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A snort of laughter came from behind a tree. “You should probably learn how to throw it first,” my father said. “Unless you’re just going to hit me over the head with it.”
I scowled. “What are you doing?”
Big Eddie stepped out from behind the tree, wearing his pajama pants and a blue shirt and the rubber boots he kept near the door for when it was raining. “Wondering what you’re doing,” he said easily. “Going for a walk at night?”
“I’m running away,” I said, putting the boomerang back into my bag. “Forever.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Yeah. I’m mad as hell.” I figured I could say that word now that I was a runaway.
He chuckled. “Are you? That’s not good.”
I glared at him before turning and walking down the two-lane road.
He followed.
“What are you doing?” I said, resolutely not looking back at him. “Going for a walk,” he said. “It’s a nice night.”
I huffed and didn’t say anything back.
I only made it half a mile before I got really hungry. Big Eddie stayed with me the whole way, talking about how pretty the night was, how many stars were in the sky, and did I see the Big Dipper up there? Or Orion’s Belt? I didn’t answer, but I did look up and find the constellations because he’d shown me how, a long time before. He chattered away about this and that, and I did my best to ignore him.
But eventually I was hungry and figured I at least deserved a break to have part of one of my sandwiches and maybe some chips. The cookies I’d save for later as a treat to celebrate when I found my very own boxcar. I wasn’t thirsty yet, so the juice could wait.
I went off the side of the road, through a ditch, and found a nice big tree to sit under. Big Eddie followed me and stood next to me while I dug around my bag until I found the lunch sack. I pulled out one of the cheese and mustard sandwiches and was about to take a bite when I remembered they were his favorite too. I felt bad, knowing that since we’d walked so far, he must be hungry like I was. I only warred with myself for a moment before I said, “You want part of my sandwich?”
He nodded and sat down next to me, putting his back against the tree trunk as I tore the sandwich in half. I handed his half over to him, and he thanked me quietly. And then I figured you can’t have mustard and cheese sandwiches without barbeque Bugles, so I gave him some of those too. And that led to Fig Newtons, because you needed dessert after a big meal. And that led to juice because the cookies coated our throats and we were thirsty.
Eventually, my head started to bob. I was tired because it was almost eleven o’clock, according to my Star Wars watch. I’d hoped to at least make it to Canada by morning since it was so close on the map I’d looked at before leaving.
And somehow, I found myself in my father’s lap, my head pressed against his chest, mumbling that I was running away, that I was mad at him and didn’t want to live with him anymore. But he was so big and warm I couldn’t fight the waves of sleep washing over me much more and figured I would rest until morning and then start out again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, when I was almost asleep.
“For what?” I asked drowsily, because I’d already forgotten.
“For making you mad.”
“Oh. That’s okay.”
He kissed my forehead. “Do you still want to run away?”
I shrugged.
“Well, if you do, can I go with you?”
This surprised me. “Why?”
“Because I’d be sad if you were gone forever.”
“Oh. Okay. You can come.” I paused, thinking. “What about Mom?” He sighed dramatically. “Oh, I forgot about her! Well, we just can’t leave her,
can we. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Maybe we should just stay at the house,” I said wisely. “All our stuff is there
already and it might just be easier.”
