“Oh? Tell me what happened.” She set down the groceries she’d been carrying and looked at me.
“What happened doesn’t matter. I need to leave. And I need you to be okay with that. Don’t look for me. Don’t report me missing.”
She nodded and bent to give me a hug.
“Call me when you can, so I know you’re all right,” she said softly and gave me one last squeeze.
“I’ll try. Tell Dad I love him. I love you both.” I stood and shrugged into my backpack. “And if Penny comes around, let her know I left, and I’m not coming back. Ever.”
The thread of her will changed suddenly. It grew soft and slippery. I fought to maintain my hold.
“Ever?” she said.
The thread seemed to melt away further, and I struggled to ignore how badly I knew I was hurting her.
“Mom, listen to me. Penny knows I’m different, and she’ll do everything she can to get someone to believe her. If I stay, I won’t be safe. I have to leave.” My voice broke on the last word. Regardless, I firmed my hold on her will.
The thread stopped softening as she nodded.
“We love you, too,” she said. Then, she left the kitchen. I could hear her crying.
I released her will, and with nothing more than my backpack, I walked out the door.
As the sun set, I realized my mistake. I hadn’t packed a sleeping bag or blanket. To be fair, neither would have fit in my backpack. Miles separated me from home, and I wasn’t about to go back. Instead, I found a quiet tree in a park, leaned against the trunk, and dozed in the dark.
A few hours later, I woke shivering. Silence surrounded me. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared up at the stars. I’d stopped asking the universe “Why?” a long time ago. The only question I ever asked anymore was “What next?”
When I’d left home, I’d planned to hitch rides and see where they took me. Older kids talked about hitching all the time. It seemed the best way to disappear. But, I had no money to feed myself.
As if the universe listened, a man walked past my spot. I quickly stood.
“Excuse me, sir. Would you be able to spare any money?”
When he kept walking, I grabbed his will and repeated my question. I didn’t demand that he help me, only that he consider it.
He stopped moving and turned toward me. He frowned slightly and rubbed his jaw.
“I don’t have much but I could spare a dollar. Will that help?”
“It would. Thank you,” I said, trying to ignore my guilt. Using my ability for personal gain made me sick. Yet, what other choice did I have? The faster I left town, the safer I would be. If I thought of what I did as self-preservation, it made what I was doing tolerable.
He reached into his wallet and pulled out a dollar. I felt better when I saw it wasn’t his only bill. After thanking him again, I left the park.
Walking kept me warm so I stayed on the move as the sky lightened. The rising sun heated my back . I continued to speak with people I ran into and forced them to consider helping me.
I managed to collect ten dollars before one man offered something other than money; he offered me a ride to the next town. I gratefully accepted, and we drove west, away from Penny and my parents.
Bud was a mellow fellow who didn’t ask many questions. He still liked to talk, though. He’d woken up that morning and decided he wanted to visit his brother in Canada. So he’d quit his job and gotten in his car. He wasn’t sure if he had enough money to get there, but it didn’t seem to concern him.
The prospect of leaving the States intrigued me, and I asked if I could tag along. He smiled, told me I was good company, and agreed to take me with him. Over the next few days, we made our way north.
At our first stop just on the other side of the Canadian border, I told him I was ready to travel on my own and thanked him for the ride. I couldn’t take any more of the rank smell from his hand-rolled cigarettes.
With a wave, I walked away from Bud. I’d put enough distance between Penny and me. Yet, every time someone glanced my way, nervousness would grip me. A little voice told me I needed to keep moving and find somewhere to hide until Penny forgot.
Recalling her furious expression, I wondered how long that might take.