Page 5 of Believe in Caloosa Springs

I repeated the verse once more as I splashed some cold water on my face. Hands shaking, I used the small towel hanging on the rack to dry off.

“Porter, sweetheart… we need to get going, or you’ll miss your bus!”

”Yes, ma’am,” I called down the stairs as I hurried back into my bedroom to grab my gym bag and backpack. My palms were sweaty. I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat. This was going to be the last time I was going to see my parents for a very long time—possibly forever. Of course,theydidn’t know that. It had been such a weird day, trying to spend as much time with them as possible, while also trying not getting close enough for the guilt I felt to overspill and cause me to lose my nerve at the last minute.

I took a final glance around my childhood room and tried not to think about how I’d likely never see it again. The framed picture over my bed of the Washington, D.C. temple, its four spirespointing to Heaven. The signed baseball on my desk, sitting alongside a well-thumbed copy ofThe Book of Mormon. The tearaway calendar on my bedside, today’s date marked with an all-caps note: MISSION DAY! Before nostalgia could do me in, I took a deep breath and closed the door.

I trotted down the stairs, hooking my free hand around the banister to help me turn the corner.

“There you are, son. I swear you’re going to be late to your own funeral,” my father chuckled as he stepped out of the way, keeping us from colliding.

“Sorry. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

“Understandable,” my father said, a proud smile blooming across his face. “I was nervous when I went on my first mission. It’s natural. Just remember to keep your faith, and know that you are called to serve and help folks choose the right so they can enter the kingdom of God.”

I nodded and forced a smile, doing my best not to catch his eye.

“There you are! I thought I was going to have to come up there and drag you out of that room myself,” my mother chastised.

“Ease up, mama,” Dad said kindly. “Our boy is nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, honey. God is always with you. I’m the one who should be nervous! What am I supposed to do without my baby boy around the house to keep me company anymore?” My mother put on an exaggerated pout, but her eyes were misty.

“Yeah, Mom. I know,” I replied, giving her a smile. She reached up, wrapped her arms around my neck, and squeezed. I droppedmy bags and hugged her back, inhaling her familiar vanilla perfume, The smell of home.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said, clearing my throat as my voice threatened to crack.

She loosened her grip and I took a step back. “You’ll write to us, won’t you?”

I nodded. “Of course.” It wasn’t a lie. I’d already written her a letter.

“Okay, now you guys get out of here before you miss your bus,” she said. “I don’t want Elder Stevens having to go through any trouble sorting that out. There’s already so much planning and stress with the whole process. Return with honor, sweet Porter.”

I nodded, and picked my bags back up. Dad slapped me on the back, and I followed him out of the house.

***

I waved one final time as Dad pulled away from the curb and into the traffic leaving the bus terminal. I was supposed to be catching an overnight Greyhound out of Salt Lake City bound for Houston leaving at 8:15 PM, and from there I would be sent to a small town yet to be disclosed. That had been the plan, anyway. Well, it had beentheirplan.

My phone rang in my pocket.

“You here?” a nervous voice asked before I’d even managed a greeting.

“Yeah, I just got dropped off in the front.”

“Okay. You’re gonna walk through the main entrance of the station and past the ticketing counter towards the long-term parking garage. I’m on floor three, right by the elevators. Blue Ford Focus.”

“Got it,” I replied, making my way inside.

The call dropped as I got into the parking garage elevator. The doors closed slowly, and, with a slight screech, the elevator engaged and lifted me to the third floor. As the doors opened, I saw an older-looking blue sedan parked in a yellowed-off loading zone adjacent to the elevator.

Henry rolled down the driver’s side window and waved his arm wildly to get my attention. “Porter! Over here. Hurry up!”

I sighed and quickened my pace a bit until I was standing right at the window. Henry reached down and pulled the trunk release.

“Go!” he said, nodding towards the back of the car.

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