Home to Stay

AS DIANA MANEUVERED HER CAR through the traffic on Highway #1, she passed the Canada Olympic Park to her right and knew her turnoff was not much further. From here, traffic permitting, she would be home within the half-hour. Although she had never stopped referring to Aces Corral as her home, it was two years since she had last been there. She made her turn onto Sarcee Trail and felt the butterflies in her stomach come to life.

It had been an impulse to leave—no, not an impulse, she corrected herself, more of an abrupt necessity. The decision to leave had been a quick decision, but she knew that, had she stayed, she wouldn’t have survived.

The decision to come home had been just as abrupt. She supposed that the thought had been brewing in the back of her mind for some time, but last week she suddenly awoke one morning with the decision instantly made. She was going home.

She made the turn from Sarcee Trail onto Bow Trail, but it wasn’t until she turned onto the Old Banff Coach Road, driving through the area known as Coach Hill, that she felt her throat tighten. Easy girl, she told herself. You’ve covered a lot of distance today; just hang on a little longer.

When Diana was a young girl, the West Springs subdivision had not existed. Not yet a part of the city of Calgary, this area had consisted only of farms and acreages. Now, the open pastures and cropland of her youth had been converted into crowded urban lots on both sides of the road.

She felt a sense of loss as she remembered what her father had always said, “I will never move to the city, but if we stay here long enough, the city will move to us.” As a child of ten, she hadn’t understood his logic, but now as a woman of twenty-five, she saw that his prediction was coming true. She looked around and realized that the city was even closer to the ranch than the last time she traveled this road. The question was—how much closer?

Moments later, she felt a rush of relief as her question was answered. As the subdivision ended, the scenery suddenly changed to the one she remembered. She was delighted to know that the city had not migrated to them yet. From here, she knew, it was another ten minute drive.

Known as the foothills, this area was nestled between the prairies and the Rocky Mountains. You could see the land stretch for miles with an outline of the mountains as the background in the distance. The only obstruction of the view was the clusters of trees and perhaps a house every mile or so. This was good land—useful land—land where a person could make their living by growing a crop or raising livestock.

Although she appreciated the beauty of the towering mountains of British Columbia, with their snow-topped peaks year round, she never got over the feeling of being closed in while she was there. But this—this was the land she had grown up with and loved.

The trees she passed had an outline of green from the buds, which would soon turn to leaves. Although the spring air was still crisp, the bright noon sun shining through the windshield would have made the car uncomfortably warm, had Diana not had the cool air from the air conditioner gently blowing on her.

Noticing the Douglas’ house to her right, she knew it was only a matter of minutes before she would reach her destination. Diana pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road and out of the way of any traffic. Shifting the car into PARK, she turned off the ignition and stepped out. As she leaned against the front of the car, she took a cigarette from the package and placed it between her lips.

She noticed her hand shake as she held the flame from the lighter to the cigarette. The butterflies began fluttering again and she held her hand against her stomach to calm them.

Smoking was a habit she had given up the year before, but since making the decision to return, her nerves had started to become unravelled and she had picked up the habit once again. I know this is what I want, she thought, while looking around. It’s time to come home and stop running. I know I’m doing the right thing. So why am I so nervous?

Two years earlier, as Diana had packed her suitcases to leave, she knew she couldn’t stay. Now, she only knew she could no longer stay away.

“Excuse me.”

Broken from her thoughts, Diana looked up to see an older half ton truck, with signs of rust on the door, stopped beside her. The window was rolled down and a man Diana guessed to be about fifty was watching her.

“Need any help?”

“No thanks. I just stopped to stretch my legs.”

With that, the gentleman gave a wave of his hand as he stepped on the gas pedal and moved on. Before anyone else could stop to offer help to what appeared to be a stranded motorist, Diana put her cigarette out and got back in her car to finish her journey.

It was only a matter of minutes before she saw the driveway, slowed the car down and turned in. It was a long driveway, which curved around a mixture of poplar and spruce trees. A month from now, when the leaves had filled out, the trees would keep the house completely hidden from the road.

When the ranch-style bungalow was in sight, she saw two men loading an object onto a truck. As she got closer, she realized it was the dining room suite that had stood in her parents’ dining room for as far back as she could remember.

With a twist of the wrist, she pulled up in front of the garage door, stopped the motor and turned to pick her purse up from the front passenger seat. As she was putting the car keys into her purse, she heard the car door open.

“Diana!”