Runaways

  His eyes narrowed as he studied me closer. "This is a joke, right?"

  "It's getting to be. We were robbed along the way, accused of stealing and now have car trouble. We can't go back so we're caught in a vise that keeps squeezing us tighter and tighter."

  He was silent.

  "There's the junkyard," he indicated, nodding at the fenced-in yard directly ahead of us.

  A man who looked close to seventy was piling some tires just inside the entrance. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of jeans with a rather significant hole in the rear end that revealed his faded boxer shorts. The lines in his face looked etched by a scalpel. He had a complexion the color of burnt toast. When he smiled, he showed a mouth with a number of teeth gone.

  "What are you doin' here so late?" he asked as we pulled up. Todd had his window down.

  "Breakdown. I need a water pump for a 90 Buick Wagon. Think you've got one, Lefty?" he asked.

  The old man turned, squeezed his grimy jaw between his left forefinger and thumb and thought a moment. I gazed at the pile of wrecks, the sea of metal, rubber and glass. To my eye there was no order or reason to why anything was where it was. I saw older wrecks mixed in with new vehicles, trucks with cars, a school bus turned on its side near a John Deere tractor and a recreational vehicle that looked like it had been on fire. In some of the wrecks, birds had made themselves homes.

  "Take the freeway to the Golden Gate," Lefty instructed. "Seems I remember a Buick in there about that age. Johnny picked it up near Cranberry Lake a year or so ago."

  "Thanks."

  Todd drove in.

  "The freeway to the Golden Gate?" I asked. He laughed.

  "Lefty's joke. He names the corridors and if you've been here enough times as I have, you know what he's talking about. This is the freeway. And this," he said turning right and slowing down to a crawl, "is the Golden Gate." We went over some sheets of metal that had been placed there to navigate over some deep ditches.

  Cars were piled two and in some places three high on our right and left. We both looked and suddenly, I spotted it.

  "There!" I said, pointing to my right, a few yards in from the corridor.

  "Good work," he said, impressed.

  The vehicle I had spotted had its roof bashed in, the windshield and side windows shattered and the driver's side door ripped off.

  "Looks like it rolled," Todd said after stopping. We got out and went to the wreck. He tried to open the hood, but it was jammed shut.

  "Going to take some doing," he said.

  "Will Lefty help?"

  "Here it's find what you want and get it yourself. Then you go up to the gate and bargain with Lefty for a while. I have some tools in the trunk," he added and went back to the car. I studied the hood and saw where the latch had been jammed. While he walked around the car, I took out his rubber hammer and a chisel and began pounding the tooth of the latch. To my surprise it broke free and then I stood up, put my fingers under the hood and pulled. He stood by, smiling with amazement when it went up.

  "Need a job?" he asked, half-jokingly. "Actually, yes. We're pretty low on funds." "I'll bet. Traveling isn't cheap."

  "Especially when you get robbed," I said.

  He shook his head, still not sure whether or not I was making it all up. Then he leaned over the engine, located the water pump and studied it for a moment.

  "It looks good," he said.

  I stood by and watched him remove the pump. As he worked, he talked a bit more about himself and the area, but occasionally, he snuck in a question about our lives in the foster home.

  "So," he said just before pulling out the pump, "your foster parents aren't looking for you?"

  "Oh yes. By now they surely are."

  He nodded and then pulled out the pump. I helped him put back his tools and we started out of the yard, pausing at the gate to show Lefty what we had taken. He studied it a moment.

  "Twenty dollars seems fair," he said.

  "It seems fair," Todd replied, "but it's not. I got a ten that's fair." He showed the bill.

  "You're robbin' me," Lefty grumbled.

  "Wouldn't be the first time," Todd told him. Lefty laughed, just a silent chuckle.

  "Your dad taught you well," he said, taking the ten. "I feel generous today."

  "Thanks, Lefty. See you."

  "Tell your dad hello," he called as we started away.

  "Thanks for being such a good negotiator," I said. He laughed.

  "It's just a game Lefty always asks twice as much as he'll take. Everyone knows it. You were a great help," he added.

  "Will your your father be upset that you're spending so much time with us?" I asked him. He shook his head and was silent for a while.

  Then he took a breath.

  "My father doesn't do all that much with the station anymore. He's got a bad leg, diabetes," he explained. Then he turned to me and added, "He spends most of his time with a bottle."

  "Oh. I'm sorry."

  "I'll have to go home for a while," he said. "What I'll do is come back after dinner and work on this for you guys, but I think it's a good idea you all get a room for a night."

  "Okay. Maybe Crystal called already. She's very efficient."

  "Crystal?"

  I told him a little about each of us. Talking to him was easy; it felt as though we'd known each other forever. He listened quietly and then turned to me and said, "You don't have to worry about me, Brooke. You all do what you think is best for you. I'm not going to call the police or anything."

  "I know," I said. I truly did believe him. It put a soft smile on his lips. "I can come back and help you later if you tell me when," I joked.

  "Sure. Like I said, if you want to stay and become my assistant . . ."

  I laughed, just imagining.

  "I'm the only one who drives. They'd all have to stay."

  "Oops. That's too many girls for me," he said and we both laughed.

  We were laughing when we pulled up. Raven was sitting on the step by the office, looking as if she was standing guard.

  "It's about time," she cried the moment we stepped out of the car. "It's getting late. Crystal called the bed and breakfast and thinks we should sleep there."

  "It's a good idea," Todd said. "You have to stay somewhere tonight."

  Crystal came out and filled me in on the details.

  "I took a chance, Brooke," she said, "hoping this wasn't going to cost more than twenty dollars. Is it?" she asked, her face full of worry. Todd overheard and stepped up to us.

  "Don't worry about the car. The part cost just ten dollars;" he said. "And I won't charge you for labor."

  "Really? That's wonderful."

  "I gotta go home for a while, so why don't I drive you all to the bed and breakfast," he suggested. "Oh, and Brooke, I could use some help tater when I start working on the pump. Do you want to come help?"

  "Uh. . . yeah, sure," I answered. The way my heart was beating you'd think I just got asked to the prom.

  "I'm hungry," Butterfly said. "All we had were some candy bars in there."

  Todd laughed.

  "I know. I've got to start eating better. You'll get a good supper at the Woodside," Todd said.

  We got into his car and he drove us to what looked like someone's private home. There was only a small sign to indicate that rooms were for rent.

  "Tell Mrs. Slater hello for me," Todd said as we got out.

  "I will," I said. "Two hours?"

  "Two hours."

  He drove off and Raven shook her head.

  "I don't know, Brooke. I was worried about you going off alone with him, but if putting a water pump into a car engine is his idea of a date, I guess he's probably safe."

  Everyone laughed as I turned beet red.

  Maybe because I was very hungry too, I saw Mrs. Slater in terms of food. She wasn't more than two or three inches taller than Butterfly and as plump as a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey. Her jowls shook like Je
ll-O when she walked, or waddled along, I should say. Her hair was milk white with a hairpin the color of dark chocolate holding her bun tightly against the back of her head. Her eyes were almost mint green, bright and friendly, grandmother eyes, as Butterfly would say. She had arms that reminded me of large rye breads and fingers that looked like fresh dough, one of which trapped a marriage ring in the folds between her knuckle and hand forever.

  The house, small but very pleasant and warm, was filled with the aroma of meat loaf and apple pie. She had one other guest, a salesman named Mr. Franklin.

  "I'm sure glad Todd told you to come over here. As usual I made too much for supper," she said.

  She showed us the room with two double beds. We had a bathroom to share with her other guest so she asked that we be considerate. Raven was happy because it meant she could get a hot shower and wash her hair, "before it falls out from the weight of the dirt. Maybe our breakdown was a lucky thing," she added.

  "Which is why I tell you to concentrate on the positive," Crystal said cheerily.

  "Mercy," Raven cried and hurried into the bathroom first.

  Toward the end of our dinner, Raven leaned over and whispered, "Maybe I should come along with you to the garage to be a chaperone. It's pretty obvious that Todd likes you."

  "No," I said, maybe too quickly. Her eyebrows lifted. "Todd and I don't have time to be friends. Our car has to be fixed tonight so we can leave early in the morning," I continued.

  She didn't look convinced and just shook her head slowly...."Well, don't say I didn't warn you."

  Crystal sensed the tension between us and came to the rescue. "I think we've all learned from your experience with Taylor, Raven. I'm sure Brooke will be careful." And with that she shot me a meaningful glare.

  Butterfly reached over and grabbed my arm. "I think 'Todd's awfully handsome, Brooke. Would you let him kiss you if he asked?"

  "Geez, will you all stop! I am not going on a date! I'm just going to help him fix our car," I cried, desperate to have them drop the subject. I couldn't hide the flames that lit up my cheeks and Crystal couldn't help but poke fun at me.

  "Hmm ." she said. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much!"

  As they sat there giggling at me I wondered,

  What if Raven was right? What if Todd really did like me? Would I let him kiss me as Butterfly had asked?

  With all these thoughts and questions swarming in my head I barely heard Todd's car as he pulled into the driveway of the bed and breakfast. My legs were trembling as I went out to meet him and, when I turned back toward the house, I saw Crystal's, Raven's and Butterfly's faces pressed against the window.

  They all looked so worried, as if they could see into my future. As if what they saw scared them.

  11 Make New Friends

  "So what's it like to be an orphan?" Todd asked as we drove to his dad's station.

  "Well, I never knew who my father was and I have no idea if I have any brothers or sisters."

  He nodded.

  "How about your mother? Did you know her?"

  "Not really. This ribbon," I said, showing him the ribbon tied around my wrist, "is the only thing I know came from her. She had tied it in my hair when she gave me up and someone had the sense to save it for me. It used to be bright red, but the color's badly faded," I added.

  We pulled into the garage and got out. He unlocked the door and raised it. It rattled on its runners and stopped. Then he flipped a switch and the neon lights blinked a few times before illuminating the inside of the garage where Gordon's wagon was parked. The hood was up. Todd went to his

  workbench and studied the water pump for a few moments.

  "How was your father?" I asked. He didn't look up to respond.

  "He was sleeping when I got there and was still sleeping when I left," he said. He plugged in a light and brought it over to the engine. I held it for him and he studied our broken water pump again before choosing his tools almost the way a surgeon would choose a scalpel.

  "I guess you've been working on cars all your life."

  "From the moment I could hold a wrench," he replied. "I don't think I was more than fourteen before Dad started to leave me in charge of this place. He'd go off and do something for someone, which was usually followed by a visit to the tavern. It was always supposed to be a quick cold beer, but it always turned out to be hours. The work would pile up. People would be furious about their cars not being done, and I had to make up stories.

  "You know what?" he said pausing and turning to look at me.

  "What?"

  "You and I aren't that much different. I had a father and a mother, but it was as if I didn't most of the time. I cooked for myself, took care of my own clothes and cleaned the house after my mother left. I even wrote my own excuses for school when I was absent," he added with a smile. "Being here all the time, I learned to forge Dad's signature real good. Now, people think of this place more as mine than Dad's. He doesn't care." He thought a moment as if he were deciding whether to say something else, and then he returned to his work.

  "I understand what you're saying," I told him, "but at least you didn't have to live in a state-run facility."

  "I guess you girls had it real bad in that home, bad enough to run off like this without any money, huh?"

  "We had some money," I said and told him about Sunshine. He listened and worked. Soon the broken water pump was out and he was fitting the used replacement into the engine.

  "The road's no place for you, Brooke. There's lots of stuff like that going on. I hope you find what you're looking for soon and settle down," he said.

  "Me too."

  He wiped his hands on a rag.

  "Want a cold drink? I've got some soda or even a beer, if you want that?"

  "I'll take a soda," I said. He went to the office and returned with two Cokes. We sat on a bench and looked at the station wagon.

  "So whose Buick is that?" he asked.

  I was silent.

  "It's not one of yours if you're all foster children, right?" he pursued with a gentle smile.

  "It belongs to the creature who runs the house with his wife," I replied.

  "Gordon Tooey?"

  "Yes. How did you know that?"

  "I looked at the registration in the glove compartment," he replied and drank from his Coke. "Serious business, stealing a car."

  "Now you can appreciate just how desperate we were," I said.

  "Yeah, but how's Gordon going to take it?" he asked with a wry smile.

  "Not well," I said. "Crystal's afraid he might be coming after us."

  "You guys really are on the run." He took another sip of his soda and looked at me. "You don't look like an outlaw," he kidded.

  We stared at each other for a long moment. As I measured him, he was measuring me in just about the same way, I thought. I wondered if I reminded him of someone. Neither of us seemed intimidated or embarrassed by the other's long gaze. It made me feel warm and comfortable rather than self- conscious now. I liked the way his eyes softened and moved ever so slightly as he washed them over me with care that suggested he wanted to commit me to memory forever and ever.

  He looked away, toward the door and the night sky.

  "Beautiful night," he said. "It's actually my favorite time of the year. Late spring here is warm but not yet so warm it's uncomfortable or too humid. I tend to take more time just staring at the stars or watching birds. I like it, but I also hate it."

  "Hate it? Why?" I asked quickly. "You sound almost poetic when you talk about it. Crystal would love to hear you."

  He laughed.

  "Poetic, huh? My old English teacher would topple over in hysterics if she heard you say that." "Why did you say you hate it?"

  "I don't know. I guess it's because I feel lonelier than I do other times of the year," he replied, putting his bottle down and returning to the car.

  I sat there watching him replace the broken hose, feeling my own heart palpitate in ways and rhythms I had n
ot felt before. I rose and stood beside him as he struggled with a rusted bolt.

  "Don't you have a girlfriend?" I blurted out, and then quickly wished I could take the words back. It was one of those questions you don't want to ask because you dread the answer, but a question you know you have to ask.

  "Did," he said. "We broke up about three months ago. She was rushing me into something I wasn't ready for," he added before I could ask why.

  He sprayed the bolt and worked it out much easier, holding it up as if he had extracted a gold nugget.

  "Ta-da!" he said. I smiled and he suddenly looked very serious. "You've got the cutest nose I've ever seen," he said. It was a compliment that seemed to fall out of the darkness, completely unexpected, stealing my breath for a moment. "I guess you've heard that before," he added, turning back to the engine.

  "No," I said softly. "Never."

  He looked over at me like he didn't believe me and then went back to work. I watched, but my heart was pounding so hard, I didn't think I could hold the lamp steady enough. He didn't seem to notice how much my hand shook. Finally, the used part was installed.

  "Time to test our work," he declared. "Go start the engine "

  I did so and he watched it run.

  "How's the gauge doing?"

  "It's back to normal," I said. "We'll have to wait and see though."

  "Why don't you let it run for a while," he suggested.

  After a few more minutes, he asked me again and I told him it was fine.

  "You girls lucked out," he concluded. "You can turn it off," he said and I did.

  He began to clean up.

  "So where do you think you'll end up?" he asked.

  "We want to go to Los Angeles. We hope we'll find an inexpensive place to live and find work. Crystal wants to get back to school and we want to find a dancing school for Butterfly," I told him.

  "Butterfly? The little one?" I nodded. "She seems so fragile, too fragile for this sort of thing."

  "You're right, but she's got us to protect and watch over her."

  "Is it enough?" he followed quickly. "Sorry," he said, "but I tend to be brutally realistic sometimes."

  "It's all right." I took a deep breath. "I don't know all the answers, Todd," I said. "I know that we hated where we were and what was happening to us. We felt trapped. We felt as if we were merchandise left on a shelf, merchandise no one would want to take home with them. Maybe we were crazy. Maybe we were just a bunch of stupid girls, but we took charge of our lives, even if it's only for a little while, and that felt good. When I first drove out of there . ."