Not All Who Wander Are Lost-Part 1

Every morning of my life I’d woken, stared out the window, and smiled. Everything else after that was mixed up. I can hardly remember now. But those first few moments of the day, waking up, looking out the window, and smiling, are the parts of the day I remember most clearly. Always. Then I jump out of bed, yank on my bathrobe and slippers and clamber down the stairs to my annoying little brother and worrying mother. Usually. Sometimes things go differently. Like, last week I woke up, stared out the window, smiled, and then I remembered we had a math test and I groaned and hid myself under the covers. But the first few minutes of each morning are the best part of my day. During those first moments I don’t remember the math test, or the teasing kids at school, all I think about is how great it is to be alive in such a wonderful world.
My mother, brother and I live in this teeny cottage buried away in the depths of Yosemite Valley. My seven-year-old brother always complains that we’re so far into the valley we’re hidden from civilization. Really what he means is he never gets to have any of his school friends come over. That’s the one and only way my brother and I are like each other. We have tons of problems at school. To start off, the nearest bus stop is two miles away. If we miss the bus, my middle school and his elementary school are 5 miles away from the bus stop. My brother and I are late for school a lot. Because we live so far away from ‘civilization,’ we have a terrible reputation.
For instance, in 2nd grade we had class elections. I decided to run for president. When the day came for us to vote, everyone who was running had to write a paragraph on why they think he/she should be president. My sworn enemy, Marrissa, who happened to be the little sister of the most popular girl in school and very popular herself, decided that telling lies about me would be the best way to win the election. I can still remember some of her speech, “…remember the frog that was put in Ms. Wiley’s desk? Miron put it there. And I, being such a good friend, didn’t say anything. But I thought that now, since it was so long ago, maybe Miron won’t get a punishment, so I thought I’d tell the truth. So vote for me, Marrissa, because I am such a great friend, and I always tell the truth.” I remember my cheeks getting hot, and tears swelling in my eyes. My favorite teacher, Ms. Wiley, was staring at me as if I was a stray dog she wanted to kick. When I tried to tell her it wasn’t true, of course she didn’t believe me.
Ever since then people have always stayed away from me, and various false rumors spread, like if you touched me they would take you away and lock you up in the woods. Of course the rumors have matured since 2nd grade, but not in a good way.
In middle school, my only friend is a girl named Annie. She’s not what you would call gorgeous, but I think she’s pretty. She has short strawberry blonde hair, cut so that from the back she almost looks like a guy. She has deep, emerald green eyes. That’s the one reason I stick with her; because of her eyes. Everyone is afraid of those eyes. If you catch her in a bad mood, she’ll pierce you right down to the bone until you start whimpering and fall on your knees in shame. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen. She has a fiery temper and a silver ring through her nose. Mom totally hates her nose ring. She says that if Annie just got rid of ‘that horrid thing’ then she might be called beautiful.
As for my brother, my mom and I don’t really know. He keeps to himself. I once saw him on the playground at recess with another boy about his age. Everyone else was staying away from them. It made me feel bad. I mean, it’s partly my fault. The little kids in the elementary school hear stuff from their older siblings, and then they end up staying away from my brother. But hey, he could try to have friends. At least I tried. But you know I’m not surprised he doesn’t have any friends. I mean he is so annoying. Always coming into my room without knocking, stealing my stuff. Sometimes I wish he had never existed.
Anyway, my favorite season is winter. Everyone else’s in school is summer, because there is no school. I like winter, because if it snows really hard then we get a snow day and there is no school, and on the first day of snow, our cottage transforms into the White World.
The White World is what I called our cottage every year after the first night the snow fell when I was six. I named it that because that’s just what it looks like: every thing is covered in an amazing blanket of pure glistening white.
So on this particular morning I woke with a yawn and gazed out the window. Slowly my chapped pale pink lips broke into a smile. Then my whole face glowed with such radiance that it seemed as if the sun had broken out through the dark, gloomy clouds in the sky, and brought a dazzling azure to the atmosphere. I imagined that someone was painting the scene before me: soft delicate lumps of white covered the ground our house sat rudely on. The heavens gently touched the white at the horizon, at no exact point. They just blended into each other.
“Miron are you up yet? Hurry on down, your breakfast is getting cold.” My visions shattered by this intrusion I shoved my bathrobe over my shivering body and slid my feet into my fuzzy purple slippers.
Today was the day I’d been waiting for all year. The day the transformation had taken place. The White World was here at long last. As I trudged downstairs my brother excitedly pointed out the window at the coverlet of sparkling white outside. I sarcastically nodded in fake excitement.
“Did you see all the snow Miron? Did you? Did you? Maybe we’ll have a snow day today!” Jason yelled as he plopped his skinny little body into one of the chairs around the table.
“I highly doubt that. It’s only the first day of snow.” My mother said bringing over a plate of steaming pancakes to my brother and then me. I watched with curious fascination as Jason shoved the pancakes down as fast as he could. I rolled my eyes.
“Jason, do you always have to be such a pig? You could at least pretend to be human.”
“Miron, do you always have to be so bossy? You could at least take that mask off your face. It’s not Halloween.” Jason replied to my sarcastic comment when he had finished his bite. I shot him a defying glance but returned to my own pancakes.

After breakfast I ran back up to my room and got dressed. I took another look out the window and saw sprays of sunlight reflecting off the snow. Yanking my eyes from the window I pulled on some tight, worn blue jeans and my purple turtleneck. I sidestepped from my dresser to the mirror hanging on my wall. I peered into it. A girl a little older than 13 looked out at me. She had beautiful long wavy blonde hair and shining blue eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her ears pierced with gorgeous hoop earrings of real silver.
In your dreams. I thought at the person looking back at me. I blinked a couple of times, looked in the mirror and faced the facts. Plain, stubborn brown hair fell to Miron’s slender shoulders. Her dark, shadowed, emerald eyes stared back at her. She stared defiantly at her skinny nose. She pulled at her ear lobes: not pierced. She grasped the gold locket around her neck. Her mother and father had given it to her when she was born. Then her parents split. Poor Jason had never seen his father. Miron had seen him, but she couldn’t remember him at all because she had been so little.
Miron hadn’t heard anything from her father, ever. At times she wanted to meet him so bad it hurt. Everyday she checked the mailbox for any sign of a letter. Her mother wouldn’t say anything about him. Miron wondered if she even remembered him.

“Miron! Hurry up your going to miss the bus!” my mom’s voice shouted from down stairs.
“Coming! Just a sec!” I shouted back. Quickly I fumbled with the latch to my make-up box and spread some chap stick on my cracked lips. I rubbed them together, grabbed my coat and rushed down stairs.
My mom handed me a piece of crisp toast as I opened the front door. A blast of icy wind blew in forcefully. Quickly kissing my mom and grabbing my brother’s hand I pulled Jason out the door with me and struggled to shut it again.
Finally, when we were outside in the snow, I buttoned up Jason’s jacket and finished the toast. Hand in hand, although you could hardly call it that the way I yanked my brother along marching against the cruel wind. When we arrived at the bus stop our noses and cheeks were so red you might have thought we had put make-up on for a show. The bus came soon after we got to the bus stop and we clambered on. I immediately went to the back to sit with Annie, also bundled up to the highest degree. But Jason just stood there. None of the elementary kids on the bus motioned to move over. Jason looked worriedly at me. I shot him the don’t-look-at-me look. Finally I rolled my eyes and scooted over as much as I could and Jason sat next to me, looking perfectly happy. Annie raised one eyebrow but didn’t say anything. There was an uncomfortable silence the whole way to the elementary school.
Jason slowly trudged off the bus when we came to his stop. As the bus drove away in the direction of the middle school I put my face to the window and watched as all the kids ran up to the school gates and Jason lumbered along behind. Rolling my eyes again I turned to Annie who was frantically trying to get my attention.
“Did you hear? Mrs. Swanson is going out with Mr. Hank! Jenny said that her friend’s cousin saw them at The Blue Moon restaurant! The Blue Moon, Miron! Can you believe it? The Blue Moon is the most romantic restaurant in town!”
I wonder what Jenny’s friend’s cousin actually saw, and how truthful can this report be if it was passed from Jenny’s friend’s cousin to her friend to Jenny. “I never thought Mrs. Swanson would see something in Mr. Hank. I mean, he’s the janitor.” I said aloud.
Annie chatted ceaselessly all the way to the middle school. It was like she thought up so many things to say the night before that she just had to spit them all out at once. I didn’t really listen to most of her stories though, because most of the people she talked about I didn’t even know.
The bus stopped outside the school gates, but Annie continued to talk. Together we walked down the hall, Annie still talking. When we reached our lockers, which happened to be right next to each other, she stopped and said, “Hey Miron, you wanna come to my party? It’s happenin’ after winter vacation at my place. I’m invitin’ like half the school. Come on, it’ll be fun. Cory’ll be there.”
Although I never said anything, Annie had already made the assumption that I had a crush on a boy in my History class named Cory. Which I did. He had this awesome dark hair that sometimes fell over his eyes and a smile that always made my knees go jelloid. A couple of times I had caught his dark, curious eyes peering at me. But whenever I turned to return his gaze his eyes quickly darted away from mine.
I blushed at Annie’s last remark and pretended not to hear. I switched some books in my locker with the ones in my backpack and stood up.
“Yea, that sounds cool. I’ll come.” I was surprised at how much I sounded like Annie.
“Great!” Annie sound truly impressed. She had probably figured my mom wouldn’t let me go.
“You sure your ‘rents will let you go?” She added anxiously. I looked down uncomfortably. “Oh, sorry.” She said realizing what she had said.
“It’s okay. I mean, I barely even knew my dad.” I reassured her. She smiled and together we walked to our science class as the bell rang.
I got through school, but not before several harsh words had been thrown at me. I sighed as the bus screeched to a stop and I clambered off at the elementary school. I stuck my hands in my pockets and bent my head down against the wind. I waited under the cover of one of the buildings until the bell rang for them and all the little kids came rushing out. I searched the mass of kindergarten through fifth graders until I found one small little boy sitting forlornly on a bench against the classroom. I trudged up to Jason and silently we walked together to the bus stop as we had done that morning.
When we reached the little wooden door of our house I noticed that great puffs of black smoke were pouring out of the red-bricked chimney. Mom must have made soup-again. I gave a silent groan. I had been sick just that week and had had enough soup to feed an entire army. When my mom opened the door she pulled us inside quickly. Jason stripped off his wet clothes as fast as he could and ran over to where my mom was mixing hot chocolate. I took my time scraping all of the snow out of each of my boots and slowly pulling off my hat, trying to use up as much time as possible before I had to do homework. Giving a giant yawn I stretched myself out on the couch like a cat. I pretended to sleep as my mom scowled and Jason jumped on me.
“Get off! Get off! Get off!” I yelled. I jumped up and yanked the clinging Jason off my arm.
“Ugh you bratty little thing! Why do you have to be so annoying?” I asked him as I marched upstairs.
Jason made a face and stuck his tongue out at me. Geez if they could send one man to the moon why couldn’t they send them all? I stomped my feet noisily up the stairs to my bedroom.
I collapsed on my bed. I just lay there with my head on my pillow until my mom called me down for dinner. Then I slipped into my bathrobe and slippers and trudged down the steps.
Dinner was unusually quiet. I saw a sort of half-scared, half-surprised look in my mom’s eyes. What was wrong with her? Did she accidentally put salt in the soup again? I looked down uncomfortably at the swirling broth in my bowl. Finally, to break the silence I said, “Annie invited me to this party and I’m going.”
Surprisingly my mom acted as if she hadn’t heard me. She just looked down at her bowl and absently said, “Alright.”
Alright. Alright? What was that supposed to mean? I figured something was bugging her, so I didn’t say anything more. But after dinner she sent Jason to bed and called me over.
“Miron. Sweetheart. I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, but I suppose there is no other way than to just tell you right out.”
Oh no. Here comes the your-trying-to-grow-up-too-fast speech.
“Mom save your breath. You know I don’t like any boys and no boys like me. (Only half true, I thought to myself) And you know I would never take a drink at the party…”
Then my mom interrupted me. It surprised me one because usually my mom is super polite and two, because she always wants to hear what I have to say.
“Sweetie this isn’t about the party. You can go to the party. It’s about your father.”
I stared. It was so unbelievable I almost laughed aloud until I saw the look in her eyes. I looked at my feet. My father? My father probably doesn’t even know he has a 13-year-old daughter who is in a major social crisis. He probably didn’t even know Jason was alive! Why, after all these years, would my mom want to talk about my father?
“We got a letter from him today” she continued, “He wants you and Jason to come down and visit him during the month off for winter break.”
This news was so startling that I just stood there with my mouth wide open staring at my mom in disbelief. Then I started to get angry. Why does he care about us? He’s never seen me besides when I was born! He’s never even seen Jason! He dumped my mother right when she needed the most help! Why does he want to see us now? What was wrong with my mom? Why did he dump her? What’s his problem?
Out loud I said, “O-okay.” Okay? Is that all I can say? OKAY! What was wrong with me? Why didn’t I speak up? “NO! He didn’t want to see us before so what’s so different about now?”
I just stood there and said, ‘okay’ and then my mom turned and started crying. It hadn’t occurred to me before that I had never seen my mom cry. I wondered at this change in her and decided it would be best to leave her alone. Silently I crept up the stairs. In my room I flung myself on the bed and cried out my anger.

The next morning I stretched, looked out the window at the gentle slopes of snow outside, smiled, and then I remembered the night before and hid myself under the covers. Maybe it was a dream. Yeah, that’s it. I dreamt it all. I thought half-hopefully. I skipped downstairs and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my mom.
Obviously she had been up all night crying, and I felt bad for her. Her face was an amazing sight: grayish rings beneath her eyes, her nose swollen red from crying. Her lips trembled when she saw me. Beside her stood Jason, pale and resolute, trying so hard to be ‘cool’ and not cry.
Breakfast was silent again, and so was the walk to the bus stop. Misfortune seemed to have befallen us that day because we missed the bus and had to march through the snow to school. I was 10 minutes late for my first period class and Jason 30. At the end of the school day Annie came home with me because she wanted to ‘touch up and confirm’ all the details for the party. I had only half-heartedly agreed. I knew my mom would kill me but I had more important things to think about.
When we got home my Mom hardly said a word when she saw Annie and I come through the door. It was as if this happened on a regular basis.
“So I was thinking of putting up black and red streamers, but Jenny said she would never come to a party with black and red streamers so I said “How about black and blue?” and she just gave me this dirty look. I dunno what her problem is. What color streamers do you want?”
We were sitting on the floor of my room with party magazines spread all around us.
“Definitely black and red.” Though the words came out of my mouth, there was no meaning behind them. Annie sensed it.
“What’s with you today? Is it about Cory? What’s goin’ on?” She looked at me so fiercely with those piercing eyes it felt as if she was looking right through me.
“Well, erm, well…I’m sort of, mad, and uh, well, glad and, maybe kind of sad too, I guess, all at the same time…I think.” Under her sharp stare I felt defenseless, small and vulnerable. I darted my eyes away from hers and pulled my knees in close to me. Annie softened her glare. Slowly she spoke.
“It, well, doesn’t have anything to do with your, erm, parents, does it?” I was shocked by this correct interpretation and jealous too.
“Yes. Partly. I shot at her coldly. “Well, no, wholly.” I added, seeing the hurt look on her face.
“Yes. I, erm, got a letter from my dad…” I couldn’t finish. I had tried to hold back the tears for longer than I could handle. They fell quickly, hot tears that stung my eyes. Annie bewildered and out of instinct, quickly moved beside me and held me until the tears finished.
When I had gotten myself together I brought the letter to Annie and let her read it. I watched her expression carefully. Her face had been soft with understanding, but now her lips hardened grimly and her eyes pierced the letter as if to burn it. I had never seen Annie like this before. Now she stood, casting the letter on the floor.
“What does your Dad think he’s doin’? So I guess now he thinks this is the best time to ask you and your brother to visit? What didn’t he like about you guys before?”
I was paralyzed. I couldn’t believe it. I had to believe it. Here was Annie, saying what I had been thinking all day long. And yet, I didn’t take her side. I felt bad for my father, and I defended him.
“Hey look. Maybe he had to find a place suitable enough for Jason and I to come to. Give him a break, will ya?”
I guess Annie thought I was on her side because she said, “Well screw you and your father.” With that she walked out of my door.
I ran after her. “Annie! Wait! Please listen! That was exactly what I was thinking! You have to understand me. Wait!” Annie stopped in the middle of the stairs and looked up, almost with sadness in her eye.
“Look Annie, I’m sorry. I guess I just felt I was the only one who could say those things about my dad.” She looked truly sorry.
“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t right to talk like that. Look, I gotta get goin’, ok?. See ya, Miron.”
I watched as she slipped on her coat and boots and marched out the front door. With heavy feet I made my way back up to my room. I fell on to my bed in tears.

When my Mom came up to get me for dinner, she found me asleep on the bed. Grumpily I trudged behind her to the dinner table. Another silent dinner. Only once did I venture to ask, “How was your day, mom?” She shot me the I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it look. Nothing else was said.
The Friday before winter break my mom took Jason and I into the kitchen for a little ‘family talk.’
“Your father wants you to go to him during the winter break. It’s only a month.” I knew the last remark was merely to calm herself down; Jason and I already knew winter break was a month.
“You can go only if you want to. It’s your choice.” Her eyes were begging us not to go, and I also wondered how she would survive the month here alone without us.
“You have to choose quickly. I’m sorry for the short notice.” She barely got these words out before she broke down and cried.

I sat on the bench waiting for the bus with Jason, my Mom, and Annie. I couldn’t bear to look at my mom’s face because it was red with crying and also red with the coldness of the weather. Jason was pale as death itself. I wished Annie would stop looking as if I had smacked her, and that the weather would cheer up a bit and not seem as if the world was going to end in my absence.
When the bus arrived we all hesitated for a moment, then Annie squeezed me so hard she almost took the breath out of me. When she let go I could see tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Black and red streamers when I get back, okay?” I said. Annie smiled. I hugged and kissed my Mom, which took a while because she wouldn’t let go of me. Jason hugged mom but refused to kiss her. I took a seat at the back of the bus with Jason right beside me, and we pressed our noses against the icy window as the bus drove away.

Sitting at the back of the bus, I pulled my coat closer to my body. I stared out the window at all the miles going by. We were going down a winding road cut closely to the cliff going straight up into the mountains on my right. On my left the ground fell away into the valley hidden under the mist of the morning. The snow at the side of the road slowly melted away as we descended into the valley. The trees in the distance were pale gray shadows against the red of the sun. I turned with difficulty because of my bulky coat to Jason. He was staring at his feet, deep in thought.
“Hey, Jason. This isn’t a library. You can talk. Pssst. Jason?” He didn’t look up. Exasperated I turned away and leaned my elbow on the window. Fine. If he didn’t want to talk to pass the hours of this stupid trip, then he didn’t have to. I had better things to think about.
The truth was, I had so many things going on in my mind I didn’t know what to think about first. I was scared and excited at the same time. I felt as if my parents were pulling me apart. I was feeling very sorry for myself. Out of the pack I had brought with me I pulled out a bag of chips. I ate a few, and then offered some to Jason. He turned slowly, and took the chips from my hand. He didn’t eat them.
What was wrong with him, anyway? Guys are supposed to have a craze on junk food. And here was my weirdo little brother taking chips from me and not eating them!
“Jason, you’re supposed to eat the chips. Like this.” Sarcastically I moved his arm holding the chips to his mouth. Mechanically he ate them. Really, brothers can be quite dim.

The bus ride was super boring, because neither Jason nor I said a word after the chips incident. When the bus finally stopped, I had difficulty getting up, because of my annoying and huge coat and because my legs were stiff from the four hour drive.
Standing at the bus stop Jason and I were confused. We had no idea who to look for. My mom had told me that he had black hair and a dark mustache. Well, that was how she remembered him from when I was born. 13 years ago. Great. Two kids stuck at the bus stop looking for their long-lost father whom they had never seen before. What a fantastic day this had turned out to be.
A voice called out my name. Shocked I turned. Standing about ten feet away from us was a tall man, who, in younger days must have been handsome. He had shoulder-length dark hair, and his face looked as if it hadn’t been shaved for a very long time. His eyes seemed clouded over with pain. He had a huge nose, which spread, all over his face when he smiled. He had at least five gold teeth. He was dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans. From the start I knew his life hadn’t been perfect after he split up with mom.
My dad led us to a taxi and we all climbed in. The man sitting in the front seat, who supposedly was my father, kept looking back and smiling at Jason and me. What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he ever seen two kids before?
“Wow. Well, it’s, erm, good seeing ya.” What was he saying? I could tell he wasn’t very good at this whole, parenting business.
Since Jason was still pale and silent, I said, “Um, ya. Good seeing you too. Long time no see.” I added as a joke.
He didn’t get it. He turned kind of red, which affected his nose in a bad way, and answered, “Erm, ya.”
What was wrong with this man? This wasn’t the cool, loving father I’d imagined! He couldn’t be my dad, he just couldn’t!
He was. He lived in this teeny apartment on the top floor. It was a mess. Everything from bills to clothes to food was on the floor. As he led us through the mess, half-walking, half-stumbling, he led us to what appeared to be two beds, except that they were covered in junk also. With a slight smile he quickly wiped it off onto the floor.
“So, uh, let’s sit down here and you can tell me a bit about yourselves, eh?” He was seriously acting as if he didn’t know us at all. HELLO! WE’RE YOUR KIDS! YOU KNOW, THE ONES YOU LEFT WITH YOUR POOR WIFE!!! I wanted to scream at him. Instead I said,
“Well, you know, the usual. School. We go home. I help with dinner. We go to bed.” Without your help all these years! I wanted to add on but I bit my tongue.
He seemed to get the message.
“Alright. Um, you wanna go out to dinner?” Typical. A man with this kind of apartment was either not able to cook, or not able to find the kitchen.

I must say, dinner was pretty good. He took us to an Italian restaurant, not too fancy, not too casual. I happily ate my plate of spaghetti and garlic bread. Jason had the same. My father ordered something that looked like fish, except it was covered in redish-orange sauce.
We slept that night in the two beds that he had cleared off for us. Just before we went to sleep my dad came over and said awkwardly,
“Uh, good night kids. Sweet dreams. I’m, uh, going to be out tonight, so, uh, yeah. See you in the morning.”

Golden shafts of light were springing in through the window above the beds when I woke up. Jason was still asleep. Slowly I sat up, and stared out the window beside our beds, expecting to see the familiar towering trees covered in snow. Instead I was shocked to see ugly brick apartment buildings and numerous cars honking irritably. For the first time in my life I didn’t smile. I covered my ears with my pillow to drown out the alien sounds.
After a couple of minutes I sat up and looked around for my dad. I found him lying face down on a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner. Quietly I waded through the sea of mess and tapped him on the shoulder. He didn’t move. I leaned down and put my ear close to his mouth to see if he was breathing. Gross. His breath smelled like beer. Stealthily I sneaked back to the beds. To pass the time I stared up at the ceiling and made up a poem in my mind. It wasn’t very good, but hey, it was 8:00 in the morning!
Jason stirred beside me. He sat up in bed and looked around with dazed eyes. He looked at me and then slid back into bed again.

At around 9:30 Jason finally got up and together we crept towards our dad. First I shook him gently. Nothing. I shook him harder. Nothing. I started to get really annoyed. I whispered in his ear,
“Dad, come on, time to get up!” Nothing. Was he dead? I looked at his chest. Ever so slightly it moved up and down, at a normal pace.
“Ugh! Get up Dad! Come on!” I said in an irritated whisper, more to myself than to him. I looked to see what Jason was doing and found him searching intently in the sea of mess.
“Jason, what are you-.” He held up an alarm clock, ticking away softly. Without another word I took it from him and wound it up. A couple seconds later the alarm clock went off, right by my Dad’s ear. We heard a groan and then slowly an irritated face looked up from the blankets. Jason and I put on cheesy smiles. Slowly and with seemingly great difficulty my dad sat up straight and stared at us. At first he seemed amused, and then his brows furrowed and he set his teeth.
“What in tarnation do you kids think you’re doing? I was sleeping! Can’t you ever give a guy some rest? What are you lookin’ at? Oh, so now you expect me to feed you? Get your own breakfast!” With that he fell back onto the blankets.
Carefully I prodded him again. Jason recoiled as if he was afraid our dad would reach out and bite him. What happened to the kind, stupid man we had met yesterday? Who was this person? Was this some kind of joke? Why is he so cruel? And mean? And rude?
Jason stood up and made his way back to the beds. He hid himself under the covers. What was going on? Did I miss something? Did I skip a page of my life-story?
I joined Jason on the bed, and we had a conference.
“Okay, so here’s what we know: We know that there was a man who took us to this apartment, who was kind of stupid. And we know that the man sleeping on those blankets is completely different from the man we met yesterday. So…maybe our dad has multiple personalities?”
Jason rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I know, it’s a stupid idea, but can you think of anything better?”
“Wait. What did he say to us before we went to bed?”
“Uh, sweet dreams?”
“No, no, no, after that.”
“Er, see you in the morning?”
“No, no. Wait. Yeah! He said, ‘I’m going to be out tonight.’
“So?”
“So, he went out!”
“Uh, yeah but-wait, you’re not saying-.”
“Yeah. Maybe he got electrified, and now he thinks he’s someone else.”
Really, boys can be quite dim.
“Electrified? Come on, Jason.”
“Uh, poisoned?”
“No.”
“Caught on fire?”
“NO!”
“Stabbed?”
“NO, NO, NO!”
“Turned into a zombie by a witch?”
What do seven-year-old boys watch on television these days?
“OH MY GOD. JASON. YOU NEED A SERIOUS REALITY CHECK!”
“Strangled?”
Obviously Jason was having fun inventing all the different possibilities the man we met yesterday could have been slain and then reincarnated into this madman so I climbed over to the other bed and buried my head in the pillows.
Eventually Jason crept over and whispered into my ear,
“What do you think happened?”
From underneath the blankets I answered,
“I don’t know, Jason. I really don’t know. But I would like to find out.”
Jason was a bit surprised at this answer. He backed away and said,
“How do you plan to do that?”
“Tonight we’ll follow him to wherever he goes.”

You know the saying, ‘easier said than done?’ Well, that is what basically happened. I had been pondering over this idea after Jason reminded me what my dad had said the night before. Jason was scared of the idea. He could be so babyish and pessimistic at times. He was saying out loud all the bad things that might happen to us until I covered his mouth with my hand. The truth was, I was thinking about all those things too.
Jason and I sat on the beds until around noon when our hibernating father finally woke up. He was extremely grumpy, more even than your usual grumpy-morning person. After he had called me ‘moron’ and Jason ‘wimp’ (which made Jason cower even more) he took us out to breakfast.
The meal was terrible. He laughed cruelly at us when we accidentally dropped a piece of bacon on the floor. Whenever we tried to talk (mostly me) he would laugh and say, ‘children must be seen and not heard.’
Once I started to get really angry and said,
“Well, at least my hair is combed and presentable.” He flew into a terrifying rage of anger. His face turned bright red, and I swear I could see flames in his eyes. He knocked over my plate onto the floor and had his fist raised when two waiters came over and pulled him back. Jason and I kept silent for the rest of the meal.
After breakfast he took us to the supermarket where he bought two six-packs of beer. On our way back to the apartment he drank a whole bottle and started another.
After that incident we were careful not to say anything insulting or that could be interpreted as an insult. The day went by quickly. After breakfast we went back to the apartment where we watched our dad march around the room like he was in a band or listen to him sing ridiculous songs. Once Jason quietly asked what we were going to do after dinner, but the Beast (as Jason called him) just laughed.
That night I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling wishing that I were back home with my loving mom and caring friend. I closed my eyes and imagined our little cottage, way back in the woods, covered in white blankets of snow. A small hand shaking me violently shattered my dreams. Angered I sat up.
“What, Jason?”
“Beast has left the building, I repeat, Beast has left the building.”
“Ugh, why can’t you just tell me normally that dad has gone out?” I implored. But Jason said nothing and climbed out of bed. I followed him and I got dressed. We slipped out the door nothing more but shadows in the night that had fallen onto the apartment.
Not a word was spoken as we stepped lightly down the stairs, jumping at any sound. When we stepped outside, it was colder than we had guessed. Shivering in our coats we looked wildly around for any sign of the Beast. Finally I spotted him across the street walking and giggling with a funny-looking woman with red hair and a skirt that was about four inches long. Dodging behind cars and garbage cans, we followed them around the block and down Main Street. Not very many people were out, which was good, because then we didn’t have to worry about people becoming suspicious.
We reached a corner where there was nothing to hide behind. In dismay, I watched as the Beast and the woman walked arm in arm down the street. I turned to Jason. He had a troubled look. Soundlessly I motioned that on the count of three we would dash across the street and get behind the row of hedges on the sidewalk. I mouthed 1, 2, 3, and then I took hold of Jason’s hand and sprinted across the street, dragging him with me. We ducked behind the hedge and continued our chase.
Jason and I stared at the entrance to where my dad and the woman were headed. Across the top in large, bold printed letters it said, IRISH PUB. Jason turned to me and said,
“We’re Irish?” Leave it to Jason to make a joke out of a very important mission.
“Yeah, stupid. We’re Irish. Duh! You don’t have to be Irish to go to an Irish Pub!”
“Oh.” He said with a slight look of confusion on his face.
“So, wait. What are they doing in an Irish pub?”
“Drinking stupid!”
“Drinking? What’s so bad about that?”
“DRINKING! LIKE ALCOHOL!” What happened to all the television he watched? Did he only watch the killing shows or something?
“What’s alcohol?” I stared at him in disbelief.
“You seriously don’t know what alcohol is? Oh my god. Wine! Beer! They all have alcohol in them!”
“Right. Okay, got it.” Oh my god. You cannot get any stupider than that.

Around midnight that night, Jason and I were back safely in our two beds. Part of me felt guilty, for following our dad around like we did, and part of me was wondering what he did at the pub. How much did he drink? Did he drink? Maybe the fumes just intoxicated him. Does he stay there all night?
I fought with sleep until our dad came quietly through the door. Well, you could hardly call his entrance quiet. The door squeaked open, and my dad giggled. How pathetic. A grown man laughing at a squeaky door. Wow, that was so funny I forgot to laugh.
He shut the door behind him. Then he turned and looked over at us. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Carefully opening one eye I peeked over the covers just in time to see him collapse in the same position we had found him that morning.

The next day from the start was terrible. Dark clouds hung in the sky, threatening rain. I sat up in bed but the first thing I saw was my father lying face first on the blankets, hardly moving at all. I looked out the window out of instinct, but instead of smiling, frowned and slid back into bed. This was one of those teenage mornings where I really didn’t want to get up.
I didn’t have to. Jason was up soon after me, and together we lay in bed staring at the ceiling, deep in our own thoughts. It was about 2:00 when our dad finally lifted his head. With an even greater effort than before he managed to stand up, and wobble over to us.
“Get up, ya dumb kids. You sleep far too late for people of your young years. I said get up now or I’ll make ya.”
Quickly remembering not to be rude in any way Jason and I sprang out of bed. In doing so I jammed my toe on some hard metal thing but suppressed my pain by biting my tongue. I looked over at Jason. His lips were quivering as if he was about to cry.
“That’s better. Now move it! Get dressed and wash up!”
“But where’s-.”
“I said MOVE IT!” He slapped Jason across the face. There was a streak of regret in my dad’s eyes but it quickly disappeared. Now Jason was trying so hard not to cry but finally the tears overflowed and fell down his cheeks.
“Ah, would you look at that? The boy’s a wimp! And you, girly! What are you lookin’ at? Would you like some too?” He raised his hand but I ducked out of the way.
“What are you runnin’ from, eh? Oh, let me guess, your going to cry too!” He laughed cruelly. I knew my eyes were brimming with tears but I desperately held them back. Jason looked at me for help. Fortunately the Beast turned and went to put on some clothes.
“Jason.” I whispered. “Just get dressed. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

It was seriously disgusting what alcohol had done to our so-called dad. He dressed now in different colored socks, two different shoes, a purple sweater, and his pants on backwards. I doubt he was doing this new fashion on purpose. To make it worse, he laughed at everything. A lady walking her dog, a sign saying ‘Wrong Way’, and a fire hydrant. Personally I found none of these very amusing.
He slapped Jason 3 times during the course of the day, and me once. Poor Jason’s right cheek was black and blue by the time we went to bed.
The only good things about him were he fed us, gave us comfy beds to sleep in, and bought us books to read. I tried really hard to give him a compliment, despite his bad humor.
So for 3 weeks we put up with his drinking and rudeness to us. Mainly we read books in our spare time when we weren’t eating. We didn’t dare ask him to take us anywhere, or to stop drinking. (Which was his worst problem) And he didn’t try to hide it, either. At breakfast he had wine. At lunch he had beer, and at dinner he had at least two bottles of beer. Jason and I didn’t dare guess how much he drank on the nights he went out.
On a cold Saturday evening I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling thinking about the past two weeks. I turned to look at my sleeping brother. I could see his right cheek in the moonlight, black and blue from my father’s beatings. I stared back at the ceiling. Something was not right here for us. Ever since we first got here I had always frowned in the morning. That never happened to me. Never. And this was the least expectant place for it to happen. We were with my dad. C’mon! Our dad!
But somehow I knew it wasn’t the same dad my mom had met 15 years ago. They had split up, and things had gone wrong for my dad. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. But Jason and I had put up with his beatings and rude comments long enough. I knew that we didn’t belong here. There was nothing we could do to help him, and I doubted if anyone could. We only had one more week left to endure. Gently I touched my back where I knew there were red pelts from when he had hit me over and over with a towel. No. That was the last straw. Or beer, maybe. There was no way I was going to last another day with the Beast. Never. With that in my mind I drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
All the next day I was in a world of my own, planning, thinking, deciding. Jason kept giving me quizzical looks but I hardly noticed them. After lunch our dad said he had some ‘business’ to do and left us in the apartment alone. It was then I came back from my little world and took a good look around me. The apartment was hardly different from when we had first arrived. The ground was still cluttered up to our ankles, but Jason and I had made a path from our beds to the front door. We would have made more paths, but the straight line from our beds to the door took about three hours to make, and we didn’t dare make any more, in case the Beast got suspicious.
We had finished the books my dad had bought us weeks ago. Unfortunately, he didn’t get us any new books, and we didn’t dare ask for more lest he fly into one of his terrifying rages again. So most of our spare time was spent massaging our bruises, or staring out the window wondering how our mom was, or playing tic-tac-toe on little scraps of paper we found lying around on the floor.
So on this windy afternoon Jason and I, in single file, followed the path to our beds and wearily lay down on our beds.
“Jason.” I said airily. “What would you think if I said we should escape from this joint and go back home before he kills us?”
“First I’d say you’re nuts and second I’d say we’re not inside our joints we’re cramped on two beds in the middle of a sea of mess.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. “C’mon Jason. What do you think I’ve been thinking about this all day? I’ve got it all planned out. First, we’ll-.”
“Wait a minute. Are you seriously saying that you want to make the four-hour car drive back to Yosemite? Get real! We’re in San Francisco. We don’t have a car. And even if we did, you can’t drive!”
“Have you ever heard of buses?” Jason thought for a moment.
“Once upon a time, I think I’ve seen one.”
“Great.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We’ll take a bus out of here, stupid!”
“Oh.”
I thought to myself, Okay. Here I am, stuck in a little stupid apartment, with a mean, stupid father, and a really, really, stupid little brother! Wow! Isn’t my life fabulous? Okay! So, who wants to trade places with me?
I wondered if the time I dropped him on his head did anything to him. Maybe it messed him up so he didn’t have a fully developed brain. Hmmm….maybe I should ask the doctor next time we go if we could get x-rays of his half-developed brain. No, because then everyone would blame me for dropping him on his head and I would go to jail. Great.
“So, Miss Smarty Pants, where do we get money for the bus ride?”
Okay, so he’s not that stupid.
“I don’t know! Look, I’ve only been thinking about it for a few hours!”
“Okay, so, first we need to figure out what the bus fares are, and then we need to get the money, and then we bust out of here!” I could tell he was starting to take this seriously. It scared me a little, to see my little brother be so up front about doing something as dangerous as what we were planning to do.
“Oh! I’ve got it! After dinner we always pass that bus stop, right? Hopefully there will be people there. You can go up to one of those people and ask them what the bus fare is. While you’re doing that I’ll pretend I dropped something and start looking for it, then I’ll ask the Beast to help me. Got it?”
“Um, yeah. I guess so.” I was momentarily stunned by my brother’s forward attitude in this plan. I soon recovered.
“Yeah, okay Mr. Follow-my-lead. I’m the one who thought up this plan, remember?” He smiled but said nothing.

That night I was having second thoughts about our plan. What if the Beast got mad again and didn’t help him look? What if there was no one at the bus stop? Who would we get the bus fare from? And if we didn’t get the bus fare, how would we know what to pay? Speaking of which we didn’t even have any money! The thoughts aggravated my mind and I did my best to block them out. It didn’t work. I muffled a scream of frustration into my pillow. Why couldn’t we have just stayed at home? Why did our dad have to send us a letter? Why couldn’t he just LEAVE US ALONE!!!!
The next day was bright with sunlight, too bright, I thought. It hurt our eyes badly when we left the apartment that morning for breakfast. I heard our dad cursing it under his breath. What’s he going to curse next, the air? I thought to myself.
As we left the restaurant Jason looked at me and nodded. Nervously I returned the nod. We were coming up on the bus stop. I could dimly make out three or four shapes sitting on the bench. I watched as Jason took out an old watch he must have found amongst the mess back at the apartment. Slyly he began to whistle and dropped his watch behind him. Then he reached his hand in his pocket and pretended to be surprised not to see it there. He stopped whistling.
“Dad! Dad! I’ve lost my watch! I’ve lost my watch!” Hey, he was a pretty good actor.
But our dad looked suspiciously at him.
“Since when did you have a watch?”
“Since I can remember! My mom gave it to me when I was real little.” At the mention of his wife our dad stopped and got a far away look in his eyes. Then suddenly as if he had crashed back down to reality with a sudden jolt, the look disappeared and he seemed angry.
Jason was very cautious of this new change of attitude. “Well, can you help me look for it?”
He grumbled but willingly joined Jason on his hands and knees retracing their steps. Suddenly I remembered my part and I turned to an elderly lady sitting very proper-like on the bench.
“Excuse me, do you know what the bus fare is?” I asked her.
“Oh, and I wonder what a young one like you is doing riding a bus? Where are your parents? Do they know you’re riding a bus all by your little self? Hm? Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” She had an English accent.
“Look I’m just-.”
“Now if you’re going to start lying like I hear all little American children do, don’t go giving me any of that. No I will not have any of it. So tell me of yourself, now!”
This lady was starting to get on my nerves.
“Look, My, uh, mom just wanted to know the bus fares, okay? Because, uh, she needs to tell her Aunt’s sister’s cousin’s brother how to get here from Yosemite and he uh, needs to know the bus fare. You know, he’s taking the bus.”
She looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.
“Look it’s true!” I said in what I thought was a convincing tone.
I guess she thought so too because she said, “For children under 8 it’s 10 dollars, for children 8 to 18 it’s 20, and adults are 30 dollars. That’s for a one-way trip.”
“Uh, thanks.” I said quickly. I turned just in time to see Jason stand up and say, “I found it!” Our dad looked relieved and we walked back to the apartment.
Later that afternoon our dad had another ‘errand’ to run. I told Jason what had happened with the English lady.
“20 dollars? Ha ha you have to pay 20 dollars!” He danced on top of the bed.
“Oh yeah? Well we’re in this together bucko! So, where do you expect to get 30 dollars?” He grinned in a way I didn’t like at all and pulled out from his pocket a five-dollar bill.
“Jason! Where did you get that?” I said in a half excited, half angry whisper.
“Oh, somewhere.” He said mysteriously.
“Jason you tell me where you got that money right now or I’ll-.”
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll ring your neck!”
“All right all right you asked for it. I got it from dad.”
“He gave you five dollars?”
“How do you define ‘gave’?”
“Jason!”
“Yes?”
“Did you steal the money the money from dad?”
“Define steal.”
This was exasperating.
“Jason, you stole that money from the Beast?”
“Sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of?”
“Well, today after lunch he put the five-dollar bill on the edge of the table and pushed it towards me. Then he left the table and I figured he was giving it to me.
Does he just not pay attention to his surroundings or am I deaf?
“JASON! THAT WAS FOR THE WAITER!”
“Oh.”
“Okay, so we have five-dollars. That we stole from dad and the restaurant. Great, this is fabulous! Now we’ll go to jail!”
“No wait! We can use it for the bus fare!”
“So now you’re saying we steal money, and then use it?”
“Yeah I’m a genius aren’t I?”
Yeah. Identical to Einstein.
“You’ve forgotten that the bus fare for both of us put together is 30 dollars.”
“No, I haven’t. We’ll get money in time.”
“In time? No, Jason, no, I can’t stand it. We need to leave as soon as possible.”
Suddenly my memory flashed before me.
“Wait! My baby-sitting money! I knew it would come in handy!”
“You brought it?”
“Yeah. The whole 50 dollars of it.”
“What a blessing from God.”
“Yeah whatever.”
“So when should we leave?”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“No in 2034.”
“Oh okay.” AHHHHHH! DOUBLE MERDE AND CURSE ALL LITTLE BROTHERS FOR BEING SO DIM!!!

The wind was whipping around the apartment that night when Jason and I were restlessly pretending to be asleep in our beds. We heard the Beast leave the apartment and shut the door behind him, like he did every night after we went to sleep. Quickly and silently Jason and I slipped out of bed, pulled on some real clothes over our pajamas and just like the night we had followed our father out of the apartment, crept out the front door, suitcases in hand. I stopped by the front door.
“Okay, here’s the plan. We get on the bus and get to Yosemite National Park. From there we try to get a taxi if we can, and if we can’t we can just walk the seven miles to our house. Got it?”
“Um, I guess so.” Jason looked a little worried. I ignored him and when the coast was clear pulled him along with me and descended the steps down to the lobby.
It was dark and cold when we reached the bottom. We groped our way to the two swinging front doors. A cold, biting wind nipped at us as I pulled Jason along the sidewalk towards the bus stop. We reached the bus stop in the nick of time-the last bus was just pulling in when we arrived. I handed the bus driver two ten-dollar bills and two five-dollar bills. He looked suspiciously at us but said nothing. I pulled Jason behind me to the back of the bus. We sat down on the cold metal seats and put our suitcases under the seat. Then I lay back and resting my head against the cool iron seat I closed my eyes and slid into a peaceful sleep.
Jason roused me when we reached Modesto for a pit stop and bathroom break. Jason went in front of me as we filed off the bus. We took our suitcases so that we could check them in the bathrooms and see if we needed anything.
There was a long line at the bathroom, so we explored a bit. We were at the edge of the town, and by the dim light of the lamp overhead we could see outlines of many houses against the horizon. The road disappeared into the night in both directions, toward the city and away from it. It was still cold, but the wind was quieter, gently ruffling our hair and blowing soft wind kisses to our nose and cheeks. I sat myself on the ground and opened my suitcase.
“Water, money, clothes, make-up…” I hadn’t used any make-up, but it was always good to have it handy lest I suddenly met a hottie.
“…snacks, shoes, toothbrush, toothpaste. I can’t think of anything we might need that we could get here. How ‘bout you?”
Jason had opened his suitcase also. “Nope. We got everything.” We stood up and walked towards the bathroom to see if the line was shorter. There were only one or two people lined up. We waited our turn then Jason went into the men’s bathroom and I in the women’s.
Inside I squinted into the mirror. Hm, I need something. Ah yes! Eyeliner! I took out a black pencil from my make-up bag and outlined my emerald eyes. I looked again, and added a dark red lipstick. Something still wasn’t right. Blush did the trick. Satisfied, I locked up my suitcase and stepped outside to wait for Jason. Something didn’t seem right. The cool night air was silent. My ears pounded with it, and it seemed as if the whole world could hear my heartbeat. I looked around the corner where the bus should have been. It was gone.

It was such a shock to me that I just stood there blinking, and didn’t realize Jason had stepped beside me and stared in wonder too until he gently touched my arm.
“They-left.” I said, shaking.
“Why?” Jason asked.
“They left. They left.” I said again. My tongue seemed to have turned to stone and the words were heavy in my mouth.
I began to get angry. “They left. Without us. Here we are, in the middle of nowhere, at 11:00 at night, at a stupid gas station, at the edge of a stupid town, stuck with our stupid suitcases! They left! No horn beep, nothing. They just left! Great!” I threw my hands up into the air.
“Actually, it’s 10:30. And we’re not in the middle of nowhere, we’re at the edge of Modesto, and I don’t think our suitcases have brains so they can’t be stupid.” Jason said calmly. Who told him to talk back to me? What happened to ‘respect your elders’? Did that just, disappear? Like the bus did?
“Did I mention you need to shut-up?”
“Yeah, you mentioned that.”

A half an hour later we were still sitting on the cold cement ground wondering what to do. Jason kept looking over at the outline of houses where Modesto was and shaking his head. I don’t know what his problem was. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t found that money, and came up with the plan, then we wouldn’t be here! Oh why couldn’t we have just been satisfied with staying for another week?
I knew why. I knew Jason would have been seriously hurt by the time we got back to mom. I also knew I would not be able to stand just watching him get beatings, while our Dad thought it more lady-like to hit me with a towel. I sighed and opened my suitcase. I took out the bag of food we had packed, and giving a sandwich to Jason, ate a bag of grapes and a few crackers.
“Come on, Jason, we better try to get some sleep. We’ll figure out something in the morning.”
Reaching back into my suitcase I took out some of my clothes, and using them like a pillow tried to go to sleep.
The next thing I knew Jason was whispering ‘get up, get up, sleepy head!’ in my ear. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. A pale gray morning was coming up over the horizon, and the houses in the distance were easier to make out. I couldn’t tell if Jason had slept or not, but he seemed in an okay mood which was a good sign.
“Look, I’ve figured that from here to the town is about five miles. If we can get there by noon, maybe we can use our remaining money to get a taxi and make the rest of the trip!”
There was a look of hope in his face. “Jason, you woke me up at dawn to tell me that we needed to walk five miles to Modesto to get a taxi ride with 20 dollars?”
He said nothing but picked up his suitcase and began in the direction we had come. I groaned but locked up my suitcase also and hurried to catch up with him. As we walked down the street, people looked at us curiously and some with pity. We’re not lost, okay? Haven’t you ever seen two kids walking down the street before? I thought. I looked up to the sky. The sun was covered with layers of light gray clouds and there was a faint sweet freshness to the cool air. There were children playing in the front yards and as we passed by they stopped and watched us. They never said anything, just shook their heads and went back to their games. We kept our eyes peeled for any sign of a taxi, but none came by. After a while I laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder.
“Jason this is useless. We’re not going to find a taxi. We might as well walk the rest of the way home...”
He knew I was right, but he pulled away and kept walking. I threw up my hands and sat down on the sidewalk.
“Alright. Fine. You win. You go, and look for you’re stupid taxi, and I’ll stay right here. And you know what? You’ll get lost! But do what you want! Because I’m just your smart, older sister, supposedly helping you! But you don’t want my help, fine. Be that way. I don’t need you. Go on. Yeah that’s right. Just keep walking!” Jason didn’t turn around at all but kept walking. It hurt me, watching my little brother whom I had bossed and teased all these years suddenly mature and grow-up. I sighed and put my chin in my hands.
About 20 minutes later I looked up and saw that Jason was gone. Surprised I stood up, but couldn’t see him anywhere. I sat down again and began to sulk and pity myself.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a yellow taxi come up the street but I didn’t move. It drove towards me and parked right by where I was sitting. A boy about 9 or 10 got out and said ‘thank you’ to the driver.
He came over to me. “C’mon sis, I got a taxi! He says he’ll take us up the road to Turlock Lake State Recreation Area and then from there he’ll pay for us to get on a bus and up to Yosemite National Park! C’mon!” He grabbed my arm. Suddenly I realized that this was my seven-year-old brother who had just got us a taxi and coaxed the driver to pay for another bus trip. Wow. I didn’t think even I could have done that.
The taxi drive was rather unpleasant. The taxi driver told us his name was Scrudge, and that we could call him Scrugy. What was up with that? A nickname for Scrudge? You can’t get much shorter than that! He had a rough, scratchy voice. Scrugy sang the whole time. It was terrible. His songs were mostly made up of ‘I lost my love’ and ‘yeah yeah yeah.’ Even I could sing better than he did.
Anyhow he got us to Turlock Lake and from there he paid with his own money for us to take a bus to the park. I was impressed. I guess Jason had really made him realize our situation, but I didn’t dare ask what he had told the taxi driver to get him to pay.
The bus ride was only about an hour, and this time when we got off on the bathroom break Jason and I waited near the bus so as not to miss our ride home. Jason napped this time and I stared out the window, wondering what our mom was doing at that very moment.
The bus let us off at the Visitor Center which Jason and I recognized as where we had gone on a field trip at school. I went inside and got a map for free and looked at our location. We seemed to be about twenty miles from home. Then suddenly I had a thought of where my dad might be. Despite his drunkenness he would be worried about us. In our rush to get out we had forgotten to leave a note. I tossed the thought aside and went outside to inform Jason.
Out of nowhere a ball of white came flying at me. I turned and saw Jason armed with another snowball directed at me. I ducked as he threw it. Laughing I got behind a drift of snow and began firing snowballs at him. Our snowball fight continued until we were out of breath and lying helplessly on the snow.
I pulled myself together and told Jason of what news I had found. He was disappointed that it was so far.
“Jason, come on, you didn’t think that we were going to get a ride all the way to our doorstep, did you?”
“Well, not exactly, but something like that.”
“Oh come on, we can make it. It’s not far, and I know the road from here. On the field trip I had nothing to do but stare out the window. I have a good idea where we are.”
“Yeah whatever Miss Tracker just get us home, okay?” I rolled my eyes. I looked to the west and found that the hills were devouring the last rays of the sun. I looked at Jason. He was looking at an old car that had obviously not been in use for a while half covered in snow by the side of the road.
“Oh no. No, no, and no! I will not! I refuse to! No!”

Surprisingly the inside of the car was pretty warm. We took out our clothes and made a sort of bed on the seats. The black leather from them was practically gone but the yellow foam inside was good cushioning. We slept deeply.
The sun was already in the sky when we awoke. We did not say a word to each other as we put the clothes back in the suitcases and ate a little more food. I checked on our supply. We were running low. If we had to take more than two days to get home then we would run out of food. Nonetheless we got out of the car and looked at the map again. Walking towards the rising sun, we set out for home.
To pass the time Jason and I decided to try and imitate the taxi driver. I would sing ‘I lost my love, oh yeah’ and he would sing ‘Oh yeah, I lost my love’ and then together we would sing ‘Oh help me I lost my love oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!’ and crack up with laughter. Then Jason in the middle of my singing made a false burp and we fell over laughing on the ground. I wasn’t sure what was so funny at the time, but I knew it felt good to laugh.
After a while Jason complained that his cheek was starting to get sore again where he had been slapped, so we stopped. The silence penetrated me, and pounded my whole body. All of the sudden a sweet, clear note came from a bird high above us in the tree tops and broke the silence like an egg shattering on the ground.
An hour had gone by and the ground was getting steadily steeper, as we climbed up into the mountains. The trees around us began to get thicker, and we entered the forest that Jason and I knew so well. Many times we had played here as children, building innumerable forts and climbing every tree we saw. Always the forest had been our friend, and we had respected it, as we grew older.
But something was different. It was as if, old memories were stored here, and we were walking through them, re-living them. Many times we would point out old spots and groves that we played in. Every sentence now started with, ‘Oh, and remember when…’ The old forest was now past us somehow, and it wasn’t for playing any more. We never felt the urge to climb up any trees, or make any fort. It was hard to tell whether the forest had become older or we had.
I sighed.
“Yeah, those were the days. You know, Annie and I used to come here all the time after school, drawing pictures in the ground of people who had been mean to us that day, and then we drew a sword in them or something as punishment.” I laughed. It echoed around me.
“Jason?” I asked. I turned to where Jason had once stood beside me. He wasn’t there. For once in my life the forest was my enemy, and I was lost, in the middle of it, alone.