You Forgot My Suitcase

It had not been part of the plan to stay overnight in Cody.  After all, I had already paid for seven nights at our motel in Jackson.  We started out earlier than usual for the long drive because everything that involves going through Yellowstone Park takes longer than you think it should.  Getting to Cody requires a right angle drive into and out of the park – there is simply no hypotenuse way to get there, unless mountain climbing is your forte. And it’s not ours.   

By myself, I would not have been particularly drawn to Cody but because of my brother’s interest in Buffalo Bill, it was pretty high on the must-do list. We pull into town about 1 p.m. after navigating hairpin turns and curly-q roads for five hours. I have already made up my mind – no way will I be driving back on that road tonight. We have plans to see a musical variety show that will not begin until 8 p.m. If we get out at 10 p.m. and it took us over 5 hours to get here in daylight – well, you can do the math.  Like I said, no way, no how.

As we roll into town, the first mission is to find a motel for the night. I have no idea how much in demand rooms are in early July but I am not going to take a chance of being without one. We drive up and then down the Main Street, locating the theater where the show will be, perusing restaurants and shops. On the way, I fill my brother in on my thoughts. “I don’t think I want to drive all the way back to our motel in Jackson tonight, Dave. It took so long to get here, and it would be very, very late if we wait until after the show tonight.” I let this sink in. “Besides, “ I say. “I don’t want to take the chance of hitting a moose in the dark.” His face gets all serious, “Oh no,” he breathes.  He knows I hit a deer once and totaled my car. Then he brightens.  Staying here appeals to him. “Is ok, Dee,” he says agreeably. Choosing convenience (a place in town, in walking distance of our later destinations) over cost (Super 8 outside of town), we book our room and go to dump our stuff—oh, we don’t have any stuff.

For now it’s time to concentrate on what my brother wants to do – all of which involve the town’s tourist destinations. But late in the afternoon,  I suggest a trip to Walmart. I explain that we are going to need some things in order to stay overnight.  He considers the idea. “You forgot the suitcases,” he scowls slightly. “No,” I correct him. “I didn’t forget them, I just didn’t plan on staying here tonight. So we need to get some toothbrushes and stuff like that.”  “My pjs,” he says.

Inside Walmart, I grab a cart, tell him to stay with me, and head off toward the “health and beauty” section.  Toothbrushes. What color do you want, Dave? Blue. Guy after my own heart. Two blue, slightly varied, toothbrushes, check. Travel size toothpaste. Check. Travel size deodorant, Secret. Check. Travel size deodorant, Degree. Ch…. My brother objects, “Sport” he says.  “Oh Dave, they don’t have Sport kind in these small sizes. This will be ok for tonight. It all works the same.”  He doesn’t put up a fuss. Check.  I zip around the corner to hair care products. We need something to run through our hair in the morning. “Do you like long combs or short combs, Dave?” Give him a choice when he has a choice. Long comb, check.  It will work for both of us. Shower cap, check. I need this anyway, the  elastic is shot on mine at home. 

“We aren’t going to get a razor,” I tell my brother. I hope he isn’t going to argue about this.  He uses an electric one. “You’ll have to skip shaving in the morning and do it when we get back to Jackson tomorrow.” He laughs and rubs his chin, “I be Santa Claus,” he says. “Yes, you will,” I agree and keep moving.  I do a u-turn and head toward the clothing department. “Whoa,” my brother says – he’s not one to move too quickly. “Come on,” I say, “we’re in a hurry.” “Yes, Captain,” my smart-ass brother responds to my order – and adds a salute for emphasis.  I roll my eyes.

In the men’s department, I dart from display to display, very indecisive. I don’t want to spend much money here – my brother, like me, has way more clothes than he actually needs. New things are not on the agenda. I decide that we need a shirt for him to sleep in, a shirt for tomorrow, socks, and underwear. The shorts he is wearing, which are not yet dirty, will have to do.  I hold up a few t-shirts, different colors. “You like this? You like this? You like this?” He shakes his head at each one and says no. I sigh. “Back there,” he points. “Where?”  He retraces our steps and I follow. Stopping at a display, he picks up a black Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt. It has a huge eagle and an American flag in the middle, and Lynyrd Skynyrd emblazoned underneath. “Oh no,” I say. I imagine my mother rolling over in her grave if he were to venture out in that. “We are not buying Lynyrd Skynyrd.”  He sighs loudly, I’m such a pain in his neck. Now, my brother doesn’t even know who Lynyrd Skynyrd is, I know that. It is the eagle and the flag that have caught his eye. He has probably six at home with similar decoration, minus the band.

I pull him back over to the more conservative displays but I am still vacillating like crazy. Maybe I even look a little crazy, careening from display to display, picking the same things up over and over again, and rejecting them.  I pick up a polo shirt – cheap - $5. “What about this?” I beg my brother. “Look, they have it in light blue;  it will look nice with your shorts.” I hold my breath. “OK,” he says, “I pick that.”  We head toward the boys’ section to choose sneaker socks – my brother has really small feet so I grab a pair of plain white ones from the display before he has a chance to notice and tell me they are for “kids.”  Now we need something to sleep in. I look at the sea of colorful displays and do not want to wade back into the maze. I feel I am losing patience and I don’t want my brother to bear the brunt of that.   I glance at him. “OK,” I capitulate, “I will get you that eagle t-shirt if you promise to wear it only to sleep in.” “Oh, I do,” my brother says in all sincerity though  I’m sure he’s thinking what I don’t know won’t hurt me.  He fetches the t-shirt and carries it like a treasure.

I grab a pair of underwear, some sneaker socks, and a $5 t-shirt for myself. It’s blue, and I know I will wear it again. I feel badly about this as it violates my no-shopping policy. However, I decide that this doesn’t really count as “cheating” and congratulate myself that I have expended minimal funds on this unintended adventure.  Except for the motel, that is.  Before we head to the cash registers, we veer back to the pharmacy section to grab some nexium, which my brother will need in the morning.  The vitamins and calcium will wait until we return later in the day.  

Now we have something to put in the motel. My brother lays out the Lynyrd Skynyrd  t-shirt and smooths away imagined wrinkles. I remind him, “That’s to sleep in tonight, David.” He gives me a dramatic sigh.  “You forgot my suitcase,” he says again. I glare at him but laugh too.  I can’t win.

Shopping behind us, we head out for dinner and our show at 8, pausing along the way to look in stores and admire all the souvenirs and hand-made items. When we finally return to the motel later that night, my brother seems confused. “My medicine,” he says. “We bought you the nexium, which is really what you need,” I said. “You can take the rest of the stuff when we get back to the motel. You’ll be fine,”  I reassure him. “Oh, ok,” he says. Then he laughs. “My pjs,” he says. “No suitcase.” I remind him of the eagle t-shirt he can wear to sleep in tonight with his underwear. I tell him that I don’t have all my regular things either, including my nightgown. And I will sleep in the t-shirt I have on. “Ok,” he says again. He’s not really one to go with the flow – he likes his routine.  “Isn’t this an adventure?” I say to him as I climb under the sheets.  Mmmm hmmm, he says while flipping through the channels with the remote. He doesn’t sound convinced.

“Don’t stay up too late,” I tell him as I plump my pillow and settle down.  I can sleep through anything, including the SciFi channel he’s stopped on. “Yes, captain,” he teases.  “Smarty,” I answer back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says. I turn over. “You forgot my suitcase.”