bus in an hour that would take him to DC, and from there he could board another bus that would go directly to Tampa. Audrey lived in Sweetgum, Florida, about an hour south of Tampa.
He sat toward the back, which turned out to be a mistake because the door to the toilet was partially busted and kept flying open and smacking closed again.
His head pulsed from an afternoon and evening spent drinking beer. He’d gotten up early and packed quietly, although there was little chance of waking Kevin, who was snoring like a bear hit with a tranquilizer dart. He’d left a note that said:
Taking off. Don’t worry.
I’ll call my parents this afternoon.
George pulled a sweater from his bag, folded it several times to use as a pillow, then drifted in and out of troubled sleep all the way to Washington. There was a twenty-minute wait before he had to catch the bus that would go all the way to Florida. He ate half a cheeseburger at McDonald’s, then went to a line of pay phones to call his parents, using the calling card they had given him back in September. His dad would be at work, and he was hoping his mom would be having lunch with one of her friends. No such luck—she picked up.
“George, what’s wrong? What do you need?”
His was not a family that checked in with one another very often. “Mom, remember I told you about that girl named Audrey Beck?”
“I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.”
He explained what had happened, eliciting a series of sighs from his mother. “What a waste,” she said, as though she had personally known Audrey and her prospects. “But what I’m most concerned about is you, darling. I don’t want this to affect your time at college. This should be a happy time for you.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said. He couldn’t tell her that he was about to board an overnight bus to Tampa. If the school caught wind of his absence, they would have to notify his parents, but he’d deal with that if it happened.
“Mom, I’ll call you in a week. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will, George.”
For the second leg of his journey, he sat toward the middle of the bus, eating his way through a bag of apples and watching the grim highways of the South go by. He hunted his memory for any signs that Audrey had been suicidal and could find none. He had gotten the sense that she was not entirely happy with her home situation, that it was a part of her life she chose not to speak of, but George hadn’t felt that she was deeply unhappy. What could possibly have happened to turn a well-adjusted college freshman into someone desperate enough to take her own life?
He tried to remember every detail of their final moments together. They had taken their last exams on a spit-sleety Thursday morning when half the school had already decamped to their parents’ homes. The dining hall that night was not even a quarter full. George and Audrey had eaten together, alone at a table for ten. What had they spoken of? George remembered that they had analyzed the beef Stroganoff on their plates, wondering if it was made up solely of leftovers before the kitchen closed up for over a month. He also remembered annoying Audrey a little by continuing to express his concern that she was planning on driving the entirety of the trip from New England to Florida in two twelve-hour days of driving. George was convinced that it was a dangerous idea, but Audrey insisted that she had done it on her way up and could do it again on her return. Plus, she didn’t have enough money for two nights at a motel. George had offered to pay and had even offered to help her with the driving down to Florida, knowing she would say no. In the end, after arguing for a while, Audrey ended the argument the way she always did, by saying, “You can worry all you want, but I’m going to do it.” And George had let it go.
They had packed that night, separately in their own rooms, then spent the night in Audrey’s, before getting up and
He sat toward the back, which turned out to be a mistake because the door to the toilet was partially busted and kept flying open and smacking closed again.
His head pulsed from an afternoon and evening spent drinking beer. He’d gotten up early and packed quietly, although there was little chance of waking Kevin, who was snoring like a bear hit with a tranquilizer dart. He’d left a note that said:
Taking off. Don’t worry.
I’ll call my parents this afternoon.
George pulled a sweater from his bag, folded it several times to use as a pillow, then drifted in and out of troubled sleep all the way to Washington. There was a twenty-minute wait before he had to catch the bus that would go all the way to Florida. He ate half a cheeseburger at McDonald’s, then went to a line of pay phones to call his parents, using the calling card they had given him back in September. His dad would be at work, and he was hoping his mom would be having lunch with one of her friends. No such luck—she picked up.
“George, what’s wrong? What do you need?”
His was not a family that checked in with one another very often. “Mom, remember I told you about that girl named Audrey Beck?”
“I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.”
He explained what had happened, eliciting a series of sighs from his mother. “What a waste,” she said, as though she had personally known Audrey and her prospects. “But what I’m most concerned about is you, darling. I don’t want this to affect your time at college. This should be a happy time for you.”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said. He couldn’t tell her that he was about to board an overnight bus to Tampa. If the school caught wind of his absence, they would have to notify his parents, but he’d deal with that if it happened.
“Mom, I’ll call you in a week. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will, George.”
For the second leg of his journey, he sat toward the middle of the bus, eating his way through a bag of apples and watching the grim highways of the South go by. He hunted his memory for any signs that Audrey had been suicidal and could find none. He had gotten the sense that she was not entirely happy with her home situation, that it was a part of her life she chose not to speak of, but George hadn’t felt that she was deeply unhappy. What could possibly have happened to turn a well-adjusted college freshman into someone desperate enough to take her own life?
He tried to remember every detail of their final moments together. They had taken their last exams on a spit-sleety Thursday morning when half the school had already decamped to their parents’ homes. The dining hall that night was not even a quarter full. George and Audrey had eaten together, alone at a table for ten. What had they spoken of? George remembered that they had analyzed the beef Stroganoff on their plates, wondering if it was made up solely of leftovers before the kitchen closed up for over a month. He also remembered annoying Audrey a little by continuing to express his concern that she was planning on driving the entirety of the trip from New England to Florida in two twelve-hour days of driving. George was convinced that it was a dangerous idea, but Audrey insisted that she had done it on her way up and could do it again on her return. Plus, she didn’t have enough money for two nights at a motel. George had offered to pay and had even offered to help her with the driving down to Florida, knowing she would say no. In the end, after arguing for a while, Audrey ended the argument the way she always did, by saying, “You can worry all you want, but I’m going to do it.” And George had let it go.
They had packed that night, separately in their own rooms, then spent the night in Audrey’s, before getting up and
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