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He tried to stay out of the way. Kept his head down, showered at night after the rest of them had gone to bed because Didi made comments about the hot water running out. He never asked for seconds and always made sure his room was neat. He worked to catch up in school and wrote to his father and Steph, because a cell phone wasn’t one of the items given to him. But he emailed from the library every day, sitting at the third computer in the second row. He also sent handwritten letters to Dad because Dad had said in one of their weekly phone calls (which Didi resented) that getting mail was really great. And he sure would love it if Lucas could visit.
Lucas asked. He waited until he could have a word alone with his uncle. “Sure, of course, I’ll see when we can make it,” Joe said, but nothing materialized. He asked again, and then again. Late at night at the end of his second month, he overheard Joe and Didi talking through the air-conditioning vent that made for excellent eavesdropping. “I think I’ll take Lucas to see my brother tomorrow,” Joe said affably, and Lucas actually jolted upright, his heart leaping in his chest.
Silence, then, “Excuse me?”
“It’d be good for him. He’s having a tough time.”
“Are you anidiot,Joe? You want to take achildto aprison?Can you imagine how that will impact yourson?Lucas is a bad enough influence on him as it is. And I think I’ve bent over backward here, taking him in the way we’ve had to. This isnothow I envisioned life, you know. Now you want to take him to see your criminal, drug-dealing brother?”
As usual, Didi got her way.
So the letters and emails had to suffice.
Then, after seven months, word came that Dan was being transferred. Overcrowding in Illinois prisons; Dad was going to a facility in Arizona next week. Joe broke the news at dinner, and Didi’s pinched face froze even harder.
“Do you think you can take me to see him this weekend?” Lucas asked, his fork was clenched in his hand.
“You bet, sport,” his uncle said.
“We’ll see,” Didi answered. “This is not really dinner conversation, though, is it?” She inclined her head toward Bryce, who was texting someone and smiling.
“Please, Aunt Didi.” He hated calling heraunt.She didn’t deserve the title, but maybe, please God, it would soften her up.
“Isaid,we’ll see, Lucas.”
That meant no.
Dad was being moved on Monday. It was already Wednesday.
That night, after the family had gone upstairs and no voices drifted down through the vents, Lucas packed his cheap backpack, made a couple of peanut butter sandwiches, taking care to wipe down the counter and put the knife in the dishwasher. Left the house, closing the door silently behind him.
His plan was pretty basic: he’d get to his sister’s place and get her to borrow her friend’s car. The prison was about three hours out of Chicago. If she couldn’t take him, Tommy O’Shea’s parents might. They’d liked him well enough back in the day. Once, Lucas had intervened in a fight on Tommy’s behalf and got a black eye for his trouble. Maybe it’d be enough to get a ride. Or he’d hitchhike.
He made it out of the development and walked about a mile to the train tracks. It’d be perfect if he could hop a freighter like the hobos of yore, but the trains on this track were commuter trains and flew by at this time of night. But the tracks did lead into Chicago, so Lucas walked along them, his heart both heavy and light.
It’d be good to see Dad again. But it would be terrible to see him, too, because this would be the last time for a long time. A really long time.
Arizona...that was two days of driving, and Lucas didn’t even have a learner’s permit.
He was about two miles out of town when he looked over his shoulder.
Shit.
Bryce was following him. His cousin raised his hand and trotted to close the distance between them.
“What are you doing?” Lucas said.
“Hey! I should ask you that, right? Where are you going? You running away?”
Lucas took a breath. “I’m going to say goodbye to my dad. Don’t follow me, okay? I’ll be back in a day or so.”
“No, it’s cool! I’ll come with you, in fact.”
“Bryce, if you come with me, your mom will have the state police out looking for you. Go home, buddy.”
“Why? It’ll be fun! The two of us, together!”
“No. You can’t come.”
