WE HAVEN’T ARRIVED IN WASHINGTON YET, AND SOMEHOW THE CITY WAS ALREADY CLEARING IT’S THROAT.

Washington Has Entered the Conversation

Washington, D.C. was chosen first because some places do not let you arrive casually.

They make you stand up straighter. Not because you are impressed. Because the buildings are clearly trying to intimidate everybody at once.

He liked that.

She found it theatrical.

“This city has columns,” he said.

“This city has commitment issues,” she said. “Every building looks like it wants to be taken seriously before breakfast.”

They were still in Pittsburgh when they made the decision, but D.C. had already entered the room. It sat between them on the map like an adult with too many opinions.

He saw history.

She saw marble, traffic, and people using words like “policy” when they meant “mess.”

That was the second rule of The Maplings Travelogue: every destination has two versions.

There is the version printed in brochures, polished and approved.

Then there is the version you feel when you get there.

The Maplings were interested in the second one.

He wanted to see what the country had built to explain itself.

She wanted to see what the country kept avoiding.

“D.C. is important,” he said.

“So is seasoning,” she said. “Importance alone does not save a thing.”

He looked over his glasses.

She smiled without apologizing.

That was the balance. He gave the journey structure. She gave it teeth. Without him, the Travelogue would become pure attitude and possibly several legal problems. Without her, it would become a well-organized educational pamphlet with nice shoes.

Neither was acceptable.

So they made a rule for Washington:

They would not go there to be impressed.

They would go there to observe.

The monuments. The streets. The people. The silence between what a place says it stands for and what it actually holds. The Maplings were small, but they were not naïve. Their glasses were round, not rose-colored.

He circled the city twice.

She added a small note beside it:

Ask hard questions. Wear better shoes.

He read it.

“That is not a travel objective.”

“It is if you want results.”

The route was no longer just a line from Pittsburgh to D.C. It had become a test. The first stop had to mean something. Not because every place needs a lesson, but because some places are too loud historically to be treated like scenery.

Washington was first.

Not because it was polite.

Because it had explaining to do.

Filed from somewhere between the root and the road,
Kimberly Ann Hawes
Creator of The Maplings

If it hits, we say it hits.
If it doesn’t, we let the silence do the damage.