numbered thirteen.  “Wow, they really do avoid a thirteenth floor!” she murmured, awed.

Her door, on the other hand, was a different matter.  No matter how often she slipped her card into the door slot, it didn’t work.  She reached into her tote bag for her cell phone and started to punch Bill’s number.  Willow paused and then punched Chad’s instead.  If she called Bill, he’d come back upstairs and he obviously wanted to go home.

“Hi Chad, I have a problem.  Can you help me?”

Chad’s voice held a trace of alarm as the word problem entered his consciousness.  He glanced at the clock on his phone.  Ten-thirty.  “Sure, what’s up?”  Chad prayed his voice didn’t betray that he’d been asleep.

“Well this place doesn’t have keys.  It has a little plastic card like thing- it looks like the kind of card you used to buy my ticket-”

“A card key, right.”

“Well I’ve tried everything and it won’t open the door.”

Willow listened as Chad explained how to find the arrow pointing down, find the front of the card, and let it sit in the slot long enough for the light to change.  Seconds later, she stood inside her door relieved.  “Oh thank you.  I didn’t want to call Bill back but-”

“No problem.”

“How is everything?  Did you find the pail ok?  Did you get the chickens inside?  We have an owl that’ll-”

They’re all sleeping soundly, the goat is empty and full at the same time, and Othello is holding his nightly vigil out by the oak tree.”

Willow suddenly felt very homesick.  “I can’t hear the cicadas here.  I can only hear cars and horns and sirens.  I want to come home.”

“You’ll be here tomorrow night.  Just get through the court hearing and then get on the bus.”

“I need a purse.  My tote bag isn’t appropriate to carry around here.  I look funny.  The other women all have purses.  Where can I buy one?”

Chad smiled to himself.  Just when he almost forgot Willow was a woman, she’d surprise him with the most feminine comment.  “After court tomorrow, get a cab and have it take you to the mall closest to your hotel.  You should find a Sears or JC Penney’s or Macy’s or something.”

“Oh, I was at J Penney’s tonight.  I bought clothes for tomorrow- or, rather, Bill bought them for me.”  Something about that sentence irritated Chad.  “I have to make sure he gives me a copy of the accounts before I leave.  I have no idea where they are and I spent almost a hundred dollars tonight!”

“I thought you said he bought them?”

“Well, he paid for them because he wouldn’t let me go out to the car to get Mother’s wallet.”

A few more minutes passed as Willow described her drive into Rockland, the smothering feeling of the press of huge buildings around her, and the elegance of the restaurant. She described her room and the view from her window until another wave of homesickness struck.  “Are you near a window?”

“Mmm hmm,” Chad replied sleepily.  One-thirty was closing in on him rapidly.

“Will you put your cell phone out the window so I can hear the cicadas?”