Returning to Ithaca

In five days, I head to Ithaca to begin rehearsal for a staged reading of The Girl Who Cried Different.

The last time I was in Ithaca was in 1983. I had just graduated from law school. My sister was graduating from Cornell. We both needed to get back to Chicago. The plan? I was to pack up my stuff, collect her and her stuff, and then we were to drive home together.

I didn’t have a car, so I borrowed someone’s grandmother’s car. I hitched up a U-Haul trailer, loaded my belongings, and set off. I hadn’t gone far when the car broke down in the middle of nowhere. Pre-cellphones. Eventually, a tow truck came along. It was a weekend. The driver told me no one would be able to look at the car until the following week.

I had to get to Ithaca. My sister was getting kicked out of her place. I called the guy who loaned me the car and gave him the name of the service station and town where his grandmother’s car was to be towed. Then I called U-Haul. They sent someone with a U-Haul truck. We transferred my belongings into the truck, and off I went.

I don’t remember a thing about Ithaca, or packing up my sister’s stuff, or the ride home.

I will remember Ithaca this time. I’m not going to do a chore. I’m going to make art! Also, while I know our director, Courtney Young Socher, I don’t know anyone in the cast. I don’t know the space. And the book is so recently revised I can’t say I know it either — even though I’m the one that wrote it. I can’t wait to see what happens.