She felt God there; she felt Him in the morning, when the sun was just peeking over the houses on the other side of the street. She'd wake up early every day, when the chill of the morning air still required her to wear a sweatshirt that was too big. She'd get up and sit outside, running her fingers across the damp, cold grass, and she'd watch the sun come up, and she'd take in His presence. She did this to remind herself that she wasn't alone. This is how she made it possible to face the days. She just needed to be reminded that she wasn't alone.
Emma lost her mom when she was eight years old. Not too young to remember, and not old enough to be able to understand. She didn’t have many memories of her mom before she was sick, but she tried to keep them in the forefront of her mind. Tomorrow was her sixteenth birthday, and she wasn’t going to celebrate. She doubted anyone remembered it was tomorrow, anyway.
Emma’s father was many things to her; He was a super hero when she was a little girl, and last month he was a prisoner of war, trying to make his way home to her. With this family he was out in Europe trying to find them a good place to live. Emma was put in foster care after her mom passed away, and she dreamed of the day that her real dad would come back to her, and meet her face to face. She knew he would be everything she’d always wanted in a father. The truth was, Emma’s father never wanted her. He left shortly after she was born, and he never came back. Her mom used to tell her stories about him; she used to paint him to be someone amazing, and Emma hoped one day he would prove her mom right. She had yet to find a real family. Emma was a quiet girl who wanted nothing more than to scream out for some kind of answers, but she didn’t know to whom she was going to scream.
On her deathbed, Emma’s mother told her, “never lose faith, Emma. I’ll always be with you, and you will always have God. Trust Him, keep Him close, and everything is going to be okay.” Her mom died 3 hours later, and that was the last real understandable words she heard her mom speak. After that she heard tears, and moaning in pain and remorse. Emma tries to erase those sounds from her memory.The problem with these words her mother spoke to her is that they are too hard to hold on to. Emma wants to make her mom happy, and she wants to make her proud, but she doesn’t see a God in this world. She doesn’t know how to envision a God in this place, where is she scolded for eating incorrectly or not enough, she is punished for getting home from school three minutes late,and she hasn’t heard a word of praise in her direction since before her mother passed away; not in this home or the three prior. She has no family, and she is alone.
She has taken to running, and challenges herself to go further every day. When she is running, she pretends that she is living a different life, and that she is in control of her destiny. One day she plans to run as far as she can, and let her feet carry her out of this world completely. She simply won’t stop. She has few passions in this world, but running is one of them now, along with music. Music is, simply put, something that soothes her mind, and makes her feel at peace with the moment. She has no way of listening to it, though, unless she is in a car or at home, but she desperately wants it for her running.
It’s Tuesday morning, July 4th, and there is no school. Emma goes to the local Target, hoping to “borrow” an Ipod and some headphones. She knew it would be busy today, since the holiday BBQ shoppers are in full-on shopping mode. She goes into the store, hand in pockets, feeling the note she had pre-written saying,“will return tomorrow, I just need it for today. Thank you for understanding. E.” Walking towards the electronics department, she lets her hands run across the scarves on the end-caps of the isle beside her. She stops at the greeting cards, admiring the wide array of classic, cliche cheesiness. Reaching her hand out, she grabs one that says “To my daughter” on the front. Emma only gets a couple sentences in before she feels the ball in her throat. She envisions a marble rolling into her throat, and tries to force it down, feeling as though she has forgotten how to swallow. She quickly puts the card back in its slot, and presses forward. Ipod, Emma, just get the Ipod. Emma walks over to the isle the Ipods are on, hoping that one of the workers will be distracted. She’s seen how they open the cases, knows the keys are generally sitting right at their little shelf behind the counter. They just need to NOT be at the counter. She is elated when she sees a woman walk over and grab the only cashier in sight. Emma is thankful that the people working here are high school students who are paid minimum wage and only care about texting their current infatuations.
She waits for him to get a decent distance away, watches him turn the corner and quickly walks behind the counter. She purposely wore a red shirt today, just in case someone saw her. She sees the keys, hoping they are the right ones, and she grabs them, noticing the cell phone light up right beside them. Looks like Brittany has text your five times since you walked away. Keys in hand, she walks back over to the Ipod isle. Opening the case on the second try, since the first key failed, she grab a purple Ipod, and quickly shuts the case and places the note on top with the keys holding it down. Slipping the Ipod into her pocket, she begins to walk over to the garden center, knowing there is no security alarm through those doors, according to a Google search. She gets through the doors, and a feeling of freedom, excitement, and guilt rush through her simultaneously.
Knowing her “caregivers” are busy and distracted, she sneaks into the office, where she isn’t allowed, and puts as much music on the Ipod as she can. She mostly goes for Taylor Swift, knowing her lyrics always make her feel some version of happy.
Emma goes for her run; she lets the music set her pace, feeling it change with every new track that comes on. Maybe she won’t return the Ipod, she thinks, maybe she deserves it. If there is a God, He would surely be willing to forgive her for such a small thing, right? The store had so many of them; they can’t possibly be missing this one little device.
So this is how Emma’s days go; She wakes up every morning, and rises before the world is moving, she makes her way outside, while everyone else is stone-still in their beds, and she sits. Emma turns her eyes, her face, and her mind towards the sun, and she tries to feel something; she tries to feel anything. The sense of peace and God being with her used to be stronger than it is now. She is just happy that it is still present at all. She doesn’t know God like she used to, she doesn’t know how to talk with Him like she used to, but she still makes this effort to seek Him, and to breathe in His warmth, as her blanket of cover for the pains of the day. This is where Emma feels that God is with her. This is where Emma feels that her mother is still with her. And this is how she knows she can make it through one more day. When she can feel Him no longer, and when she can’t be still another moment, she put in her ear buds, presses play, and she runs, with no destination in mind, she simply runs.
~~~~~~~~~
“Jason, wake up! Get dressed, you’re going to make us late!” Marybeth shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Jason stirred in his bed, rolling over to look at the clock on his side table. 7:30am, Sunday morning. Church didn’t start until 9:00am, but he had to do as his parents said. They HAD to be there at 8:00am. Rubbing his face, he tried to remember the dream he had woken up from. Someone was running. It was a girl, but he didn’t see her face. He heard her, though, and it sounded like she was crying. “Jason! GET UP!” He snapped out of his trance and jumped out of bed. This was the life of a Preacher’s son. Jason sighed, said a quick prayer of thanks for the day, and patience to deal with his crazy parents on another Sunday. He loved God, and he had a great relationship with Him. He loved his parents too, he just wasn’t really a morning person, and he didn’t care to be early for things all the time. “Type A personality, Jason, just remember, your parents are completely Type A. There is no use in arguing with them.”
Jason was 17 and tired. He hadn’t cut his hair in months, and it was shaggy, covering his eyes. His mom hated it, and his dad, the preacher, said it made him look like a “hoodlum.” Jason knew that they didn’t get it. The whole football team was doing it, since they were on their way to the championship. They were going to be dying it their school colors when they went to the championship game. His parents weren’t thrilled, but they knew he loved his sports, and he was a straight A student who never gave them any problems. He was a complete contradiction of most of the football players, and they didn’t understand him. He was both captain of the football team, and leader of the Christian Club at his school. He prayed before every game, and got the rest of the team to do it with him.They accepted that he had his beliefs, and didn’t mind, since he was a damn good player. MVP the past three years at this school, fully expected to be awarded it this year as well.
Jason untangled the mop on his head, ran down stairs and grabbed the toast his mom had made for him, and threw a sweater over his head. “Really Jason, can’t you dress just a little bit nicer? It’s church, and people typically wear something other than jeans and a ‘Tigers Football’ sweater when in the presence of the Lord.”
“Mom, I’m always in the presence of the Lord. He doesn’t live in the church building, and Jesus wore Saltwater Sandals. Jus’ sayin.’”
His mom knew she couldn’t really argue with that, so all three of them walked out to their 1998 Toyota Corolla, which Jason thought was a junker, but his dad said that if they couldn’t pay cash for something, then they didn’t have the right to have it. They all jumped in and headed to the church.
~~~~~~~
Emma was just about to leave for her morning run, and feeling a little lost. She didn’t feel much of a connection with God that morning, even less than other mornings, and she desperately wanted to feel the love she once felt in her life. She asked Him to help her, she asked that of Him everyday. She asked for her mom back, too, but knew that one would go unanswered. She didn’t want to live with these people anymore. She was tired of the way they always seemed to judge her, and she didn’t like listening to them argue. Closing her eyes, she could hear them on repeat from that morning. “Emma is really starting to get on my last nerve with this obsession with running. She doesn’t have time to get her chores done like she should be, and she certainly is starting to eat more—too much, if you ask me. We can’t afford to keep her and the twins fed,” she heard the woman say. Often Emma forgot the twins were even a part of the “family.” Kids came and went so frequently that she didn’t really take the time to get to know them. She doesn’t know why they have allowed her to stay here the past 5 years, but they have. She wonders if they’ll ever try to actually adopt her, but she doubts it, since they clearly can’t stand her being here. She felt that her time here was probably going to come to an end soon, since it always seemed to come to an end, and soon she would be moving on to the next family who didn’t like, or want her. Emma opened her eyes and wiped away the small tear that was beginning to form. She grabbed her Ipod that she had never returned and headed for the door.
She ran a couple blocks before she heard the church bells start to chime. She always heard them on Sunday mornings, but she never paid much attention to them. Today, though, they seemed to be echoing in her mind.
Emma stopped running as she felt the same welt build up in her throat. She sat down in the lawn of whoever lived at 22 E millbrook street, and she closed her eyes.
“Emma, are you ready to go? It’s Sunday morning, and God is waiting for us! Rise and shine! Up, Up, Up!” Her mom gently shook her bed. Emma opened her eye, only one, squinting up at her mom.
“Mommy, can’t we have a day to just lay in bed. I’m so sleepy! Jesus understands, I’m sure he was sleepy sometimes, too!
“I’ll tell you what, pretty girl! How about we go this morning to church, and then next weekend, for your 7thbirthday, I’ll take you to ice cream, right after we go to church.” Her mom looked over and winked at her, knowing she understood that there was just no escape.
“Okay, okay! I’m awake! Can I pick my own outfit this week? I don’t want to wear a dress, mama!”
“Yes, yes, you can be a princess! Or even a mermaid! Wear whatever you want to wear! Surprise me!” Her mom leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, and Emma smelt the fresh smell of fabric softener on her mom’s clothing, fresh out of the dryer. They didn’t have much, but they had each other, and she loved her mom.
“Can I help you?” Emma heard a voice and it shook her from her dream.
“Oh, no, sorry.” She turned around and saw a woman in a robe staring at her from the door to the house. “Just, um, rolled my ankle. I’m good now, just needed to stretch it." Getting up, she smiled at the lady, through the tears forming in her eyes again, and she started to jog again towards the church with the bells.
She didn’t often think about the days when she used to go to church with her mom.To this exact church, actually, which is why she found it better to ignore the bells all together. If she couldn’t go with her mom, than she wouldn’t go at all. Not there, not by herself. “Jesus Lives” was the name of the church, and she always found it sort of funny for a church name. It was a non-denominational Christian Church, and she used to enjoy it very much. Emma turned down the street the church was on, and slowed her pace. She could see it, with it’s taller than necessary structure, and huge gathering room. The churches community had grown since she last went there, and she could see that just by how many people were making their ways to the glass double-doors.
She felt something in her heart nudging her to go in, but she didn’t want to. She was afraid that she couldn’t handle it, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. “You aren’t dressed properly to go to church, Emma. For goodness sake, you’re in running shorts and a spaghetti strap. You can’t go in there.” She jogged a bit closer, and slowly walked up to the vestibule outside the church doors. Turning off her Ipod, and removing her headphones, Emma sat down on one of the benches. She closed her eyes, and she could see her mom sitting with her. She tried not to let herself go back into a complete memory again, since she was still trying to hold back tears from the last memory. But she saw her in her mind, sitting on this exact bench, looking at the fountain flowing in front of them, and the other people sitting on the benches circling the fountain. It smelled of chlorine and pennies. She breathed it in. She heard the footsteps of people walking by her, but she didn’t open her eyes to look. She wouldn’t go inside, but she would just be here for a minute. If she could sense her mom with her, and refrain from crying like an idiot with no control, then she would sit here, at least until the feeling went away.
“Hey, I haven’t see you here before, I don’t think. Are you coming in? Service is about to start.”
Emma looked up and saw a young man standing in front of her. His shaggy hair was half covering his eyes, half blowing with the light breeze. She knew him, though he didn’t recognize her. “I’ve been here.You’re Jason, the Preacher’s son. I think I am just going to sit out here. I’m not exactly dressed. My name is Emma.”
“Emma Dawson? Is that really you? I haven’t seen you since we were little kids. How are you?” Jason sat down beside her and smiled.
Emma let out a little smile and a blush. “I’m doing okay, I guess. Just out for a run, trying to get some fresh air, and I heard the bells.”
“Oh, okay! Yeah, the bells are definitely a trademark for this church.” Brushing the hair out of his eyes, he glanced over at her, taking in her features. “So do you live around here then?
“Well, kinda. I think it’s about a mile or two from here. I changed school districts, though, when I moved the first time. I’ve moved a couple of times, but I’ve been with these people for a bit.”
“Yeah, that must have been hard, moving around. I’m so sorry about your mom. I’ve always wanted to tell you that. She was such a wonderful person, and we were so young—you were so young. No one should have to go through that. I can’t even imagine how your life has been.”
“I guess it hasn’t been easy, exactly, but I get by. How have you been? I bet things have changed a lot since we were in bible school. Do you remember those days? Gosh, we really were something, weren’t we? Always trying to be the teachers pet, always trying to please. Especially you! Preacher’s son!” Emma let out a laugh and nudged him with her shoulder.
“We definitely were something! I missed you when you left, but I didn’t know where you moved to, and I didn’t know how to contact you. I thought I’d see you in school, but I never did. Eventually I just assumed I’d never see you again, but here you are! I haven’t changed much, other than the obvious getting older. Just playing sports. The hair will be cut after the championship game. Kinda a school tradition.” He threw his head to the side a bit to make his hair move out of his face again.
Emma watched him as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head. She couldn’t help but notice him arms and the definition in them. He was definitely strong for a high school student, and she watched the muscles move as his arm moved.
“ahh, I see.” She smiled at him, knowing she should be leaving before she started flirting or, worse, crying from memories of her mom again. “I’m sorry we lost touch. You were a good friend to me, one of my only ones, probably. I should be going, though, my foster parents are going to wonder where I am. It was great seeing you! Looking up, she noticed how the sun made Jason’s brown eyes the color of maple. She quickly looked away. “You should probably get in there, anyway, I can hear your dad talking already.”
“Yeah, you’re right, but sometimes it’s okay a little late for things.” Jason smiled and looked over at her, noticing the sun reflecting off her dark brown hair. She looked so different now, so pretty. “You should come next week, if you want! If you get here early, I can show you how much has changed since you were here last. I am always here at eight AM on the dot, since my parents need to prepare for everything. I’d love to show you around.”
“I’ll think about it. It’s good to see you, but I should really be on my way. Like I said, my foster parents are going to wonder where I am, and they are going to want me to get my chores done.” Emma started to stand and put her headphones back in.
“Hey, wait, before you go, do you have a phone number, or can you tell me your address? I’d love to see you again, if you don’t come to church next week! I feel like I’m having a flashback to elementary days.”
Emma rattled off a number, without having anything to write it with, and Jason promised he would remember it, and he would call her. “Take care, Emma. It was really good seeing you again. I couldn’t have planned a better Sunday morning.”
Emma stood to leave, and she could feel Jason watching her as she followed the path back to the road. When she got home she couldn’t help but recognize that she felt a little bit better than she had before her run. Maybe it was the endorphins; maybe it was seeing an old friend. Maybe it was a little bit of both. She wasn’t sure, but she welcomed the feeling, and hoped it would remain. Heading up stairs to take a shower, she caught herself wondering if he would remember her phone number, if he would call. She doubted it, she looked like a mess, and there was no way he would actually want to see her again. What could they possibly have in common anymore, anyway? And would she REALLY want to get involved with the Preacher’s son?
~~~~~~~
“And exactly where have YOU been all morning?” Emma heard her foster mom’s voice the second she got out of the shower and dressed.
“I was just going for a run, Kathy, like I always do.”
“You don’t normally take that long, and you need to get your chores done. You take everything for granted. This house isn’t going to clean itself, you know. I’m sure you have homework to do, too. Maybe we should just take those running shoes away for a while.” She stared at Emma, as if she was the wisest person to ever exist.
Emma looked back at her, at the mole on her double chin that seemed to be growing a beard these days, and couldn’t help but feel sorry for how pathetic she was. “I’ll get everything done, don’t worry. And I’ve already finished my homework for the week, so I have plenty of time to get the kitchen and yard done. Sorry I’m late.”
Emma always tried to be courteous and polite, because she knew that being anything else would get her no where. Plus, she needed to have some semblance of peace in her life. Sometimes she thought about just leaving and never coming back. She would be happier sleeping under a bridge with a Thrift Shop blanket, than on the old futon that smelled of cat pee and mold. She knew she could probably report them, and get taken somewhere else, but she had learned to play their balancing act, and she didn’t want to have to learn it again with another family. Going to the kitchen, she began to do the dishes, trying to ignore how distracted her thoughts were. She thought of Jason, and how he smiled at her. She didn’t realize it then, but she remembers now that he smelled good. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could still smell it. He smelled like something fresh, like home, he smelled like freedom.
“What is your problem, girl, you’ve been washing that same plate for fifteen minutes.You’re going to scrub a hole into it.” Kathy’s shrill voice vibrated in her ears and she jumped.
Focus, Emma. You don’t have time for this. He doesn’t matter. She opened her eyes, and finished the dishes, one by one, reminding herself over and over again that Jason was just a stupid boy, and he wasn’t going to call. Her life didn’t come easy, and good things like that just didn’t happen. She’d just turned sixteen and there was nothing sweet about it. She didn’t have a party, she didn’t have her first kiss. Hell, she didn’t even have her first hand-holding session. Instead she stayed in her room and she did nothing. She drew herself a picture of a cake, and then crumbled it up and threw it in the trash bin.
The day came to a close in same way it always did. She picked at her dinner and then went up to bed. She’d lie in her bed and read whatever book she could find until she was tired enough to fall asleep. This night, though, she wasn’t getting tired. She kept reflecting on her life with her mom, and how much she longed to be with her. The house was quietude, and she knew everyone was asleep. Grabbing a sweatshirt, she headed down the stairs quietly; avoiding the step that she knew always creaked with any pressure. She opened the door, and closed it slowly, breathing in the night air. It smelled fresh, and it smelled of freedom. She needed to see her mom. She began to jog, and it soon turned into a full on sprint. She didn’t know what time it was, but she assumed it was around 11:30. It was 5 miles to the cemetery, and she wanted to be there as soon as possible. She got there in 32 minutes flat, according to her watch, if it had been 11:30 when she left, and she wished she could have run faster.
Emma walked over to the grave site, and took in the smell of grass and moist dirt that was all around her. Seeing her mom’s stone, she sat down where she was buried and she wept. She wanted to talk, but instead she just sat there for awhile and she wept. She didn’t know how long she was there until she saw the sun started to peak over the horizon line. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing but a wheezing sound came out from within her throat, and she realized her voice was hoarse from her sobbing. Clearing her throat as best as she could, she mustered up what voice she had, to try and talk to her mom. “I need you, mom. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t believe in anything, I don’t talk to anyone, and I need you. Come back, please.” Cracking out these words, she knew she had to get home before everyone woke up, but she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to ever go back there. Emma put on the hood from her sweatshirt and she began to walk. She checked her pockets to see what she brought with her. She had her phone, chapstick, her wallet, which had five dollars in it, and her Ipod. She didn’t have much, but she didn’t care. She would figure out what to do when she needed to do something.
~~~~~~~
When Jason got home that morning from church, he kept thinking of Emma. She was so pretty, but she looked so lost, and so troubled. He wanted to hug her, but he thought it might be a little overwhelming for her. He remembers having a crush on her when they were in second grade. He always wanted to be around her. It was as if he felt that exact same emotion this morning when he realized who she was. She looked so different, and had gotten very thin and frail. He wanted to, he needed to help her. Jason picked up the phone and put it down again. He didn’t want to scare her, and she technically did RUN away. Maybe he would wait a day or two and then call. He didn’t want to seem desperate. He wasn’t trying to scare her away, and he just wanted to be her friend right now and help her. He remembers how she used to be so happy and joyful when they were at church together.
Going upstairs to take a nap, since he hates waking up early on Sunday’s, he decides he will call her Monday morning. Jason kicked a couple items of clothing out of the way while walking towards his bed, and he throws himself into it. He closes his eyes and he imagines them as little kids, laughing together at church and poking fun at each other. He sees her smiling, and he wishes he could make her smile like that again; he wishes he could make her light up like she used to. He drifts off to sleep, and dreams about her mom. She is crying, but she looks how Jason remembers her before she was sick. She is tan, and very pretty, and she is staring at Jason. She has a look of desperation in her eyes, while the tears keep streaming. She doesn’t make a sound, but she is so desperate looking. He wakes up short of breath and sweating. He looks around the room, trying to find his buried alarm clock, and see’s that it is 3:30 in the afternoon. “Why do my naps ALWAYS turn into small comas?” He says out loud, and goes to the hallway bathroom to take a quick shower. He walks into the bathroom, and stops in front of the mirror, examining himself. His eyes are red, and his hair is soaking wet from his sweating. He sees fear in his eyes that he doesn’t recognize; he feels a sense of confusion that he hasn’t felt before.
After getting cleaned up, he goes to the other side of the house to the kitchen to get something to eat, but he can’t seem to get the dream out of his mind. He keeps seeing her face, and how she stared at him. He knows that Joseph used to have dreams and that God would speak to him through his dreams, but he doubted that this could be the same thing. He was just emotional from the whole day, and seeing her made him think of her mom. He felt so bad for what they went through, and he finally was able to tell her how sorry he was. It was just a lot to take in for one day, and he was overwhelmed. Even after deciding this in his mind, though, he still felt uneasy for the duration of the day. When dinner time came around he didn’t eat, and his parents knew something must be bothering him.
“Hey, kiddo, what’s on your mind? You haven’t even touched your dinner, and you always eat at least 3 helpings.” Jason’s dad, Chris, looked at him with a concerned smile.
“Just thinking, I guess. Do you believe in dreams? I mean, do you believe God still comes to people in their dreams, or tries to send them messages?”
Chris sat for a second, looking over at his son. “I definitely think He can. It just depends on what the dream is, and what the message is. What did you see? What do you think the message was?”
“I don’t really know. Do you remember Emma? Her mom died of cancer about eight years ago?”
“Of course! You two were pretty close. Did you dream about her? We haven’t seen her since before that happened. She was such a sweet girl.”
“I saw her today. I didn’t dream of her, but I saw her. She was sitting outside the church, and I sat and talked with her for a bit. She looked so lost, but good, other than that.” Jason looked up at his dad, “but I dreamed of her mom. She was healthy, dad, but she was crying and she was looking at me with such desperation in her eyes, like she NEEDED me to help her in some way. It can’t be her that I need to help though, right? It has to be Emma?”
Chris smiled at his son, “I always wonder how we were so blessed with such a caring kid. I don’t really know, though, son. I’d have to pray about it, and you should too. Maybe just sleep on it tonight, and see how you feel tomorrow. I’m sure you know how to reach Emma, if you need to. So, if you feel you should, then do. We can have her come for dinner, and evaluate how she is doing, for lack of a better way of phrasing it.”
“Alright, I can do that. I’ll call her tomorrow, though, probably. Even if she doesn’t need my help, I would love to see her again. She was such a good friend when we were little.”
Jason took a couple bites of his food, and decided to turn in to bed early. He wanted it to be the next day, so he could call Emma and see how she was doing, make plans to see her again. Laying down, he felt restless, and he tossed and turned for a while, trying to force himself into sleep.
“Tag, you’re it!” Emma shouted as she ran up and smacked him in the arm.
“Wait, this is freeze tag, and you were supposed to be frozen! I saw you get frozen! That’s not fair!”
“No, I wasn’t frozen, because this isn’t freeze tag. Everyone left, anyway, and I want to keep playing, so YOU ARE IT!” Emma smiled and giggled and she ran in the opposite direction, knowing that Jason would be chasing right after her.
“Get back here, you’re too fast. I’ll never catch you! What about Hide-and-go-seek? That game is more fun!”
“Okay, deal! Start counting and I’ll go hide! You’ll NEVER find me!”
Jason began to count, and Emma ran into their house, going into the office, where his mom was working on the computer. “Hi Marybeth, can I, umm, can I hide under your desk? I don’t think Jason will look there! Not if you’re working. I promise not to bug you!”
“Of course, sweetie. You’re never a bother!” Marybeth scooted her chair out and let Emma crawl under.
“READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!” Jason shouted from out the front door. He ran immediately inside, knowing that Emma ALWAYS hid indoors for some reason.
“Emma, where are you? Hey, mom, have you seen Emma?” Jason poked his head into the office, trying to get his mom to give away Emma’s location.
“Can’t say that I have, kiddo, sorry.”
Emma let out a little giggle at this, and her location was given up.
“Found you!”
“That’s not fair, you aren’t supposed to cheat! And I think it’s funny when your mom lies to you about where I’m at. You’re mean!”
Jason closed his eyes at this memory, and his mind drifted off to sleep, thinking of Emma, and hearing her giggle in his mind. He woke up the next morning to the same dream, and he knew he needed to call Emma and see what she was doing, how she was, and try and make plans with her.
~~~~~~
Emma put her ipod back on, and placed the headphones in her ears. She had already made it to the edge of town, and decided she needed to start jogging again. She remembered how people in movies got rides from strangers, but she hadn’t resorted to that quite yet. She didn’t trust people, and she didn’t want to be alone in a car with a stranger. She would just walk until she couldn’t anymore, and then she would find a place to sleep. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and she pulled it out, expecting it to be one of the two adults in her household, wondering where she was, and why she hadn’t cleaned the bathroom or raked the leaves. She didn’t recognize the number, and decided it would be better to just not answer it. She placed the phone back into her pocket, only to pull it out again moments later when it vibrated against her leg again. Voicemail.
Emma pressed the “play” button, and put the phone up to her ear. “Hey Emma, it’s me Jason, just wanted to call and see how you’re doing, and if you maybe wanted to go get some lunch or something, anyway, call me back. You can reach me at the number that should have showed up! Talk to you soon, I hope! Bye!” Emma quickly hit the “call back” button and waited for Jason to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Jason, It’s me Emma.”
“Emma! Hey, how are you? How was the rest of your day yesterday?”
“I’m doing alright. It was good, I guess, just got my chores done. How are you?”
“I’m good. What are you doing today? Do you have any plans?”
“Oh, no real plans, I guess, just have to do things around the house. Always have to take care of things for the foster family, to keep them happy.”
“Well, if you want, we can maybe go grab a bite to eat? I know a place just outside of town, and I was planning on going there today with my family, but maybe you and I can go? I can pick you up, if dad lets me take the car.”
Emma paused for a moment, realizing that she couldn’t make plans with him, and she shouldn’t have called back. She needed to leave, and find a way for herself. She just wanted to talk to him for reasons she didn’t really understand at that moment. “That would be fun, but I really can’t leave the house today. Too much to do. Maybe next time, though?”
Jason heard sounds in the background of the phone call, and it sounded like traffic, but he didn’t want to assume she wasn’t at home in her house. He heard a lot of cars going by, and just as he was about to speak, he heard a car honk, and it quickly became muffled, as if Emma placed her hand over the speaker. “Okay, that sounds good. Maybe tomorrow or this weekend sometime?”
“Yes, definitely! This weekend would probably work better for me! I have to go, I’ll talk to you soon! Bye!”
Emma hung up the phone, and felt stupid for calling him at all. He must have heard the honk, he must know I was lying to him. Why did I lie? Why didn’t I tell him I was out for a jog? While berating herself in her own mind, she realized she had to use the bathroom really badly. Looking around, she saw a chevron on the other side of the street and began to walkover to the doors. “Can I use your bathroom, please?”
“The bathroom is just for paying customers,” said a little man with a big belly and a fat lip.
“Okay, fine, I’ll buy this Tootsie Pop, and use the bathroom, please.” Emma placed the orange sucker on the counter and pulled out the only five dollars she had, handing it to the bitter little man.
“Thank you, Four-seventy-five is your change. Bathroom is around the corner to the right, here is the key.” He handed her the key, and she felt the greasiness of it against her skin. She held it between the tips of her two fingers, and walked over to the restroom. Maybe leaving really WASN’T the best idea I’ve ever had. She walked into the bathroom, and took in the filth of it.There was a yellowish tint to walls that looked like they should have been white, and the toilet had a piece of hair sitting right on the lid. Emma blew out a big breath, hoping the hair would go away, and she decided to try the hovering technique in order to pee.
Once she was done in the bathroom, she handed the key back to the greedy, grinning man behind the counter, and she walked out the door eating her lollipop. She knew there was a Wal-Mart just up the road about another mile, and she decided she would stay there for the day and night, if possible.
~~~~~
Jason paced his room, time and time again, trying to decide what he was going to do. He didn’t know if Emma was safe or not, but he knew she wasn’t at home, and she told him that she was. He kept picturing the way her mom looked in his dreams, and he couldn’t let his mind rest unless he did something to ensure that he knew she was safe. “Dad? Dad, are you here? Can I borrow the car? I just want to go into town for a little bit, and maybe go grab a bite to eat.”
“Sure, we don’t need it until this evening, but just drive safely!”
Jason took the keys and quickly ran out the door. Getting in the car, he fumbled with his seatbelt, trying to get it on in a hurry. He adjusted his seat, since he was much taller than his dad, started the car, and threw it into drive. He headed out of town, trying to remember to drive safely. Luckily they lived in a small town, lathrop, California, and it wasn’t going to be too hard to find a street that is filled with traffic. There was only one in town. He drove through the streets and got there in about twenty minutes, beginning to slow his speed, and keep his eyes open. “Where would she go, if she was trying to go somewhere? Why would she want to leave? She didn’t say they were bad foster parents, but she didn’t seem too thrilled to have to go back to their home, either. Maybe it is a bad situation. Her mom must be trying to tell me something.” Jason spoke out loud to himself, trying to place all of his thoughts in order. Looking over to his left, he saw a Wal-Mart just up the road.
“Wal-Mart? Would Emma go there? Maybe she was just out for a walk and going there. It wouldn’t hurt to look, I guess.” Jason didn’t know why something in him was pulling on him to go look inside Wal-Mart, but he just felt that he had to. He pulled into the parking lot and jumped out of the car, locking it behind him. He walked to the doors and went inside when they slid open to his movements. He walked up and down the isles, keeping his eyes open for Emma, not knowing what she would be wearing, but trying to spot her anyway. The store wasn’t busy, thankfully, since it was a Monday morning, but he wished there were even less people than there were. He smiled at people who smiled at him, trying to erase the look of fear on his face. That was when he saw her.
Emma was standing a couple isles in front of him, looking at the camping gear, unzipping, and rezipping the door to a display tent, looking as though she was in deep thought. He hesitated a moment before approaching her, wondering if he should simply turn and leave her be, but he knew that he couldn’t. “Emma? Is that you?”
Emma turned around, shocked to hear someone say her name. “Oh, what? Me? Jason? What are you doing here?”
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