83

While the bus ride had been somewhat uncomfortable, Josh’s presence was a welcome distraction. Anything that could keep my mind off what I was leaving behind soothed my frayed nerves.
At this late hour, my flight options were limited to New York, Texas, and Missouri. Although New York seemed intriguing, I knew my money would deplete much faster there. The flight to Texas wasn’t until early morning, and waiting until sunrise would unravel my nerves. So, Missouri it was.
I didn’t know much about the state, but I assumed the weather would be similar to Georgia-humid with a warm sun, but not as intense as Texas or California. Getting a plane ticket was easy, with my duffle bag serving as my carry-on. Each dollar I spent weighed on my mind, but I pushed the numbers away, trying not to dwell on them.
Silver had been silent since our last conversation, buried deep in my thoughts. I had a feeling we wouldn’t talk for a while.
My stomach was a mess of knots and fear until the plane took off. Once we were on air, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. To save money, I declined the offer of first class and squeezed myself as close to the window as possible. The plane wasn’t crowded, but nearly every seat was full.
An older woman sat beside me, with her child on the far end. I leaned my head against the window, peering into the dark sky. I might have enjoyed this flight during the day, with thick clouds resembling large tufts of cotton. At night, only dim stars speckled the sky.
Exhaustion crept up on me since first hopping into the taxi. The adrenaline from sneaking out of the house had worn off, and with my duffle bag tucked on the floor against the wall of the plane, I succumbed to the creeping darkness.
The scent of perfume, mixed with laundry detergent, filled my nose. Floral notes blended with the crisp scent of soap, oddly comforting. Something soft pressed against my cheek and shoulder.
“Sweetheart, the plane’s landed,” a soft voice called out, followed by another touch to my shoulder.
All at once, the events of the last few hours battered my mind. I lurched away from the older woman, whom I had been using as a pillow. She had sandy blonde hair tucked neatly in a bun, with small lines around her eyes and lips. Her deep brown eyes watched me calmly, a motherly smile on her face. The child beside her was also stirring, wiping sleep from his small eyes.
“You seemed exhausted; I didn’t have the heart to wake you,” the woman spoke with a slight southern accent, bringing me a shred of comfort.
“Thanks,” I cleared my throat uncomfortably, blood undoubtedly rushing to my face. I had used this woman as a pillow for the last few hours, and she had allowed it graciously.
Mustering the courage to ask for the time, I stifled a yawn as she told me it was past three in the morning. Grateful to stand, I exited into the warm Missouri air. Even at night, the breeze was thick with warmth.
Outside the airport, taxis and other drivers lingered, smoking or chatting. In the airport, I overheard two older women talking about a town called Chesterfield. They mentioned how lovely it was, and I made my decision on a whim.
Chesterfield was a half-hour drive from the airport. The drive was filled with silence and the dull static of the taxi driver’s radio. I asked to be dropped off at the nearest motel, located in the center of town. The neon blue sign flickered, ivy and vines climbing up the building. A rusted blue railing spanned most of the structure, serving as a balcony for the guests.
The motel office smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener, but it was only a means to an end. I needed a few hours of sleep before searching for a job and a place to live. After paying just under a hundred dollars for three nights, I trudged up to the second floor. The withered key the employee had given me rattled against my pants as I climbed the cement stairs. The doors to each room were the same deep shade of blue as the railing, some freshly painted.
Once inside, I locked the door behind me and took a deep breath, finally allowing myself a moment of rest.
The motel room smelled much like the office-a mix of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener, a fact I tried to push from my mind. While the bed had the musty scent of a dusty attic, I curled up on it gratefully. Despite the worn springs poking into my back, I felt safer than I had in a long time.
For a brief moment, my heart leaped with joy. No more Darren with his drunken rants and wandering hands. No more Lauren with her manipulations and psychological torment. No more absent fathers, talk of my future, or psychopathic ex-girlfriends. For just a split second, before two irresistibly handsome faces popped into my mind, I was truly happy.
*****
I slept well into the morning, waking up with a heavy feeling in my stomach. It was almost certain someone had noticed my absence by now. The old alarm clock on the table read 1:23 p. m. I had slept well into the afternoon. There was always a chance no one had noticed yet-it was Saturday, and I didn’t have a shift at the restaurant until later in the day.
I wondered if I would see my face plastered on television, big bold letters saying ‘Missing.’ Would I become one of those horror stories they tell on TV, the ones about serial killers, missing women, and acts of violence?
Using the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, I took a shower in the rather filthy motel bathroom. After downing a bottle of water and two granola bars, I changed my clothes and left the room.
The two women at the airport had been right about this town; it was quite beautiful. New, crisp buildings lined the streets, some painted bright colors. Small shops were open, and a bakery down the corner filled the air with the smell of buttered rolls and frosting.
The air was thick and humid, the sun dazzling in the sky, adding to the beauty. Lush trees and bushes were scattered throughout the town, clustered on streets and behind buildings. The center of town had an antique feel, with a multitude of colorful shops lining the streets.
For once, hope filled my lungs. Out of all these stores, one had to be willing to hire me. I wanted to use my real name as little as possible; working under the table was a preference, not a necessity.
I walked down the street, breathing in the thick, humid air. I had changed into something more appropriate for the weather: a pair of shorts and a white blouse. My only pair of fairly worn sandals sat on my feet.
Two hours passed, and I had visited most of the shops, buying myself a coffee in the process. I asked each shop if they were looking for new employees. Many said no, while others asked for a phone number to reach me at. Their faces often fell when I informed them I didn’t have a phone, a weary look crossing their faces as though they got many brief travelers looking for money.
While my heart sank with each refusal, I took my time exploring each store. A sliver of pain ran through me as Kat’s face flashed in my mind. She had always wanted to take me shopping, insisting on buying me whatever I wanted. Part of me wished Kat were here, roaming the shops by my side. With a painful sigh, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind.
I had a couple of shops left, but the rumbling of my stomach stopped me in my tracks. The thick scent wafting from the bakery practically called my name, begging for a small fraction of the money I had brought along.
The inside of the shop matched its heavenly smell. White and a light shade of pink lined the bakery, with striped padded seats at each booth. Large round cakes and small pastries sat under thick domes of glass, some still steaming. Notes of frosting, cinnamon, and vanilla filled the store, beckoning the walking crowds outside.
A guy and an identical-looking girl stood behind the counter, both looking determined and a little frazzled. Even from my spot by the door, I could see the small beads of sweat on their foreheads. Sandy blonde hair was plastered to their foreheads, but they continued working as though they hadn’t noticed. The sidewalks were crowded with people, and I couldn’t tell if everyone lived here or if most were tourists from the city. A small crowd had formed in the bakery, with a long line spanning the store.
Taking deep breaths of the sugary scent, I basked in the brief moments of bliss. For now, I could ignore the growing hole in my heart and focus on this small slice of happiness.