Runaway

When I was in fifth grade I had a best friend named Rachel. She was one of those spunky, tomboys who made up for being scrawny by being a tough cookie. In many ways I tried to emulate her and tried my best to imitate the way she spoke, the way she wore her hair, the way she acted. Needless to say I got in a few scrapes in that school year because of her. She was a new kid and the way she carried herself made everyone wary of her. She also had the help of her two stepbrothers; Josh, who was a grade older and way taller than all of us and Carl, who was in our grade and who was blond and blue-eyed with a daredevil attitude to everything.

I only knew them through school and had nothing to do with their outside lives but oh how I wished I could live with them. They always shared their adventures to me and it seemed as if they were orphans and in my imagination I saw them running the concrete jungle in packs like street rats. And in my romaticized view of it I saw them pilfering their food from unknowing vendors and robbing unsuspecting walkers in a crowded street. I wanted to know what that adreneline was like and I wanted to prove that I could do it too. I was in awe and a little afraid of their unscrupulous ways. It seemed so full of danger and for a 10 year old who lived a lot of her life in books, cooped up in her room this was the real thing and it made me yearn for it.

Then came my chance to be part of their little family. One day we were outside in the parking lot of the school, which also was our play area and Rachel and Carl pulled me aside and we walked the perimeter of the yard talking in whispers. They were planning to run away from their home for a few weeks and wondered if I was interested in joining them. They had found that in the park below us there grew these trees/bushes that covered everything beneath them. They were the perfect "homes" because the underside was bare and protected anyone from rain and from people who would be looking for them. They had already tried one out and had found one that was hard to get to but was big enough to fit all of us. My heart and mind raced. They planned to go through with it in a few days, their mom would be going out one afternoon and that was when they would leave. We decided that I would come later that evening when my parents were asleep.

The night came when I was to do the deed and I waited for my parents to finally shut off all the lights and close their door. While I waited I imagined the route that I would be taking. First I would be going out the fire escape, and walk down the hill, then take a left onto Carpenter road and walk past our school one block and go down to the park and find the tree where they would be waiting for me. I was both nervous and exhilirated. I didn't plan on bringing anything extra but my jacket and money.

Ten o'clock rolled around and it had been half an hour since my parents had shut the lights and closed their door. I had to be sure they were really in bed and asleep before attempting anything. I walked to the living room, carrying my sneakers in hand because I figured my padded socks would make less noise than sneakers. I climbed onto the sofa to get to the fire escape and unlatched the lock to the accordian gate we kept over it. I then slid the window open, afraid that my parents would hear that squeal of protest that the never opened window gave. I froze waiting for to hear their door open but it didn't.

From the window a cold night breeze blew and I stepped my socked foot onto the grates of the fire escape and eased the rest of me onto the landing. I stood there feeling the chill of the vertical metal edge pressing against my foot. From the fourth story of my building the street below looked terrifyingly far, the wind also blew my hair around, whipping against my face and I stood there watching as the cars zoomed up the hill. I gazed down toward the bottom of the hill and the streetlamp was bathing the concrete in an eerie yellow light and it looked too far away and strangely empty. My hand was clutching the railing and I realized that it was very cold. I let go of the railing, placed my sneakers onto the ledge of the window and ducked back into the warmth of the house. Closing the window and relatching the gate, I walked back to my room, throwing my sneakers on the floor and crawled into my warm bed and pulled close the book that I was reading.

Me.