4 in Far from Home

  • May 29, 2021, 10:13 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

I woke up feeling very different the next morning. Like something was new. Then I remembered the generous offer I’d received from Forrest and my mind quickly went into overdrive with all the reasons why I should and shouldn’t accept his offer.

I wondered if he had his own place or if he rented an apartment. I decided I should get more information the more curious I became by thinking about it. With nothing left to lose I might as well do something crazy. Didn’t people often say we should all do something crazy at least once in our life?

The way I looked at it was that if I didn’t have the guts to kill myself and I didn’t have the will to live, then what did I really have to lose? Yes, there was a chance I could be seriously tortured with no way out unless he killed me, but I felt brave enough to take a chance. Funny, ain’t it? Not brave enough to end it all but brave enough to put me in potentially grave danger. Really, I barely knew a thing about the guy. When I was young and single, I never would have had the guts to do such a thing, but if his offer still stood, I was up for the idea of living dangerously.

He answered some questions I asked a few hours after I sent them and informed me that he lived in an apartment that he rented on the upper floor of a two-story house. The landlady and owner, a widow in her late sixties, lived downstairs. It was in a residential area of Bergen.

Although Forrest was fluent in Norwegian, naturally, most of the residents also spoke English. So, if I did go over there, at least I wouldn’t have to learn a foreign language.

I had to think ahead as well. I mean did I really want to be Forrest’s roommate for the rest of my life even if I was getting older? I wasn’t so sure about that. I may be getting older, but I still had a good forty years left in me. Couldn’t see myself ever settling down with anyone again, but always being his roommate? I guess that would depend on how well we got along. I was hoping that even though I could afford not to work, I could at least get something part-time even if it was a nothing little job behind the counter of some small store. Good roommate or not, I just didn’t want to go stir crazy sitting at home all the time. At this point in my life, the rest of it was going to be about comfort and happiness, if I could find it, as opposed to money and material things.

After a few more days of hard thinking, it was decided that I would let Forrest know as soon as the house sold and would then be on my way much to the dismay of my friends.

“What if the guy doesn’t even exist?”

“What if he never picks you up at the airport?”

“What if he’s a woman?”

“What if he’s really some eighteen-year-old kid?”

“What if he’s a ninety-year-old psycho?”

Pretty sure I could handle a ninety-year-old even if they were in good shape for their age. I would actually be pretty embarrassed if I couldn’t take someone in their eighties, a foot taller or not.

Furthermore, I didn’t care if Forrest was a woman, though I highly doubted that he was!

Life was all about what-ifs, I told my friends, reminding them that I didn’t have anything to lose because I’d already lost what mattered most to me. What really, really mattered.

I will admit that I wasn’t too thrilled to learn that Forrest wasn’t in a stand-alone house since I didn’t usually like living attached to others. But maybe that was a good thing. Unless the landlady was stone deaf, maybe she would hear my screams and call for help if Forrest ever did go a little crazy on me.

It took a couple of months, but I eventually managed to sell almost all of my possessions. I stuffed the most important things into two large suitcases and a carry-on for the plane. Plus, I had an oversized handbag which my laptop, Kindle and phone were in.

Finally, in mid-May, I boarded a plane bound for Norway. I was glad no one sat next to me as I got myself as comfortable as I could for the long flight. The last thing I wanted to do was spend it gabbing with a non-stop talker.

So, I pulled out my Kindle, opened the book I was reading, and hunkered down for the 11-hour flight ahead.

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