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In less than five minutes, the doors to the bus opened again. I caught a glimpse of a bright green jacket, which went nicely with the red face of Betsy as she boarded the bus accompanied by the guide. No search party was required—she was located waiting in the checkout line in the gift shop, holding some postcards that portrayed scenes presently hidden by fog. Betsy has since assured me that she was fully aware of the departure time and was equipped with a time-telling device, and—she…

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We got off the bus and pushed through the stubborn mist until we were out of the way of the other disembarking passengers.

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked the group.

“Find the ladies room,” said Kris and Pat in unison.

“I don’t think they’ll let me in, so you go on ahead,” I said.

I walked with my mother as Kris and Pat sprinted ahead. To my surprise, my mother was quite familiar with our surroundings. I’ve mentioned that she’d already been nearly everywhere that we…

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