Run

Read Run for Free Online Page B

Book: Read Run for Free Online
Authors: Gregg Olsen
night.
    “  …  tell me just how that’s supposed to work?”
    After a long silence, Mom hung up the phone. She stayed very still on the sofa and wrapped an old crocheted blanket around her shoulders.
    I recall something else just then. It was Christmas time . Our tree was up next to the fireplace. Why hadn’t I remembered this before?
    I take my mind back to that place. I stood there frozen, watching Mom. I had the impulse to run over and hug her, but I was too scared. Later, when I thought about the reasons for my reluctance to interfere, I figured that it had to do with the fact that my mother was a private person. To see her crying almost seemed like a violation of her privacy.
    Then she saw me. I felt a jolt go through my body. I was caught. She recovered a little and motioned for me to come closer. I followed the trajectory of her finger to a spot next to her on the sofa.
    “Honey,” she said, “I’m all right, but I do have something to tell you. It’s about tomorrow. We’re going to take a little trip tomorrow. It’ll be fun.”
    Her eyes were red and nothing that came from her lips seemed like it could possibly be fun.
    “Where?” I finally asked.
    “That’s the fun part,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “I don’t know. We don’t know.” Her eyes left mine and wandered around the room. I followed them until her gaze stood still.
    On our coffee table was a travel magazine with the image of a log cabin in the woods.
    “We’re going out West,” she said.
    Her random choice scared me. It felt desperate. “Why?”
    But my mother had pulled herself together now. She was in full-on survival mode, an affectation that I later knew to be a complete façade. “Because we have to get away from someone. Someone bad. Someone who wants to hurt me.”
    I didn’t understand exactly what she meant. But the funny thing about it was that I didn’t even ask. I just accepted it. The next morning, I found her in front of the fireplace burning papers and photographs. I watched my own image get licked and then devoured by orange and blue flames.
    Ten minutes later, we were gone and my name was no longer Shelly. We took nothing with us. Not even those pink bunny slippers. I always missed those slippers so much.
    “Anna,” she said, trying out my new name as we drove toward the highway, “starting over will save us. Starting over is the only way we can survive.”

Chapter Five
    Cash: $107.80.
    Food: Coffee and a maple bar for me, hot chocolate and a maple bar for Hayden.
    Shelter: None at the moment.
    Weapons: Same scissors.
    Plan: Stay calm.
    BEFORE WE LEAVE FOR THE bank, we make one more stop. If I’m going to get into the safe deposit box, I’m going to have to look like her . Mom. Her backup ID is in Dad’s wallet. My hair is pretty much Mom-ready right now. But my clothes still look like a teenager’s. A hoodie and jeans might work, depending on the bank cashier’s mood. I can fake her latest signature no problem—she doesn’t know that I’ve done it a time or two to get out of speech class. It isn’t that I mind getting up in front of a group to give a speech on a subject, like how social networking is driving people further apart and not closer together. Or maybe a demonstration speech on how to make fortune cookies with subversive messages like:
    Holy crap! You’re a loser.
    You will never find love.
    Your best moment was so five minutes ago.
    I did that demo speech in January and got an A-minus. What I don’t like are the impromptu speeches—the ones in which the teacher tells you to share a story from your childhood, to talk about family traditions that you value most. Or anything genuinely personal. I’m a good liar, but not to people that I see every day. I can lie to strangers without even the tiniest flutter of remorse.
    I drag Hayden to the Lost and Found office in the ferry terminal at Colman Dock. It isn’t open yet, so we sit and wait, mostly in silence. We watch people come

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