the great fuck?
I can’t leave her my address. I don’t have a phone number.
I can’t tell her to come and find me in Chicago.
With shaking hands, I write a single word on the paper and then place it in the center of the bed.
SORRY
I take a step back, and a glint of silver catches my eye.
There is a quarter lying next to the pillow.
Reaching over slowly, I pick it up in my hand and hold it tightly, transferring the heat of my palm into the metal. My throat constricts, and I swallow past the lump before I open my fingers and let the coin drop next to the piece of paper.
Turning quickly, I grab a couple bottles of water for the road and head back out to the truck. I spend a moment dismantling the wires attached to the battery and rolling the wire up into a tight, round loop. I bend down to pick up the dog dish and a bag of kibble, throw them and the duffle into the back of the truck, and whistle. Odin appears from around the house, races towards me , and a few minutes later we are heading down the road.
As I steer the truck down the drive, it feels like someone reaches through my back and grab s hold of my heart, ripping it through my body and yanking it back to that tiny, hot little house. I keep swallowing, but it doesn’t stop the burn in my throat.
Odin whines and noses at my arm. I look over at him and wonder what he sees when he looks at me. He noses my arm again, then licks my hand where it grips the steering wheel.
“ Thanks, buddy,” I say in monotone .
He whines again.
“I can’t do that,” I say softly. “I can’t do that to her.”
With my eyes staring toward the spanning horizon, I push thoughts of her from my mind, burying her memory in the darkest recesses of my brain. I wish I could have explained it to her – told her it was for her own good, but there was no way. Anything I said would either be a lie or too dangerous for her to know.
So I drive off.
Odin at my side.
But otherwise alone.
I can’t leave her my address. I don’t have a phone number.
I can’t tell her to come and find me in Chicago.
With shaking hands, I write a single word on the paper and then place it in the center of the bed.
SORRY
I take a step back, and a glint of silver catches my eye.
There is a quarter lying next to the pillow.
Reaching over slowly, I pick it up in my hand and hold it tightly, transferring the heat of my palm into the metal. My throat constricts, and I swallow past the lump before I open my fingers and let the coin drop next to the piece of paper.
Turning quickly, I grab a couple bottles of water for the road and head back out to the truck. I spend a moment dismantling the wires attached to the battery and rolling the wire up into a tight, round loop. I bend down to pick up the dog dish and a bag of kibble, throw them and the duffle into the back of the truck, and whistle. Odin appears from around the house, races towards me , and a few minutes later we are heading down the road.
As I steer the truck down the drive, it feels like someone reaches through my back and grab s hold of my heart, ripping it through my body and yanking it back to that tiny, hot little house. I keep swallowing, but it doesn’t stop the burn in my throat.
Odin whines and noses at my arm. I look over at him and wonder what he sees when he looks at me. He noses my arm again, then licks my hand where it grips the steering wheel.
“ Thanks, buddy,” I say in monotone .
He whines again.
“I can’t do that,” I say softly. “I can’t do that to her.”
With my eyes staring toward the spanning horizon, I push thoughts of her from my mind, burying her memory in the darkest recesses of my brain. I wish I could have explained it to her – told her it was for her own good, but there was no way. Anything I said would either be a lie or too dangerous for her to know.
So I drive off.
Odin at my side.
But otherwise alone.
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