When would she be able to see Jada again? They’d been
roommates forever. She wouldn’t miss her job at the Turnstile. She
was tired of dealing with rowdy club-goers and loud music, and
patrons like her ex. I’ve acquired the lifestyle I grew up despising.
Now she’d be forced to wander, just like her father had his
entire life, never owning anything or putting down roots. “I don’t like
things that hold me down,” had been her father’s famous words. Her
mind scrambled back to Johnny and the reaction her absence would
create.
You couldn’t just dump Johnny and stay in town. Fern had
learned that the hard way. It would never work and hadn’t worked the
numerous times Fern had tried to terminate the relationship.
Johnny would stalk and nag, tormenting her, feeding his guilt
to her like a spoiled meal until she caved, unable to swallow another
rotten mouthful. No. This time she’d have to leave and disappear,
covering her tracks like windblown snow on a sidewalk. Panic
wormed through her. What kind of crap would Jada have to deal with
when Johnny came around looking for her?
“He’s eventually gonna show up here,” Fern told her.
Jada’s dark-brown eyes narrowed. “I know how to deal with
him. Don’t worry about me.”
Jada sat down on her bed, releasing a hissing breath that blew
the bleached-blond strands of hair out of her eyes, her brows
furrowing.
“Where you gonna go?” she asked, her tone now hesitant,
laced with a fear Fern didn’t want to feel.
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Fern told her, yanking open
drawers, stuffing her knapsack.
“Fuck! I hate that son-of-a-bitch.”
“Yeah, he’s got a habit of provoking that in people.” Fern took
one more glance around the tiny studio apartment. There was stuff
she’d have to leave behind, for now. Jada met her thoughts.
“Maybe when you land and get settled, I can bring you the rest
of your things,” Jada said, eyeing her small stereo, books, and CDs.
Fern sat down next to her, resting her hand on Jada’s thigh.
“Yeah.” She sighed, exhausted already. “I’ll call...” More
words formed on her tongue, words better left unsaid.
****
The traffic had picked up, the late-day rush hour kicking in.
Fern hiked toward the Wawa, thinking she’d get her last mocha latte.
The whine of the train whistle caught her attention. Fern ran across
the highway and bolted into the thickets, having missed the last bus
out.
Colorful cars moved slowly behind the tall brush. She climbed
up the steep bank, watching as the train clanked over the rails. It
moved at a speed that was doable, enabling the crazed thought that
was forming in her mind to take shape.
Fern sidestepped down the embankment, waiting. With the last
car in sight, Fern gripped the hot paper cup, seeing the hot beverage
slosh inside.
The oily smell of creosote burned her nose. Fern took two
cautious sips, realizing she needed to toss her last indulgence into the
weeds until she got to wherever she was going.
Fern threw the cup into the brush. As the last car rattled past,
Fern stepped in behind it and started jogging, pacing her steps,
watching the tarry pebbles and ashen dirt below pass beneath her feet.
With the width of two feet, her adrenaline got the best of her. She
hurled her knapsack into the car and quickened her pace, her decision
made.
She gasped. Fern dragged in a rush of polluted smog and took
that leap, a leap away from Johnny that would buy her more distance,
and a leap into a new life that was frightening as hell, holding all the
fears of the unknown.