The Runaway

The thin boy trudged along the dusty road. When he heard the car stop beside him, he glanced over. Great a sheriff’s car. When he heard the man’s voice. He knew it was over.

“You Loren Soames?”

The boy glanced at the car and then nodded his head. He hadn’t figured they would find him so soon.

“Been lookin’ for you.”

The boy didn’t look at him or say anything. The man hesitated, then wiped his brow.

“Mighty hot out today, ain’t it?”

The boy just stood there.

“Tell you what. I’d sure go for something cold to drink about now. How about you?”

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

The officer stepped out of his car and Loren braced himself for the handcuffs to slammed onto his wrists.

The man just stood there for a moment. “Hop in and we’ll go have a nice cold soda up at the Ben Franklin. How does that sound?”

The boy didn’t look up, just shrugged. So, the officer, led him around the front of the car and opened the passenger door.

“Come on, you can ride up front with me. Would you like that?”

Still the boy didn’t respond. Just slid into the car, keeping his head down. Once the man was back behind the wheel he tried again.

“I’m Officer Johnson with the county Sheriff’s office.” He held out a hand as if to shake hands with the boy. He got no response. So, he started the car and they drove in silence for the short distance to town.  When they parked out front of the little shop, the boy gave him a quick glance. The man smiled. Loren didn’t think this was the way it usually went when a cop caught a killer, but he guessed it didn’t really matter.

Inside, the man helped the boy up onto one of the tall vinyl covered stools and sat down beside him. When the woman behind the counter moved their way, she looked up at them both and raised her eyebrows.

“Tom?”

“Sarah.”

He turned to the boy. “How about a soda, Loren?” the heavy cop smiled down at the small freckled boy perched on the stool beside him.

The boy just nodded. He figured he might as well because he knew after that he was headed for jail. That’s what they did with bad people, like him.

“Good! Two soda’s, please Sarah.” Then he turned to the boy again.

 “So, Loren. I noticed the bundle you have. Where were you off to?”

The boy shrugged. It didn’t really matter now, did it? He wasn’t going anywhere but where the cop took him. Jail most likely. He’d be locked in a cell. Alone in a cell. Just him. He hadn’t really thought about it, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

As the drinks were set on the counter in front of them, the officer tried again. “Want to tell me why you were running off?”

The boy reached out and touched the cold glass in front of him. He figured the copy already knew, but it didn’t matter. He supposed he could tell, it wouldn’t change anything.

“I killed Jenny.”

“Jenny?”

“My sister.”

The man took a deep breath. “Sisters can sometimes be a pain. I know. I have two myself, but what happened with Jenny?”

“You have two sisters?” The boy scoffed. “I have six! There are 12 of us kids., so you are never alone. Someone is always there, talking when you want to be quiet, getting into your stuff, never leaving you alone.” His voice grew fierce.

“I was making a castle out in the mud. It was mine. Jenny came out and stomped on it. So, I took the jar full of mud and hit her on the head. She fell down. There was blood, a lot of blood. But she was quiet for once.  It was nice. I fixed up my castle, then went in to tell Mom. I figured with so many kids, what was one less. Maybe mom would even be glad, like I was.”

He took a quick sip of the soda in front of him, then sort of growled.

“Didn’t work though. Jenny came inside, all bloody and yelling. She was pointing at me so I guess even when she was dead, she wouldn’t leave me alone.  I figured her ghost was just going to haunt me. I thought I’d just leave. Jenny’s ghost could just stay there wailing and bleeding and I’d go somewhere else.”

He glanced quickly at the officer.

“Is mom mad at me?” The thin shoulders heaved, “Will I go to jail?”

The officer looked up at the ceiling briefly, then patted the boy’s shoulder.

“No, you won’t be going to jail. Jenny’s not dead. She got a few stitches, but she’ll be good as new in a day or two. She should be home by the time you get back. And no, you mom’s not mad. She was just worried about you. That’s why I was looking for you. Drink up and I’ll give you a ride home.”

The boy reached out and picked up the glass on the counter. Without looking at the man he asked, “I’m not going to jail for hitting her?”

The officer smiled over at the boy. “No, your mom just wants you home safe and sound. She was worried about you. You’re kinda small to be off on your own. Even with 12 kids, I promise, moms have enough room in their hearts for everyone.”

The boy sat there for moment, then tightened his lips. Without raising his head, he directed another question to the officer.

“If Jenny was dead would I go to jail?”

The officer smiled, “But she’s not dead, so don’t worry. You won’t be going to jail. I promise. You’ll see, when you get home everything will be just fine. Just like it was before.”

The boy pinched the straw in his soda and muttered, “Just as it was before. Huh, maybe jail would be better than going home.”