The Dark Journey
Chapter 25 - The Ride
Where am I going?
I ask myself
away, away and away
is the only reply
moving on once again
scared that he will find me
but why should he care?
I am just a toy for him
to do with as he may please
if the toy gets broken
you go out and get another one
if the toy gets lost you look
for a while
and then go find another one
I hope he doesn't look
too long or too hard
that he is content to just
find another one
(I hope to God she is strong)
So I ride
where am I going?
Away, away and away
through mountains and canyons
across deserts and plains
higher
further
safer
better
to make a new life in a new place
the mother of a tiny child
the thought is terrifying to me
but not as truly horrible
as staying behind would be
being a toy
to be played with for a while
then broken and discarded
I know I am not the first toy
that he has had
I will not be the last
but I will not be left lying
broken and lifeless
to be hauled out with the trash
No! Never!
I am better than this
So I will go
Away, away and away
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She served me some eggs and toast, and I ate what I could of it, but the pain in my back and side was too much, and I was overcome with nausea (which, I would realize later, had nothing to do with the pain I was in). She helped me over to the couch and I lay there while we talked. I talked most of the morning, staring up at the ceiling, while she sat and listened. It felt good to let this out to someone, although some parts I would never tell anyone, even to this day.
When I finished, she got up, walked to the couch where I was laying, and knelt down beside me. She bent down and kissed my cheek and I felt her tears falling onto my face and mixing with my own. She told me to rest as much as I could, she would get me out of here tonight. I dozed off and on most of the afternoon while she went about her business. I heard her talking on the phone a few times, and I was sure she would be calling the police, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
That evening she suggested that I take a nice hot bath to soothe my aches and bruises a bit. After she had helped me undress, she told me to wait a minute before getting in the tub. She went down the hall and came back a few moments later with a camera. She took pictures of my back, sides, face, and foot. Then as a kind of after thought, she took pictures of the older burn scars on my chest, stomach and inner thighs. She told me that if I ever decided to press charges, these would come in very handy.
She fed me dinner and afterwards we talked about what I was to do. She had called the bus station down in Medford and gotten prices and departure times for various destinations. She had decided on Medford because it was less likely that anyone would be looking for me there. There was a bus leaving for L.A. at 12:15 A.M., which I immediately declined, another going to Spokane, Washington that was also within her limited budget, but neither of us was convinced that it was far enough.
There was one last departure, 4:20 A.M. to Boise, Salt Lake, and Grand Junction, Colorado. It would seriously deplete her resources, she said, but it was probably the best of the three. I didn't have the strength to argue the point as she seemed fairly adamant about it.
We both got a little sleep before leaving for Medford around 3:30 the next morning. After buying the ticket, she gave me her address and phone number and told me to call if I needed anything. We sat in silence, waiting for the boarding call. I couldn't help the panic that threatened to overwhelm me, I thought that, with my luck, Jaker would show up about a minute before the bus left and haul me back to ... well ... to hell.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, the announcement came and I hefted my bag. She stood up and we embraced momentarily before, with stammered words of thanks, I turned away and boarded the bus that would take me to, I hoped, a new life. As I sat looking out the window waiting for the bus to start moving I watched this woman, who had done so much for me when she had so little, walk away with a wave to the parking lot.
I am a little embarrassed and chagrined to admit that, although I know she told me, I have no recollection at all of what her name is, and I lost her address and phone number somewhere between Oregon and Colorado. Nonetheless, I am forever in her debt, and, somehow, I hope to repay her. Perhaps I already have, by remaining alive and free. I don't know.
The ride was long and painful and mostly uneventful other than some horrid nightmares that seemed to creep into my sleep whenever I dared to allow myself to nod off. She had supplied me with bandages for my foot and aspirin for the pain and a small amount of spending money to buy meals along the way. I was very worried about the wellbeing of my child, the one thing in the world that really mattered now, but I felt that it was ok, prayed that it was, pleaded with God to let it be ok, if nothing else in my life was ever good, let this one thing be. Perhaps He heard me, perhaps not, I don't know. Only time would tell. The only thing I knew for sure was that I hadn't miscarried. That was a good start. I hoped it was good enough.
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