We’re standing around the outside of the hospital when Ali starts looking around frantically. The weather is perfect. The sun shines down on my light skin instantly warming me up to the freedom I’ve recently created for myself. The lawn is perfectly manicured and the wind smells like the grass may have recently been cut. I love that smell. There’s a butterfly floating on the breeze toward the pretty purple flowers near the hospital’s entrance. I wonder what kind of flowers those might be.
“Do you see the truck?” Ali asks me, interrupting my thoughts about the weather and surrounding flora.
“What truck?” I ask her as calmly as possible. I know what she’s talking about. She’s talking about the SUV that tried to kill us the night before. I just don’t want to think about it at all. This is me trying to miraculously erase everything from my mind, and hopefully hers.
“The big, black SUV from yesterday!” She punches me hard in the upper arm and then instantly regrets it. She holds her arms to her mangled rib cage. The gauze from the bandages sticks out through the holes in her shirt. Obviously my ploy to sidetrack that conversation didn’t work.
“Oh, that one! No. I haven’t seen it at all. We need to get out of here before he does show up, though.” How many hospitals could there really be in this area? It wouldn’t be too difficult for the guy to find us at this particular one if he really wanted to.
I laugh as she retracts from the pain of the punch. I think, “Silly girl, why would you do that to yourself?” That leads me to begin another thought process. “Silly me-- why would I do any of this to either of us?”
“No shit,” she says to me as we start walking towards a white taxi that has been waiting for us to pile in. “Can you take us to the bus station?” she asks the cab driver.
The cabby guy smells like he may have not taken a shower in a few days. He looks like he’s never taken a shower in his life. His oily, black hair looks matted with grease. He’s missing a few hairs on the top of his head. Why do men grow their hair out when the top starts balding? That is a phenomenon I will never fully comprehend. This dude’s t-shirt is stained with what I hope is mustard from a hot dog or something. Is he even wearing any shoes? I do not dare to investigate any further.
“No bus station. Train station, okay?” he says loudly in return. I think there’s something in his mouth, too. He spits while he talks. That kind of drives me nuts. I want to yell at him and tell him that we’re not deaf and to finish chewing before speaking. What ever happened to manners?
“That’s perfect,” Ali says looking at me with questioning eyes. I think she’s waiting for me to say something about the train. I don’t think either of us has ever been on a train before. I honestly didn’t even know they still had passenger trains in the United States these days. Is it anything like a subway or a monorail? I guess I’ll be finding out.
“You seem to know what you’re doing. What’s the plan?” I ask casually like nothing out of the ordinary has ever happened. We’re just two normal girls out for a fun-filled adventure.
“We don’t have a car, so I think the only option we have at this point in making our escape is a bus or train. We don’t have the time or money to fly anywhere.”
“I think we may have the money to fly, if that’s an option. I’m not sure how time really plays into it,” I say hesitantly. She’s looking at me like I may have lost my mind. “I think we may be too close for comfort. We need to get somewhere very quickly. A plane would be the quickest way to get out.”
“You don’t think that anyone would be looking for us at the airport?” she asks me, her tone is a little sarcastic. She has the tendency to get cranky when she’s tired, hungry or in pain. I want to tell her what I really think. I really think that somebody is going to be looking for us no matter where we go. I don’t dare say that out loud, though. Sometimes it’s just better to keep my big mouth shut.
“Good point. Train it is.” I’d rather not fight with her on this. The cabby whisks us away to the train station, blaring music I cannot seem to make my mind comprehend. The bass is so loud I can feel it in my chest. I’ll be honest. I’ve never understood why people actually enjoy this rap music. Are the lyrics even in English?
“Listen, Val,” Ali starts. “I know things are tough and I’m sorry for getting snippy. I’m just really frustrated.” At least she can be honest about it. Now I don’t feel so bad for thinking those things about her being bitchy.
“I know. Everything is okay. We’ll make it through this. Remember, we’re together. That’s all that matters anymore,” I say as confidently and smoothly as possible.
She grabs my hand and lays her head on my shoulder. I know she doesn’t believe me. How could she after all of this has taken place? I gently kiss the top of her head. “I love you, Ali,” I tell her, quietly whispering the words in her ear. I’ve been dying for the moment where I could say those three words out loud.
She doesn’t respond. The silence is toxic to my already stunned mind and drained emotions. I should have known not to have said anything. I should have just let it go. I’m always the one to ruin something good with something so stupid. Why can’t I ever seem to keep my freaking mouth sealed? My heart rises into a lump in my throat and my stomach churns in distress.
I collapse in on myself as she snuggles her nose deep into my neck. I knew this was going to be a crazy spree given our sudden run. I feel like I actually thought I knew what I was getting us into. But, this is so much worse than what I originally expected. Everything seems to be falling apart right in front of our eyes. The worst part is that it’s all of my own doing. If there is a God in the sky, he or she should consider helping us out right now. We could really use any support.
CHAPTER 10
The Train Station Platform