1963--Travel

If you have luggage, you're neatly dressed, and you look like you know where you're going, people pretty much leave you alone. Naresha thought this as she climbed down off the Greyhound bus. She went and picked up her suitcase, then strode purposefully to the little coffee shop on the other side of the terminal.

There were several newspaper machines just outside the entrance, and she stopped to consider them. In Bristol they had boarded a bus that went back the way they had come. In fact, if made a stop in their home town. This was a calculated risk. After some discussion, it was decided everyone would frantically be looking in every direction, but not around town. They waited on the bus while luggage was unloaded, then different luggage loaded, tanks were filled, and new passengers filed on board. Then they left again, this time in the opposite direction of their first escape. They grew more relaxed with each mile that separated them from The Hell Hole.

Acacia had wanted to go to the coast. "Which coast?" Naresha had asked archly.

Acacia shrugged. "Hell, I don't care. I just want to see an ocean." They'd grown up landlocked. Oh there were beaches of a sort at various lakes, but it just wasn't the same.

"Later. In a couple of months, okay? Beaches are a magnet for runaways. They'll be looking there, if the reports reach that far."

"You sure there's gonna be a report filed, Naresha?"

Naresha frowned at Acacia as the bus jounced along. They both ignored the few passengers who gave them strange looks. They had no idea that the others were wondering about the pretty, dark haired girl muttering to herself. "Well, of course they'll report it."

"I'm not so sure. The Bitch is gonna know what was happening. And the state we left him in... People are going to talk, if he accuses us. I mean, yeah, they know I'm psychotic..." She stated this casually, as if it was merely another character trait, one that didn't deserve much consideration. "but it's considered a scandal to be a fucking victim with those people. He won't want anyone else to know. I'll lay you odds that he'll get treated privately, and pay the doctor to keep his mouth shut. Like he did when we started going for gynecological exams."

Naresha frowned. "I can see your point, but how can he explain our absence? People will talk."

"Yeah. But not much if he tells them he shipped us off to a boarding school for 'difficult' girls."

"Oo. That's a perfectly insidious idea. What gave it to you?"

"The Bitch had brochures. She was trying to convince him to ship us off. The place sounded like a combination prison, asylum, military camp, and convent."

"Ick. Probably grey walls, grey bars, grey clothes, and grey food till we were eighteen."

"Yeah. The Bastard never would have let us out of his hands that long, though. Maggie was barking up the wrong tree, but having that material to flash around would make a convincing explanation about why we weren't around."

"Then you think we're rid of him?"

"Oh, I didn't say that. I think The Bastard will drop a wad on private eyes trying to locate us and drag us back. Then he'll probably kill us. Maybe unintentionally, but the effect will be the same." Again her tone was casual, as if she were discussing the likelihood of being grounded for staying out past curfew.

So Naresha had given in, and they were now on the coast of Maine. They figured that was far enough away from the typical 'runaway teen dream' for them to be relatively safe.

In the coffee shop, Naresha ordered black coffee for herself, and a glass of chocolate milk for Acacia. After a little badgering, she added a slice of chocolate cake. The waitress kept glancing at her nervously as she took the order. All the fruitcakes who wander off the busses. Usually they gotta be old women before they start talkin' to themselves. This one got an early start.

As long as the girl wasn't making any trouble, though, she didn't see any reason to bother about it. And when she brought the cake back, the girl had treated her to an absolutely brilliant smile, and a wink. She didn't look so odd, then, and the waitress smiled in return.

As their server walked away, Acacia appreciatively followed the sway of her hips in her tight little uniform. Naresha, noting her sister's interest, murmured, "No, Acacia."

"Why not? She smiled at me."

"For heaven's sake, we haven't even got a room. Don't go trying to pick up the locals right away. It will draw too much attention."

"Party pooper. Can't we just stay in a motel for awhile? We have plenty of cash."

"And it will run through our fingers like water if we don't conserve it. I don't know about you, but I have an aversion to digging through trash cans for meals and sleeping rough. We'll probably have to end up doing that a time or two before we get settled, but I'm in no hurry. No, we have to find a place to board."

"Why not an apartment?"

"Because they want leases and documentation. Then there are utilities, security deposits, things like that. This is a resort area, and there will be a lot of rooming houses in the neighborhood. Since it's not the peak season, there should be plenty of space available. Also since it's the off season, they might not be too picky about checking IDs and references. A little hard cash covers a multitude of sins."

"We can both testify to that, can't we?"

Naresha sipped her coffee, and said, "One other thing, Acacia, and I hope you don't take this the wrong way, mostly because you have a tendency to kick ass when you're upset."

"What?" Acacia was short. She had a feeling she wasn't going to like what Naresha was about to say.

"We're going to have to face the fact that the rest of the world is blind and either can't, or won't, see both of us. And we're going to have to do something about it."

"Like what? Buy 'em all specs?"

"I think it would be better if we didn't talk to each other out loud when we're in public." Acacia scowled. "Now, don't be upset. You know very well that we can communicate with each other in non-verbal ways."

"Yeah, but I like talking. I hate the idea of having to curb myself just because the rest of the world is so fucking unobservant."

"Much as I agree, this is a matter of survival, dear. They can't see both of us at the same time. We speak, we look like we're talking to our self. We get thrown in the booby hatch. And if they send out a wire to look for missing persons, maybe The Bastard finds us."

"Yeah, right, okay." Acacia sighed. "As far away as we are, and The Bastard is still controlling us."

They started to look through the ads for a place to stay. There were a lot of places available, as Naresha had said. Problem was, Naresha looked just a little too sophisticated to be safe, and Acacia acted a little too scary. By late afternoon, they still hadn't found any place willing to board them.

Sitting on a bench in a tiny park just off the business section, Naresha rubbed her feet. "This isn't working, hon. We should have picked somewhere a wee bit more urban for our first stop. We just don't have that 'wholesome' bit going on. If we could just get Kathleen to come out long enough for us to find a flop..."

"No." Acacia denied the idea flatly. "She wouldn't, even if we asked. She's finally at peace, and I'm not going to ask her to give that up. There has to be another way." She hesitated, then said, "Naresha, the last couple of times you were in the other place? Did you... Did it seem like maybe there was someone else there? I mean besides Kathleen."

"I wasn't going to mention it. I was afraid you'd think I was crazy. But yes, it did feel like there was someone else there. Someone sort of familiar."

"Kind of, I dunno, comforting?"

"Exactly. How long have you been aware of her?"

"Just since we actually started to make plans. I been hoping she'd come out and talk to us, but I guess she's kinda shy."

"Not shy. I just wanted to be sure of my welcome."

Acacia and Naresha looked for the source of the voice. "Who are you?" Acacia asked eagerly. "You're the other one from the fog, right?"

"Yes. And you know me, Acacia." The voice was gently scolding. "If you think about it for a minute. You, too, Naresha. I wasn't born all that far behind you. Oh, stop staring around. If you want to see me for the first time, go find a mirror."

"I saw one back in one of the storefronts." Yes, Naresha would have been very aware of a mirror.

As they started toward the shop, Acacia said, "But why do we have to look in a mirror to see you first?"

Acacia was aware of a shrug. "Heck, I don't know. I don't make the rules, do I?"

They had found the mirror. It was set up in a cosmetics display in a drugstore window. Acacia and Naresha crowded together, peering into it eagerly.

The face that looked back at them had the family resemblance. The features were a little sharp, but in this case they were muted by the gentle, peaceful expression. There were the same slightly tilted blue eyes and pale skin, but the hair was a long sheaf of dull red-brown. She smiled at then sweetly, and made some sort of sign with her hands: thumb and last two fingers tucked, pointer and middle finger spread in a V. "Peace."

Acacia couldn't help grinning back. "Sis?"

The familiar stranger nodded cheerfully. "Hiya, Big Sis One and Big Sis Two."

Naresha studied the girl in the mirror closely. "Well, of course. I would have known you anywhere, dear. Now we just need a formal introduction..."

"Oo, I hate formalities!" The girl's piquant features bunched briefly in distaste. "I'm Milda."

Acacia nodded. "Mild and gentle. Yeah."

"And as close to mainstream as any of us is likely to get," Naresha pronounced. "Darling, I think you'regoing to be what keeps us from sleeping on a park bench tonight."

"If we hurry." Acacia amended. "Anything you need, sis?"

Milda smiled sheepishly and touched her hair. "I'd really like my hair, if ya don't mind. I know you girls like it short, but I feel kinda naked." He smile widened. "Not that naked is a bad thing, you understand."

Both Acacia and Naresha had a chuckle. "Yeah, she's ours, all right." Acacia chortled. "Okay. There's a wig store right over there. You drive. Get what you want."

The clerk had been having a boring day. About the only clients she had this time of year was from regulars buying maintenance products, or having repairs done. She was glad to see someone come in, though her hopes slumped when she realized how young the customer was. Probably just wanted to try on a couple of dozen wigs and giggle at herself in the mirror, then leave. "Can I help you?," she asked, steeling herself.

"Hi. Yes." The girl came to the counter and peered at the dozens of wig busts on display. They held shades from platinum, to jet black, to screaming henna. The styles went from pageboy to pixie, to elaborate beehive. The girl pointed immediately to a plain red fall. "That one, please."

As she got it off the stand, the clerk said dully, "And what else?"

"Oh, that's it. As long as it fits."

The clerk looked at the girl more closely. She had pitch black hair in a cut so short it would have looked more in place on a boy. The color brought out the paleness of her skin, and the blue of her eyes, but she supposed that the cut had been a mistake, and she wanted something to cover it up while it grew out. "You don't want something in your own color."

As she took the wig, the girl said, "This is my own color." She flipped the wig on, looking in the mirror on the counter to get it fitted properly. Then she looked back at the clerk.

The clerk blinked. Damned if that wasn't her color. The girl was completely changed by the wig. She'd gone from looking a little cold and calculating to looking warm, open, and friendly. Her face positively glowed with good-will. "Uh... yeah. I see what you mean."

"It's just faboo. I'll have it, thank you very much. Is that the price on the stand?"

"Yeah, plus tax."

The girl was digging money out of a purse. "Well, much as I'd like to say screw Uncle Sam, let him fund his police actions himself, I don't want you to get in trouble, so here's the full amount. Now. Is there an army surplus store, or a Goodwill close-by?"

"Both, just down the block. Turn left when you leave here."

"Thank you." She went to the door, and turned back with a sunny smile. "Isn't it just a wonderful day? It's my birthday, you know. I'm going to go celebrate it with my sisters."

"Hey, sisters are great. Older or younger?"

"Both older."

"They take care of you?" The smile became soft. "We take care of each other."

A few minutes later, Milda was strolling down a residential street nearby. She was wearing a loose blouse, a floaty skirt that came down to her ankles, almost hiding a pair of no-nonsense boots, and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, the weakest non-prescription reading specs she could find in the local drug store. They were still a little too strong for her to see through comfortably, so they rode low on her nose.

"Now, quit worrying, girls. That last one was just impossible. They were looking for a combination of Jackie Kennedy and a nun." The address they were looking for proved to be a big old place, just a little ramshackle. There were three cats sunning themselves on the sill of the front window, and another pair sitting on the front stoop. "Oh, I think we're going to do well here."

She knocked on the door, and it was answered by a small, elderly woman, who peered up at her through glasses much like the ones she wore. "Yes, dear?"

"Hi!" Milda held up the paper. "You advertised a room for rent?"

"Yes, I did." The old lady looked at her more closely. "You're a bit young to be on your own, aren't you?"

Milda gave her a sincere, tremulous smile. "Yes, ma'am, I suppose so. I'm only eighteen. But, well, Mama died two years ago, and Daddy died last month, and the county just doesn't want me any more."

The old woman's face puckered. "You poor thing. Come in and have some tea, and we'll see what we can do." As Milda stepped inside, Naresha and Acacia exchanged looks. Then, shrugging, they followed her inside before their new landlady could shut them out.