Storm Warning

Cutting All Losses

                    It was actually very quiet when you are forced to be by yourself. I never thought I would miss the constant noise of others, but it’s weird… the things you miss when you are forced to go without. Like Sarah’s bad cooking. Or impromptu dance concerts in Maddie’s bedroom. Or movie nights at the school. I miss all of these. Hell, I miss dealing with bullies. They were almost worth the normal life.

                     I couldn’t even stand to turn the radio on in case it was Derek’s favorite music… Disturbed. I didn’t want to forget what I had, but I also don’t need to be reminded of it. Besides, music has the possibility to lull people into a sense of false security, which is not something I could afford right now. As I look around the inside cabin of the truck, I shake my head at all of the memories we had here in the front seats. Some good. Some bad. All mine.

                     I need to hurry up and ditch this truck before they report it.

                     Just as fast as the thought came to me, I was passing the welcome sign to New Hampshire. I drove for miles through the country of New Hampshire. Interesting. I never would have thought New Hampshire had undeveloped land, but then again, I never gave anywhere outside of my home much thought. That is going to be a barrier.

                     The trees on either side of the road are beginning to turn colors – red, orange, brown, yellow. As I pass this stretch of trees, I start to see the first house. It is a white house set about six miles back from the main road. There is a red barn with a brown roof off to the side. Beyond the house, I spot a fence that three… no… four horses are grazing near. There is a woman tending to the horse to the far right, a beautiful brown and white mustang. From this distance, it is impossible to tell if it is a mare or a stallion. The next horse is a midnight black filly that is prancing through the field. The next horse is a pure silver white that glints when the sun hits that coat just right. To the far left is full brown horse grazing near hay as its tail swings back and forth.

                     What I need is a little farther to the left but sitting firmly between the red barn and the white house… trucks. Two of them. I watch as little kids run in and around the property. No. Too risky. Too many people out of the house to catch me. I keep driving -- all too aware of the fact that my stomach dropped at the thought of stealing from others.A weakness, no doubt, that would come back to haunt me in later days.

                     Many of the other houses are much the same. Too dangerous despite being miles apart from one another. Still, this much open space would make it extremely difficult to hide, meaning I was at a higher risk of getting caught. And if I got caught, they might just decide to handle it themselves, which would be good for nobody. I shake my head in frustration. This isn’t going to work. It is the Friday before most schools start; they are probably trying to get the last rays of Summer before being stuck within stone walls.

                     It was another thirty minutes of driving before I even saw or came across my first gas station since arriving to New Hampshire. Good thing this truck’s gas tank was already full. Leave it to Derek to take care of me without even realizing it.

                     I sigh. I am running out of time. No, that’s not right. I am ALREADY out of time. They have to be looking for me by now. I am going to have to ditch the car and figure it out from there. I still don’t know how I will get around. I don’t want to steal, but there may be no choice. However, more important to note is that there is nothing to steal at this gas station other than the one car in the parking lot and the two at the pumps – all of which I would be hard pressed to take without getting busted first.

                     Shaking my head, I make the decision to ditch the car here anyway and quickly pull into the gas station parking lot. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary. It does not look particularly safe at this gas station. There are two pumps, both of which are currently being used.

                     One man is driving a black truck with patches of rust and faded paint with a confederate flag sticker on his blacked-out windows. He is wearing brown boots, blue jeans with lots of holes covered in a inky black substance, and an orange shirt with the sleeves cut off. He looks at me as I pull in and park. He spits to his right before removing the nozzle from his truck. He gets in his truck and quickly pulls away from the pump. I watch as he pulls out of the gas station. The other customer is a woman in her mid-forties, wearing an off-the-shoulder crop top and cut-off shorts with rhinestone boots. She puts up the nozzle and drives off in her ugly dark brown mini-van.

                     Shaking my head, I use the lack of people in the parking lot to my advantage. I step out of the truck and move over to the passengers’ side door. I move quickly; so, that I could do what needed to be done without being seen or hassled. I open up both first aid kits and remove the Advil, the gauze, the tape, the glue, the heat pack, alcohol wipes, and the band-aids. I transfer all of those items into the big pocket of my bag. I remove a water bottle, and the first aid materials rush to fill the empty spots of my bag. I usually wouldn’t tolerate the disorder, but being on the run… well, it doesn’t give you a lot of choice. I look at the black bag of cash before taking another 300 out and stuffing into the side pocket of my jacket, which I then tie around my waist. With jerking motions, I shove the bag under the passengers seat and pray that it is still there when the truck is returned to Derek. Gritting my teeth at the thought of leaving just over nine thousand dollars in a car unattended, I take a twenty out of the side pocket before putting on my bag and closing the keys in the glove compartment and manually locking each door.

                     I breathe long and deep before releasing my sigh. This is where everything truly begins and where I cut all of my losses. I don’t have time to give it much thought after right here in this moment; so, I give myself the few minutes to mentally cut the ties I have forged and to prepare for what is to come. I visual the act of the cut strings snapping free and flying freely through the air. One for Sarah. One for Meridian, Maine. One for my life at Meridian High. One for Senior Year. One for Derek. And finally, one for Maddie.

                     I walk into the gas station five minutes later with its trashed floors and with its bars on the window. I walk to the food and grab myself a pre-made turkey sandwich in cellophane wrap. I hope this sandwich doesn’t land me in the bathroom with food poisoning. And as an afterthought, I grab a state map from a metal rack of pamphlets.

                     I walk up to the counter and place my sorry looking sandwich and map on the counter. The girl behind the counter rings them up as she blows bubbles with her pink bubblicious gum. “5.65.” I hand over the twenty, and she counts out fourteen dollars and thirty-five cents in change… five different times. She hands it over and asks if I’d like a bag. I shake my head. I take the sandwich and map off of the counter and place them between my arm and my body as I stick my hand out to accept the change. Without another word, I walk out and head to the right.

                     After a quick glance around, I find I am alone. I crouch down, open my bag, and take three hundred dollar bills out of the pocket. I fold them before placing the change from my purchase into the pocket with the rest of my money. With a quick glance around to make sure there is still no one around, I slip off my shoe and place the folded money flat before sliding my foot back into place. I never got the chance to do that before everything that happened at the cabin and decided that it needed to be done sooner rather than later. Still, that’s so gross. But nonetheless, that leaves nearly two hundred in the bag pocket and six hundred on my person.

                     After a quick look at the map, I find that if I follow this stretch of road that I have been on since I left Derek and Maddie, it will take me all of the way to Vermont. I fold the map and place it in the top of my bag, and as I stand up, I sling the bag onto my shoulders. I scoop up the sandwich and water and go about unwrapping my sandwich as I start my trek on foot with determination and a makeshift plan.