"Well, I better get to school."
"Don't tell anyone about me until I'm long gone," I asked.
"Okay."
We hugged.
"Don't forget to write as soon as you can," she reminded.
"I won't," I promised.
I watched her walk away and then I sat on the floor with my back against the wall, trying to get up the strength and the energy to begin this long and dangerous journey to California. I had no idea about the route or the cheapest, safest means of travel, or even how to go about finding Mommy once I got there.
Finally, I rose and left the trailer, pausing to take one last look at it as I left Mineral Acres and headed to town. On the way I paused at a stream and dipped my hands into the cold water, washing the sleep from my face. I was sure I looked a mess.
The bus depot was in the Mother Jones luncheonette. I ordered a cup of coffee and a buttered roll at the counter. The waitress asked me why I wasn't in school and I told her I wasn'
t living here anymore, just visiting. Still, I drew a lot of attention. I was afraid to go up to the information desk and ask about routes to California. In the end I decided to take the bus back to Richmond, thinking it would be much easier to plan a cross-country trip from a big city like that. I didn't wait long for the bus.
This time, when I got on, I sat up front near the driver. There weren't many passengers and the driver was talkative. I told him I was going to Richmond to stay with my grandparents for a few days. Lies, I found, were coming to me easier, now that I was on the run. I didn't like doing it, but I could see how much easier it was than telling people the truth.
At the depot in Richmond, the ticket seller gave me a map that outlined a few different routes. I sat on a bench, trying to figure which route would be the cheapest and fastest. I was concentrating so intently on the bus map, I didn't see or sense that someone was standing right beside me. When my gaze moved off the page and I looked at the feet, I recognized the shoes.
"Cary!" I screamed.
"Talk about luck," he said smiling. I was shocked, but very happy to see his face. "I got off the bus and was just on my way to buy my ticket to Sewell when I saw you sitting here."
"What are you doing here? How--"
"Grandma Olivia was furious when she found out what I did and you did. She gave me the money to buy my bus ticket here and our bus tickets back," he said.
"I'm not going back, Cary," I said. "I'm going to Los Angeles to find my mother and get her to tell me the truth."
"You don't have to go to Los Angeles, Melody. I think I know the truth," Cary said. "Grandma Olivia and I had some down-to-earth talk, and I got her to tell me all she knows.
"I think I know who your father is," he said.
18
Not Alone
.
I told you her bark was worse than her bite,"
Cary said, escorting me to the first bus back to Boston. "The moment she found out what you had done, she summoned me. Bay, did she ever bawl me out! How could I be so stupid as to give you the money to travel alone? Why didn't I bring you right back to her instead of driving you to Boston? How could I let you go back to West Virginia? She made it sound as if I had sent you to work in the coal mines. I thought she would take me out to sea and make me walk the plank."
"What did you do?" I asked him.
"I let her chop up the water until she was exhausted and red in the face and then I calmly stood
up and said, "Grandma, it was all your fault. " "You did?"
We boarded the bus and took our seats. "Aye, I did."
"What did she do?"
"She flopped back in her seat, so shocked by