Runaway Home: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

         Kristen wasn't the only one who was angry. Troy was furious and felt pulled in two directions at once. On one hand, he had the ridiculous, fleeting urge to go with her. On the other, more sensible hand, he knew he should call the police; call someone. She was crazy to think she could hitchhike all the way to North Carolina. She was going to wind up dead. The thing that bugged him the most though, was the fact that he even cared. He knew nothing about her and besides, she was just a kid. He didn't understand where this urge to protect her was coming from. Usually, he didn't give a damn about anyone. Even his girlfriend Jenna had told him that; had told him just tonight, matter of fact.

         It was her apartment he had been walking home from when he had found the girl under the bridge. Jenna had been complaining about one thing or another; how the manicurist had done a rotten job; the new shoes she had bought fit wrong; and mainly about his losing his job. How were they going to afford to go out? How could they keep up with all of their friends? And what about that necklace he had promised to buy her? And on... and on... and on. He was so tired of her whining and bitching. He couldn't figure out why he even stayed with her; except that she looked good and had her own place; which came in handy when his old man was on another binge.

         Anyway, he'd finally had enough. He had told Jenna to do something rather unkind to herself and had walked out. He hadn't bothered to tell her that he'd already gotten another job; or that the necklace she'd wanted was on layaway; or that he had the money to fix his car in his pocket. He just turned and left. He dreaded going home, knowing his old man would be drunk and mean. He could've called another friend to come pick him up, but he decided a walk would do him good.

         Then he met this kid. A girl he didn't know from Eve; who was so stuck in his brain now that it was maddening. When he turned and walked away from her, he had told himself he didn't care; it was none of his business. He walked over to the tree line and sat down on a stump, trying to decide how to handle the situation. From where he sat, he could see the overpass, but could not see her where she was sitting. He watched now, waiting to see if she would go through with her crazy plan.

         He pulled out his phone to look at the time. It was near 5 a.m. The sun would be rising soon so he figured if she were going to make a move, it would be soon. He waited and watched and the feel of her lips on his went through his mind, over and over. She was young alright; maybe even younger than he'd guessed. Fourteen or fifteen maybe? He couldn't be sure. She spoke like an older woman, but her kiss had given her away; so innocent and hesitant. And so sweet. There was a toughness in her though, that he wasn't used to seeing in the girls he knew. She definitely wasn't what he thought of as a 'fluff chick'. Instead of whining or batting her eyes at him, she handed his sarcasm right back to him; challenged him. He liked that and found it a refreshing change.

         'This is crazy,' he thought to himself.

         Again pulling his phone from his pocket, he dialed Riley's number. Riley was his best friend and 'partner in crime', as they referred to one another. They had been friends since kindergarten and were forever bailing each other out of various jams. Troy had decided he no longer felt like walking all the way home. Riley was most likely at his girlfriend's place and would come and get him... if the price was right.

         After what seemed like the tenth ring, Riley's sleepy voice came on the line.

         "This better be good asshole," Riley said.

         "I need a ride man," Troy replied.

         "You always need a ride. When you gonna get that piece of shit fixed anyway? Or better yet, junked?"

         "Not now Riley. Just come and get me."

         "Aw man, it's gotta be 5 o'clock in the morning... and I ain't gotta work today. The sun ain't even up yet," Riley whined.

         "Come on man, I'll buy you a carton of smokes."

         No reply.

         "And pay for your gas..."

         "And breakfast?" Riley asked.

         "Jesus...okay. And breakfast too," Troy replied.

         "Where are you?" Riley asked with a sigh.

         "I'm on I-480. Just come to the back of Royale Estates. I'll watch for you," Troy said.

         "What the hell are you doing on I-480 at 5 o'clock in the morning?"

         "Just shut up. And hurry. It's important. I'll explain later," Troy said assertively. He had always been the stronger of the two, able to talk Riley into, or out of, just about anything. Matter of fact, most people Troy came into contact with tended to follow his lead.

         Except the girl. Kristen.

         "Dammit!" he said out loud, looking at his phone again. It was 5:15.

         Troy estimated that it would take Riley about fifteen or twenty minutes to get there, if he hurried. He looked toward the overpass again. Still no movement. He could see it from where he was sitting, and would also be able to see the headlights when Riley pulled up. Keeping an eye out in both directions, he thought about Riley.

         Riley was the luckiest SOB Troy knew. Riley's old man worked for an independent auto parts dealer and had talked the Service Manager of a local Lexus dealership into letting Riley work in the parts department part-time when Riley was sixteen. Riley had discovered an untapped natural talent for knowing alternators from distributors, and had recently been promoted to Parts Department Manager. One of the perks of the job was a company vehicle; a brand-spanking new, 1999 Lexus IS300. With all the trimmings. And Riley was just twenty years old. Therefore, anytime they went anywhere, Riley drove.

         Troy's own car, on the flip-side, was a 1970 Chevy Chevelle, that ran only when it felt like it. It was sweet...at least from the outside. Candy apple red with two white stripes down the roof and hood, it had a big block 396 and would do 0-60 in 5.2 seconds. Recently though, it had been very temperamental and had been having off and on problems with the starter and timing. He'd gone to the bank just today (or yesterday now, he thought to himself) and withdrawn his entire savings account to get the car fixed right, once and for all. He'd lost his last job for having been late one too many times; because of the car. He hated to take that money out, but no car; no job. Just two days ago he'd landed a new job. He would be working for a large trucking company, mainly on the docks, but also learning to be a 'yard jockey', moving trailers around on the property. He was hoping to someday move up to driving for them. As of this moment however, he still had one more week off before he started.

         Coming back to the present, he checked the time again, and caught a flash of headlights off to his left. They blinked once, then twice, and then went out completely. Riley. He glanced back to his right and...

         "Damn!" he said aloud. She was standing up. He ran for the car, which was a good 100 yards away, while trying to look back over his shoulder to see if she was moving. So far, she was still just standing there, looking out over the Turnpike. Soon he knew though, that he would no longer be able to see the overpass for the bend in the unfinished road. Sure enough, when he'd come within 50 feet of the car, he could no longer see her. He had decided he just couldn't let her go through with it.

         He ran to the driver's side of the car and yanked open the door, startling a still half-asleep Riley.

         "Slow down man, what the hell's wrong with you? The cops chasing you?" Riley sputtered.

         "Get out and go around to the other side," Troy said forcefully.

         "Wait a min..." was all Riley got out before Troy reached in, grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out from behind the wheel.

         "NOW!" Troy growled, jumping behind the wheel. He already had the car in gear and was moving before Riley managed to jump in the passenger's side. Troy gunned it and left the neighborhood behind, headed out Lorain Rd. toward the Turnpike interchange. There was no way to know whether or not she was still there or if she had actually gotten a ride. But if she was trying to hitch, he intended to intercept her.

         Riley stared at Troy with outrage and open curiosity.

         "What is wrong with you Troy? You're acting like someone's after you. Would you slow down before you kill us both?" Riley pleaded, his voice at least an octave higher than normal.

         Troy ignored him as he pulled into the tollbooth. The machine spit out a ticket and off he roared again.

         "Troy, I swear to God I'll never come get your ass again if you don't tell me what's going on," Riley said, anger and fear creeping into his voice.

         Troy cast a sideways glance at him.

         "I'll explain in a few minutes. I'm not running from anyone. I'm looking for someone. Do you know which overpass is the one for the new I-480? The one that's not open yet?" he asked Riley, all the while staring intently at every overpass they went under.

         "Yeah...the one that looks unfinished dodo. Dammit Troy, who are you looking for?"

         But Troy wasn't answering just yet. His knuckles were white where they gripped the steering wheel, and he was clenching his jaw as he frantically searched the overpasses and the side of the road, before and after each one they went under.

         Finally, Troy let out a breath; like he'd been holding it in all along, and shook his head. The speedometer began to drop back to a more comfortable speed. Still keeping his eyes wide open, Troy sat back in the seat, lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, sliding the window down as he blew out the smoke.

         "Man, I think I've lost my mind," he said to Riley.

         "No shit, Sherlock. I've never seen you out of control."

         "I am not out of control, just...in a hurry," Troy replied.

         He began to relate his story to Riley. He knew Riley would definitely think he'd lost his mind, but he also figured that Riley knew better than to laugh at him or he was likely to lay him out cold.

         So he told Riley what had happened, of course, skipping the part about the kiss and how said kiss had made him feel. It was an abridged version, but Riley was staring openly at him when he finished, a look of disbelief on his face.

         "So let me get this right. You're on a wild goose chase, for a runaway kid, who might not actually be a runaway?"

         "Yep," came Troy's terse response.

         "Dude, you have lost it. Why is it anything to you?"

         Troy didn't answer. He stared at Riley for a moment and then turned away. A look of understanding passed over Riley's face.

         "How old did you say this girl is?" Riley asked suspiciously.

         "I told you, she never would tell me. She acted like she was seventeen or eighteen, but I get the feeling she was more like fourteen or fifteen."

         "Judging by the look in your eye, there's more to it than what you've told me. Tell me you're not somehow hooked up with this girl Troy," Riley said seriously.

         "Of course not you idiot. I just met her. She's just a kid."

         "Yeah right. Something's different about you. You just don't get this intense."

         "I just gotta know she's alright. She was so... alone. She reminded me of myself," Troy said. He feared he had embarrassed himself, letting any emotion at all show in front of Riley. He was aware that Riley had always looked up to him. Over the fifteen years of their friendship, Riley had seen emotion from Troy only one time. They had been eleven years old that summer and Troy's dog had been hit by a car and killed. Even then though, Troy had only shed a tear or two and then it had been right back to 'Joe Cool'.

         Before Troy had anymore time to worry about whether or not he'd made an ass of himself though, they rounded a bend in the road and there before them was the brand new overpass; the fresh brown dirt plainly obvious now that the sky was truly lightening with the coming dawn. Troy immediately pulled off onto the shoulder, the black Lexus sliding sideways to a stop. Clamoring out of the car, he ran up the embankment to the top of the overpass. She was not there. Coming back down to the roadway, he peered off into the distance, both ways, looking for signs of anyone on foot. Nothing. His shoulders sagged as he walked back to the car, once again sliding behind the wheel.

         "Well?" Riley asked.

         "Gone," Troy replied.

         "You think she actually got a ride?"

         "I have no idea. She was pretty damn hardheaded. She might have done it just because I tried to talk her out of it," he said.

         He hoped to God she had backed out and was headed back down I-480 in the opposite direction from which they had walked together, just hours earlier. He wasn't done looking for her, but he would never make it back to where he'd found her before she did. Now that he was on the Turnpike, he was going to have to go all the way to the next tollbooth, which was just south of Cleveland at I-71, before he could exit and head back this way. He had to try though, and in a cloud of dust, he took off down the road again. He fought constantly with the urge to push the car to its limits, intent on finding the stubborn girl with the blue-green eyes.