The Wish

A person can only run so long, before they can’t run anymore, before whatever you’re running from catches up to you. Adam realized this as he pulled into a diner off a side road. It was a small place, and in the middle of nowhere, but that’s what Adam wanted: someplace he wouldn’t be found. He was eighteen, legally he could leave, but he knew his parents, his stepdad especially, would be looking for him. Along with his girlfriend Page unless she hated him. Whatever she felt toward him…

He deserved it.

Adam got out of his black 1967 Chevy Impala and walked into the diner. Even though it was late afternoon, it was open. There was a curvy blond behind the bar, a couple bikers playing pool, and an old man sitting alone in a booth in the corner. Adam sat at one table away from where the old man was.

“What can I get ‘cha sweetie?” the blond bartender asked. She had a deep southern accent and she kept popping gum.

“Nothing,” Adam replied shortly.

“That yours?” the old man asked. He was wearing a black suit, brand new, which looked odd on him because of his wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, what?” Adam asked back.

“That ’67 Chevy Impala. It yours?”

“Yep.”

“She’s a beauty,” the old man said with a sigh.

“The only one in my life right now,” Adam muttered.

The old man let out a loud, bellowing laugh.

Adam just swallowed hard.

“I take it that’s what you’re doing all the way out here, then?”

“Yep. I’m not ready,” Adam murmured out of nowhere. 

“Not ready for what? Change? Change is all around us; in the weather, in our work, in our relationships.” The old man paused, and seeing Adam’s expression, nodded his head. “Ah… It’s a relationship thing then.”

Adam nodded. “My, uh—My girlfriend is pregnant,” Adam said at last. He didn’t know why he said it; the words just seemed to vomit out of him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about saying it out loud. It made the whole situation finally seem real.

He didn’t want it to be.

“I broke it off. I—I can’t be a dad. My grades suck, I got no future, nothing to provide for her, much less a kid too. I can’t do it. I can’t face my family either.” Adam sighed again. Was that the real reason, or was there more to it? Maybe Adam just didn’t want to admit the truth; that he was terrified of becoming a father, of failing the kid, or maybe he wasn’t really ready for the responsibility yet.

“So, you’re leaving them? Not just your girlfriend, but everyone?” the old man asked him.

“I got no reason to stay.” Page was every reason to stay and so was the baby, but Adam had to run so he didn’t have to face his real problem; the cruel abuse that he’d locked inside a place where he could pretend as if it had never happened. But having a child of his own would force him to deal with his anger issues, to face the true fear he felt raging inside him…

That he would become his father.

The old man nodded. “I know the feeling. Runnin’…. Well, it’s an easy escape. Been there, done that, kid.”

“I know that’s right. I just—I wish she’d never gotten pregnant. That the baby never existed.” Adam couldn’t believe he said the words out loud, but they were true.

“But there comes a time when you can’t just run anymore, kid. Remember, you can run, but she can’t. Let me ask you this: do you love her?”

Adam didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m leaving. I can’t do any good for her… or that kid.” But that wasn’t the whole truth. He was leaving because he was afraid he would hurt her, afraid that he would become abusive just like his father, afraid to face what his father had done to him.

When the old man started his reply, he was cut off by loud ringing. Adam glanced at his phone and, seeing that it was his best friend, answered.

“Adam!” Bran’s voice was frantic; something was wrong.

“What happened?”

“It’s Page. She—I was trying to talk her out of going to an abortion clinic—“

Adam cut his friend off. “Abortion clinic?”

“Yeah. I drove after her, and she was really upset and didn’t see the truck come across. I saw the whole thing, Adam. I’m outside now waiting for them to try and cut her out, but—it’s…. not lookin’ good, man.” Bran’s voice cracked.

Adam’s chest tightened so hard he couldn’t breathe and his stomach churned. “I’m on my way back. What highway?”

“Highway 65, only five miles out of town,” came the reply.

Adam didn’t hesitate. He hung up and flew out of the diner as fast as he could. It only took him half an hour to get there, but it felt like an eternity. As soon as Adam got out of the Impala, his heart sank. The all-too-familiar ’05 Suzuki Reno was completely demolished. There were several ambulances and police cars, their lights flashing brightly. People bustled all around the car and even though the sound of the equipment they were using reverberated across the highway, Adam couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything at all except the sound of his own heart beating. Bran ran up and said something to him, but the words didn’t register with Adam at all. Nothing did; nothing except Page and…

It was his fault. If he hadn’t run, this wouldn’t have happened to Page. If he lost her… or the baby or both… he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He raked his hands through his hair and tried to fight back tears in his eyes. He ran forward and felt several hands grab him. He didn’t register them trying to comfort and soothe him.

Hours later, he was in the hospital, waiting for word from the doctor. He clenched his jaw and fists and kept them that way.

“Adam. The doc’s here,” his friend said.

Adam swallowed hard and stood, facing the doctor.

“We’ve done everything we can. She’s sustained severe head trauma and has a concussion, with a broken knee and some broken ribs, but she will live. However, it appears she lost the baby. We did an ultrasound to make sure. I’m… so sorry.”

Adam’s knees collapsed out from under him. He was a coward and had run away. He didn’t want a baby, and now he didn’t have one.

It was his fault. Why did he run? Why didn’t he enjoy the gift he’d been given? He thought if he didn’t have a baby to worry about, everything would be fine.

But it wasn’t. Nothing would be fine. How could Page ever face him again, when he couldn’t even face himself? He hated himself for his stupidity, his cowardice.

He had gotten exactly what he’d wished for.