Warning: The following story may evoke intense feelings of frustration and disappointment. Proceed with caution.
“Okay, so which way do we turn?” I mumbled to myself under the burning Mississippi sun. So far, our quest had been pretty painless. Peter, Yadira and I had walked about a mile to get to Delaware Street- the street our destination was located. None of us knew the exact location or address, but with the name of the street and a map of McComb, Mississippi, I was positive that I could lead us to success.
My stomach rumbled painfully and suddenly the purpose of our destination flooded my head with desire. All I could think about was the subway sandwich I would soon be eating. My thoughts were interrupted when Peter asked “ Uh, Kacey? Which way do we turn?”
Delaware Street to the left was rich with restaurants, fast food joints and furniture stores. The rows of restaurants seemed endless compared to the barren right side of Delaware. Not wanting to appear unsure, I told Peter that it must be to the left, just like everything else in the small town of McComb.
With every new cluster of buildings, we optimistically searched for the familiar white and yellow sign and were disappointed each time. A couple miles later, Yadira and Peter’s hope and patience had run out; mine however, as well as my pride, remained intact. I knew exactly how Captain Bligh must have felt when he first heard rumors of the mutiny to come. Each time the destination failed to appear, their hope fell, and hunger and doubt rose.
“This is taking forever!” I shouted, starting to doubt my earlier decision. “ What do you think we should do?” I asked Peter. He hadn’t said much, and my guess was that he was anything but happy with this disastrous expedition.
“I don’t know. If we’ve come this far, we might as well go further.” So we kept going until we saw the highway, and the end of Delaware. We all shouted about how we couldn’t believe it wasn’t there, and Yadira blamed me. I had gambled, and it did not pay off.
The walk back was even worst than the walk there. As sweat dripped down our backs, my mouth was drier than the Sahara Dessert, and the hunger pains were too much to bear. The anger stewing inside of us made us intolerable of each other.
When we were almost back to where we started on Delaware, I had an idea. If it wasn’t to the left, then it must be to the right! I discussed my idea with Peter and Yadira, and as Peter had said earlier, we’ve come this far, we might was well go further.
A ways down the other side of Delaware, and no Subway in sight, Yadira was getting fed up. “I’m stopping for directions!” She and I walked into the small dress shop filled with fancy dresses and picture of girls at prom and Quinceañera celebrations. The cool room was refreshing, and the friendly store workers were enough to restore our hope. Yadira asked cheerfully, “Do you know how to get to Subway?”
All of the newfound hope was lost when the store owners looked at each other confusedly, and replied in their twangy southern accents, “Subway? I don’t know honeys. I could look it up in the Yellow Pages if you’d like?”
We took them up on their offer, and told them that we were looking for the one on Delaware Street. When they found the right Subway and realized its location, they pointed towards left Delaware - where we had just come from - and said, “That ones way over that way. Its probably too far to walk.” We looked at each other, defeated. We said thank you, and vowed never to talk about this incident ever again. Little did we know, there was a surprise in store for us later when it came time to go out to dinner.
An hour after we got back to the mission house, we left for dinner. Bitter reminders of the afternoon’s events came when we drove down the left side of Delaware to get to the restaurant we were headed to. We had our eyes peeled open, making sure to look at every restaurant, thinking that, maybe we had just missed it before. Again, there was no Subway in sight as the driver turned on her turn signal. The restaurant we were eating at was at the end of Delaware, about thirty feet from where we turned around. As the whale of a van turned into the parking lot, we noticed that behind the gas station we had turned around at earlier that day was the Subway.
Before the ill-fated trip across Delaware, Subway was just a place that sold delicious sandwiches. Now, I cringe at the even the slightest mention of it. My toasted Italian BMT on Italian Herbs and Chess has a faint bitter taste that it didn’t have before. My only hope is that the heartache will fade with time.
