and
leaned his elbows on the roof of the car. His gaze drifted away before he
spoke, as if he couldn’t connect in more than one small way at a time.
“I just wasn’t ready to go home yet.”
There was something he wasn’t telling me. His voice had
dropped, and he seemed caught between worry and anger. Whatever that something
was bubbled up from a place he didn’t want to talk about. It was almost as if
Chris had layers.
Or, maybe he was just thinking about which girl he was going
to lure out of her parent’s house tonight.
“Are you going somewhere else? I could drop you off.”
He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t used to
non-talkers. Everywhere I go it’s talk, talk, talk.
Oh, yeah, and talk. Camp Oscheen ,
therapy, my mom and sisters, the girls at school.
“Get in.” I didn’t leave him a choice when I slid back in my
window, reached across the passenger’s seat and gave his door a little shove
open.
His hand wrapped around the door’s frame through the open
window. He stood there a moment, above my view, before he pulled his backpack
off and dropped into the seat beside me.
Both of us had made a decision. I doubt either of us knew we
had—or what it was—but something shifted in that moment.
I sped off, still heading away from both our houses. Still heading nowhere. Pushing us further from the normal neither of us seemed to want.
Escaping the places and people where panic happened.
I glanced over, surprised to see Chris rest his head back
against the headrest—his panic slipping away too. In that moment, I wanted to
rescue him as much as I wanted to rescue myself.
I was pretty sure that impulse would pass when I thought
about it, but for now, I just kept pushing us toward the darkened edge of town.
The streetlights flew by, thinning out as we got further
from the main streets. On the far side of town, the river paced along beside
us, shaping the road, forcing it into curves I should have slowed down for. I
raced the Man in the Moon and every demon either of us carried toward the
darkness.
He crooked his head, catching the glow of the moon. “Where
are we going?”
“Who cares?” I didn’t. I was out of the house and still
feeling fairly free. I pushed the gas harder, hitting the fifty mile per hour
point. This would be one hell of a ticket if we got pulled over.
Beside me, I heard the snick of Chris’s seatbelt, but he
didn’t say anything. I didn’t expect him to.
The road turned, but the river went on. I hit the brakes
hard, rushing us to a stop at the edge of a dirt road that was so overgrown it
couldn’t have been used in ages.
“Rachel.” There was a question in his voice riding under the
warning.
I turned to him, and felt that grin spread across my face.
The one I loved. The one I could feel every time I just didn’t care. Even with
him sitting there bracing a hand against the dash, I couldn’t care.
Reckless. Reckless,
but still vaguely in control. Sometimes, it felt good to let other
emotions override the fear and anxiety. Anger, joy,
amusement, worry. Recklessness.
Throwing the Honda back into gear, I aimed us down the road,
watching for glass and animals, but mostly just wondering where this dead road
ended.
The headlights splashed across a line of trees, the grass
thinning into a dirt circle. A tall, wooden arched bridge silhouetted against
the pale crescent moon, a tower of the past in the dark, silent night.
I threw the emergency brake and pulled the keys out,
dropping them on my seat as I crawled out and let the door fall shut behind me.
I strode toward the bridge, wondering what it would be like to see the moon
reflected in the water from the tall view over the river. If only the whole
world could be seen from a secret place like that.
A twelve-foot fence stood between me and that place with the
quiet moonlit answers. I waded through the overgrowth of brush to the gate. A
chain and padlock held it almost shut, but not enough to keep me
leaned his elbows on the roof of the car. His gaze drifted away before he
spoke, as if he couldn’t connect in more than one small way at a time.
“I just wasn’t ready to go home yet.”
There was something he wasn’t telling me. His voice had
dropped, and he seemed caught between worry and anger. Whatever that something
was bubbled up from a place he didn’t want to talk about. It was almost as if
Chris had layers.
Or, maybe he was just thinking about which girl he was going
to lure out of her parent’s house tonight.
“Are you going somewhere else? I could drop you off.”
He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t used to
non-talkers. Everywhere I go it’s talk, talk, talk.
Oh, yeah, and talk. Camp Oscheen ,
therapy, my mom and sisters, the girls at school.
“Get in.” I didn’t leave him a choice when I slid back in my
window, reached across the passenger’s seat and gave his door a little shove
open.
His hand wrapped around the door’s frame through the open
window. He stood there a moment, above my view, before he pulled his backpack
off and dropped into the seat beside me.
Both of us had made a decision. I doubt either of us knew we
had—or what it was—but something shifted in that moment.
I sped off, still heading away from both our houses. Still heading nowhere. Pushing us further from the normal neither of us seemed to want.
Escaping the places and people where panic happened.
I glanced over, surprised to see Chris rest his head back
against the headrest—his panic slipping away too. In that moment, I wanted to
rescue him as much as I wanted to rescue myself.
I was pretty sure that impulse would pass when I thought
about it, but for now, I just kept pushing us toward the darkened edge of town.
The streetlights flew by, thinning out as we got further
from the main streets. On the far side of town, the river paced along beside
us, shaping the road, forcing it into curves I should have slowed down for. I
raced the Man in the Moon and every demon either of us carried toward the
darkness.
He crooked his head, catching the glow of the moon. “Where
are we going?”
“Who cares?” I didn’t. I was out of the house and still
feeling fairly free. I pushed the gas harder, hitting the fifty mile per hour
point. This would be one hell of a ticket if we got pulled over.
Beside me, I heard the snick of Chris’s seatbelt, but he
didn’t say anything. I didn’t expect him to.
The road turned, but the river went on. I hit the brakes
hard, rushing us to a stop at the edge of a dirt road that was so overgrown it
couldn’t have been used in ages.
“Rachel.” There was a question in his voice riding under the
warning.
I turned to him, and felt that grin spread across my face.
The one I loved. The one I could feel every time I just didn’t care. Even with
him sitting there bracing a hand against the dash, I couldn’t care.
Reckless. Reckless,
but still vaguely in control. Sometimes, it felt good to let other
emotions override the fear and anxiety. Anger, joy,
amusement, worry. Recklessness.
Throwing the Honda back into gear, I aimed us down the road,
watching for glass and animals, but mostly just wondering where this dead road
ended.
The headlights splashed across a line of trees, the grass
thinning into a dirt circle. A tall, wooden arched bridge silhouetted against
the pale crescent moon, a tower of the past in the dark, silent night.
I threw the emergency brake and pulled the keys out,
dropping them on my seat as I crawled out and let the door fall shut behind me.
I strode toward the bridge, wondering what it would be like to see the moon
reflected in the water from the tall view over the river. If only the whole
world could be seen from a secret place like that.
A twelve-foot fence stood between me and that place with the
quiet moonlit answers. I waded through the overgrowth of brush to the gate. A
chain and padlock held it almost shut, but not enough to keep me
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