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“With my stuff. Don’t worry. I have it.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
“No rings?” he noticed.
“I left them at home. I thought it was more believable that I’d go running without them.” Really, she’d worn them out of the house and slipped them off the second she’d gotten into the orange grove. Abby had debated what to do with the rings over and over with herself. Her hair was pulled back in a giant clip and they were hiding inside her twist of hair. It was like having an additional fifty thousand dollars along, although, as tempting as it was, she knew better than to pawn these in her future. She hoped they’d come in handy in some other way, as long as Charlie didn’t reach up and decide to let her hair loose. He’d never done anything like this before, but today could be the day.
“You don’t have your phone, right?”
“No. I can’t, since it tracks me. You know that.”
“What about that?” he asked, nodding at the iPod strapped to her arm.
“There’s no tracker in this. It’s just my iPod. I thought it would make it more believable that I was running.”
“Good idea.”
“Thanks. These shoes are new -- they were still in the box, since I never run -- so I left the shoebox out too, to help him along. It’s like, the shoebox is open on the bed, the drawer with my shorts is open, and I’ve got a bottle of sunscreen sitting out on the kitchen countertop. I really spelled it out for him.”
Along with her running shorts and shoes, she was wearing a simple white t-shirt. Nothing too bright or memorable. She had a sports bra on. It was every bit as uncomfortable as she remembered. She had actually gone running, for the first time in years, to a scrawny patch of fruit trees half a mile from their house. When she came out the other side Charlie was waiting for her. He’d brought her back here to his place, even though she’d thought they were going to go straight to his uncle’s abandoned farm.
“I’m not quite ready,” he’d told her.
“Okay,” she’d said. But it wasn’t. A plan this important shouldn’t already be off course.
Once they got to his apartment she saw that he had sleeping bags, grocery bags of food, a cooler, lots of beer. His party props reminded her that this was nothing if not an adventure. She felt a little reassured when she saw everything he was bringing, lined up and ready by his front door, though the beer surprised her a little. They usually drank wine.
“I didn’t get to load the stuff up yet,” he explained. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“Okay. Are you feeling alright?” she asked. His skin was bordering
on green.
“No. Not really.”
Instead of taking anything outside he went to use the bathroom. Abby heard him turn on the fan and a faucet, but it did little to help muffle the sound of his diarrhea. She turned on the TV so she wouldn’t have to hear him. Finally she went into his bedroom and sat on his bed to get away.
The reality that things were in motion hit her. She’d been thinking about her dad coaching her when she was a kid playing soccer. “Have a plan, Abby! Have a plan!” He’d never liked the way she ran down the field kicking the ball, not looking where she was going. “You understand that the whole point of the game is to get it in the goal, right?” he’d say on the car ride home.
“I’ll figure it out,” she’d tell him, hoping it was true.
“Everything gets easier with experience,” her mom would say. “You’ll be fine. I know you will.”
“If not, can I keep living with you guys?”
“Sure Sweetie. All three of you girls can stay with Dad and me forever.”
Charlie was finally out of the bathroom. He stuck his head in the bedroom. “I thought you left or something” he said. He had an armload of gear.
“Of course I didn’t leave.”
“Well then, I’m going to load up the truck.”
“Wait,” Abby said. “How are you going to get this stuff into your truck without anyone seeing you?”
“No one is ever out at the back of my building. And, I know what you’re thinking, but there aren’t any cameras out there.”
“What if someone is out there? What if someone sees you?”
