Greece or Bust

That was it. That was the last straw. I don’t have to take this from anyone! She clearly doesn’t understand, nor will she ever if she hasn’t figured it out by now. The anger was pulsing through every part of my body, from my toes to my fingertips, and I felt the steam leaving the hair on top of my head.  

I had seen the pictures on the wall at the town pizza parlor, with the white roof tops and crystal-blue ocean down the mountain side, and I always dreamt of running away to this place. While waiting for my small cheese pizza to bake, I’d often imagine myself sitting on the verandas that overlooked the harbor below, filled with cruise ships and sailboats, their crisp white sails blinding in the Grecian sun. Oh what I wouldn’t give to go to such a place where no one could tell me what to do, wear, watch, or even eat.  

I decided today was the day. I would leave in secret while she worked from her office upstairs. I knew she wouldn’t be down until mid afternoon for her scheduled snack like clockwork. She’d assume, judgmentally, I would be lounging on the couch, avoiding the list of tasks she had handed to me this morning; another way she attempted to keep complete control of me. The work I did was never enough, even on weekends she insisted I get outside and find more to do. Well tonight I’d be on a plane to Europe with an umbrella drink waiting for me in the moonlit hotel room overlooking the Mykonos shores. I would order any and all that I wanted from the menu with no one to stop me, or argue that it would upset my sensitive stomach. She was always sucking the fun from every venture and every outing since the day we met. In her eyes, danger lurked from every corner, whether it was the bacteria on the stairwells, the nagging over sugar intake, or the television rotting my brain, nowhere was safe enough to breathe and relax. Tonight I would walk through a threshold with my shoes on just to spite her. There would be no untying at the door and pause for removal in fear of what God-awful things I would track through our space on the soles of my sneakers. Tonight, I may even sleep with my sneakers on.  

I had been collecting cash in an old coat in my closet where I knew she would never find it. I wasn’t sure how much it would cost to stay in Greece, but I knew, at the very least, I must have enough to get myself there, and I would do whatever it took to stay there once I arrived. My immediate problem now was that the coat was upstairs, and I was going to have to walk past her office to get to it. I knew she was too nosey to allow me just to pass by. I had to be ready to answer the questions in rapid fire without a hint of anything suspicious.  

My heart was beating out of my chest as I climbed the stairs. Obviously this was her house, so only my germ-free clean socks were on my feet, which awarded me some sound-proofing, but the house was built a hundred years prior, so the wood beneath my quiet socks, unfortunately gave away my haste and direction. I decided a swift climb, not too intense and yet, not so slow that it sounded like a sneak, would be my best option. With each and every creek I felt my armpits tingle in a sweat-producing panic. Three, two, one, to the top I arrived and let out a sigh of relief as I turned to walk past her office door. I made it to my room and closed my door with a smile. I couldn’t hide the excitement that was bursting from within me.  I’m really going to do it this time!

“Jake?”

My heart stopped. Don’t pause, answer her! She’ll suspect something if you pause.  Everything is fine. Everything is normal.

“Yea?”

“You need something?”

My eyes rolled, can’t a guy just go up a flight of stairs in peace?

“No, I was just looking for.. a coat to take the trash out, it's colder than I thought.”

“Something wrong with the coat hanging on the hall tree by the door?”

(Think fast, dammit Jake!)

“Yea, it.. smelled bad..” What the hell was that? It SMELLED bad? Are you looking for a TSA pat-down from the woman to search for the origins of your smelliest parts and pieces. You’re cruisin for a Saturday afternoon shower order is what you’re doing!  

“Well put it in the hamper and I’ll wash it later.  Did you get dressed? I laid your clothes out on the bed, did you see them?”

That was the gas I needed, thrown on my desire to get the hell out of this prison. In Greece, I’d wear what I want, I’d wash what I want, and I’d go where I want.  

“Yea, I got it.”

Nothing but silence in response. Her brain had moved on and left me free to do the same. I opened my closet door and felt the wad of cash with my hands. I gripped it tight and the excitement again began to build, freedom lay in the palm of my hands. I stuffed it into my back jeans pocket, and surveyed my closet. Above my jackets and assorted candy-stripe suits she’d picked out, on the top shelf, was an old suitcase my grandfather had given me long ago for a past birthday. I grabbed the handle, and pulled it down in a cloud of dust. It wasn’t very big, but I wouldn’t need much I thought, to start this new life. It was covered in yellowed MAD magazine and Ohio State stickers. I unlocked each side and lifted the top and was immediately hit with a wall of mildew and moth ball stench that almost made me cough, but I choked down the impulse, she’d only run in and ask what was the matter if I let out any sign of sickness. I grabbed only the basics, a couple tee shirts, a couple shorts, underwear, some socks, and my favorite sweatshirt with the sailing flags embroidered on the arm sleeves. Whatever I couldn’t bring, I’d buy there I thought. I just have to get there. 

I closed and locked the suitcase, and picked it up in my right hand. It was heavier than I expected. I felt for the lump of cash in my back pocket with my left hand and nodded to myself in assurance. This is it, no turning back now. I opened the door and saw the open office door down the hall. I heard her muffled talking and couldn’t believe my luck. She was on a call! I could zip down the stairs without a care in the world, and that I did. I may have gotten a little too cocky when I jumped from the third step and heard the dreaded, “Hang on for just a second, Jake?!” 

I quickly placed the suitcase on the other side of the hallway wall, and my heart rate went from sixty to two-hundred within a millisecond’s time. I could feel my pulse within my blazing red ears. I had to get out of here before a heart attack took me before an airplane could. 

“Yes?” I yelled back, attempting to sound as cool and collected as possible.

“Can you not jump down the entire flight of stairs? I’m on the phone and you scared the bejesus out of me!”

“Sorry,” I muttered back. I knew I was letting my excitement get the best of me. I would have to be more careful if I was going to finally make this journey. 

From the corner of my eye I saw beside the couch the iPad that had so often been a point of contention between her and I. This would be my final act of independence, I grabbed it and tucked it under my arm and grabbed my suitcase and bolted out the front door. I walked down the front walkway, with the sun on my face on the warmest June afternoon we’d had yet, as it was nearly July. I rounded the corner of the end of our walkway where it met the cracked and uneven sidewalk. I tripped on a raised chunk of asphalt as I stared up at her office window.  I knew her desk was set far away from the open window, but my fear was she was somewhere just beyond my sight, watching as I swiftly made my way down our suburban road to catch the city bus to a better life. 

I passed our trash bucket beside our driveway that I was given orders to fill that very morning.  

“So long, trash bucket.” I whispered with a smile. “So long, driveway I’ll never have to shovel again. So long grass I’ll never have to cut again. So long Mr. Hastings, always complaining, Mr. Hastings, Mr. Hastings!”

Our nosey neighbor was bringing his own trash out for collection.

“Hey, Jake, what are you up to this afternoon, headed somewhere special?” He asked while nodding towards my suitcase. 

“Oh this? This, no, I was, taking this to the uhh, dump, the town dump. I had tried to toss it last week and the garbage man said they couldn’t take it so, ya know, they get so picky about what you can throw in those darn receptacles.”

“You’re walking to the town dump?”

“Yea, well ya know, it’s such a nice day, I figured, may as well get my steps in, ya know?”

“I was headed that way in a minute, you sure you don’t want a ride?”

“No!” I gasped. “No, no,” I attempted a calmer tone.  “I uhh, truly, I just wanted some fresh air.” 

There, now that wasn’t technically a lie.  

Mr. Hastings gave me a long stare down before he stepped to the side of his sidewalk and adjusted his own garbage receptacle.  

“All right well, be careful I guess?” He said, and waved me on to proceed. 

“Yea, you bet,” I replied begrudgingly. Again with the third-degree, I thought. 

I got to the bus stop and checked my iPad for the time. It was three-thirty in the afternoon and hotter than hell in the blazing sun. The next bus wouldn’t arrive for another hour.  I looked across the street at a park, where there were some scattered trees that offered some shade that the bench beside the bus sign did not. So, I decided to cross the street and find some relief from the heat. I looked left and then right. A car stopped to my right to allow me to cross. An older woman with white hair was driving the car. She waved me across, and so I started to run as a way to thank her for her generosity in stopping. I paused for a second midway, as I saw a truck approaching from the left.  The driver of the pickup stopped briskly, letting out a whimper of a tire screech upon seeing me. I waved in gratitude to his annoyed face, and picked my pace up to a run when I heard his horn let out a bellowing honk that shook my brain inside of my skull. Within an instant, I saw the reason for the horn was not that of anger, but of warning, as a car who couldn’t see the purpose of stopping, had hastily made its way around the truck and was headed straight for me. It rammed my gut, and I fell backwards into the street. I stared at the sky and wondered again if my dreams of a Grecian sunrise tomorrow had just left my body with my soul. The truck driver hovered above me.  

“Hey, buddy, are you all right?”

“Yea, I’m fine, totally fine.” I said slowly trying to stand.

“We should call the police, or an ambulance, get you checked out.” He said.

The girl who had hit me was standing beside her car with eyes like silver dollars.  She looked to be about seventeen, and I gathered this may not have been her first accident, but probably her first time hitting a human being. 

“What? We don’t need to call the police! He’s fine! He said he’s fine. I’m late for work! If he wasn’t fine he wouldn’t be standing, he’s fine, I gotta go!” She pleaded. 

I realized as much as she ticked me off, I knew if we involved authorities, I wouldn’t make the bus let alone a plane ride. I walked up the street a bit and picked up my suitcase, which had flown off to the curb about ten feet away. My iPad was another three feet aside of that, and I lifted it up to see the screen had cracked down the middle. I held up the suitcase to the truck driver and said I too, had places to be. I could tell he was appalled that I wasn't going to seek damages. Then I looked over to see that the old woman on the right side of the road was already on the phone. I panicked and realized the authorities may have already been called. I began to run. I heard the man calling me and demanding I get back there, but my feet just wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t believe I had left my house and already in the course of an hour, I was being told what to do. I ran across the park as fast as I could until I came to a stone wall that bordered some farmland property. I climbed it and ran what felt like miles until I came to another stone wall. I hopped that, and sat down with my back to the wall. I was sweating and dying of thirst. I couldn’t go back to the same bus stop. I looked around, I hadn’t a clue where I ended up, or how I could find another bus stop.  

I clicked my iPad on to see the time. It was 4:15 and my stomach grumbled. I looked at the picture on the screen of her and I. The crack had gone down the middle of the photo and it made a line between us. I thought of her coming downstairs for her afternoon snack and realizing I had left without telling her. I thought, if that car had run me down, the questions she’d be left with. I thought of all the times she’d ordered me around, and was it ever a time she didn’t have my best interest at heart? I stood up and shook the dead grass off my bottom. I felt the lump of cash in my back pocket, and then I felt a lump in my throat. I thought of how much she’d love Greece. I thought of how much I loved her.  

I followed the wall between the fields until I reached a road I didn’t recognize. A couple hundred feet up was a sign for Route 31. I knew if I could make it to Route 31, I could make it home. I started to walk in that direction when a car appeared on the horizon. The waves of heat rising from the hood were blurring the sight of it but I was fairly certain it was ours. I was even more certain when it’s blinker came on, and it pulled over just ahead of me and the door flung open. She jumped out and nearly forgot to put the car in park, and then leaned back in to quickly do so. I braced for the lashing of my life. I closed my eyes in a scrunch and took a deep breath. I was shocked to feel her arms surround me and scoop me up off the ground. 

“Jake! Jacob! Are you all right? Are you okay? Let me look at you!”

She held me by both arms and pushed my body out in front of her and looked me up and down at least nine times. She finally noticed the suitcase.

“Jake, were you leaving me?”

I started to cry. The shame I felt was unbearable. I wrapped my arms around her waist and buried my head into her belly.

“Yea mom, I’m not a baby any more! And you can’t keep treating me like I am.” 

“Jake, you’re ten.”

“Yea, well you’re always yelling at me. Nothing I ever do is good enough, I’m never good enough.”

“Jake, you’re perfect. In a whole lot of trouble, but perfect. Where were you headed?” She asked. 

“Greece.”

“Greece?” She laughed. “Why Greece?” 

“I saw the pictures at Apollo Pizza, thought it looked nice.”

“And how were you going to pay for a trip to Greece?”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my secret stack of cash, and handed it to her.

“Where’d you get all this?” She asked. 

“Tooth fairy, mowing Mr. Hastings lawn.”

“Well Jake, I’m sorry to tell you, seventeen dollars wouldn’t have got you out of Ohio.”

“Man!” I replied in defeat, and then got an idea. “Can it buy you dinner?”

We drove to Apollo Pizza with my suitcase in the trunk.  We dined under photos of Mykonos together, and I talked of how I’d bring her there some day. Dinner cost $19.32, and mom made up the extra.  I asked her how she figured out I was gone? She said she knew something was up when I was looking for a coat on a ninety degree day, and then Mr. Hastings called. We got home and walked through the front door. 

“I love you mom.”

“I love you too Jake, but Jake?”

“Yea?”

“Take your shoes off at the door.” 

I smiled and bent down to untie them.  

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