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running (redux)

“You’ll see...things will be better in Florida.”

Packing us all into the old Ford and hitting the road was the plan of the day. Running was always the way of dealing with things and this was a run for the gold.

“I’m gonna miss him. He took care of us and now we’re on our own. But don’t worry, I’ll find another man who will love us.”

She couldn’t understand the concept of being worth something. Men and women, in her mind anyway, each had their roles to play. The men took care of the women, and in return the women did whatever they had to do. She would start a business in Florida which would feed us all until she found the new Mr. Right. It all meant nothing but a temporary belief in herself. She could start a business but if she had to do it on her own, it would have to be temporary. How could it be otherwise?

“Can we stop? I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Soon, dear, soon.”

The long road flies by us as rain hits the hood of the old Ford. What could we do but go along with this plan? One day we’ll grow up and do our own running. One day we’ll grow up and regress just like she has.

“Why do people die Mom?”

“They just do honey, they just do.”

We finally stop and for a moment, I think of running away. They won’t miss me - I’m not worth anything to them anyway. It’s a circular thing. I go to the bathroom and return to the car knowing that I have nowhere else to go. An eleven year old goes where he’s taken.

“You’ll see, kids, it’ll all work out in Florida.”


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