The Sky’s the Limit: My Journey with Maryellen

The next morning the Larkins load the car with a hamper of food from Grandmom, and wave goodbye to Grandpop holding Tom and Grandmom holding Mikey. Maryellen calls that she loves them, sad to leave her grandparents. It strikes me I’m lucky Gran lives with my family.

The station wagon feels too spacious: Mr. and Mrs. Larkin up front, Carolyn in back, Beverly, Maryellen, and me in the middle. Maryellen sketches with impressive ease, capturing a tree, house, horse, or haystack in a few strokes.

I ask how Maryellen does it. Maryellen says probably the same way I learn constellations, practice. She likes to doodle the way I like to watch the stars, and we agree I need a telescope, though that costs money. Carolyn suggests I earn it, and Maryellen says I’m good with kids, maybe as a babysitter or mother’s helper. Maybe, though the only little kid I know is Daria, and I’m not sure I want much time with her.

We drive north and east out of Georgia into North Carolina, past towns whose names feel familiar, Franklin, Canton, Clyde. After Asheville I sit up straighter. I know this road. My stomach knots at the Cataloochee ski area, this is my home, and sure enough, a sign welcomes us to Cedar Top.

Except this is Cedar Top decades before I was born. I recognize a few buildings, the old school, a church, the library, some houses, but the town feels smaller and sleepier than the one I know.

Mrs. Larkin thinks it’s pretty and, though it’s only three o’clock, wonders if they should stop for the night. Carolyn wants to stop, Maryellen wants to keep going, Beverly agrees, and Mr. Larkin asks what I think.

What do I think? Part of me is curious to see what life was like here before I was born, but part of me worries that staying is asking for trouble. Will I give away that I know this town and confuse the Larkins, who think I’m from New York, like my supposed Aunt Betty?