by Bella King
“You really need to act like an adult, Jane,” my uncle scolded, shaking his head. “Look what you’ve done to your aunt. She’s crying because of you,” he said, thrusting an open palm toward her.
I took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to abandon Aunt Martha. I’m just trying to get an education. What’s wrong with that?”
“You’re really dense, Jane. Do you know that?” my uncle said, shaking his head at me angrily.
I got up from the table, snatching my acceptance letter off of the stained tablecloth and rushing out of the room. I couldn’t stand to be talked down to like that anymore. I wasn’t the bad guy here. I was just trying to do what was best for me.
I ran up to my bedroom as my uncle shouted at me from the dining room. I slammed the door behind me and buried my face into my pillow, spilling hot tears onto the rough fabric. This wasn’t at all how I had envisioned things going.
I pounded a fist into the bed, crumpling the letter in my hand. Was I really thinking with my ego when I expressed my desire to go to college instead of working at the factory to help my aunt pay the bills? Eventually, I would have to go my own way. Why couldn’t that be now?
I threw the letter to the floor while keeping my face in the pillow, wanting to forget about everything that had happened today. If I had never even seen the letter, what would have changed? I might have been happy to start work at the factory and grateful toward my uncle for offering me a position there.
It was funny how things change based on our expectations and experiences. For me, burying my face in books all day, as my uncle had put it, constituted adequate preparation for a job. For him, standing at an assembly line and putting car parts together for twelve hours a day was the experience I needed to further myself in life. Clearly, we had vastly different ways of viewing the world.
My aunt had cared for me, but not without lacing her care with selfish tendencies. She saw me, not only as the innocent child of her sister, but also as a way to regain the quality of life she had lost when she split with her husband years ago. I couldn’t always be that crutch for her.
A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts. I didn’t answer it.
“Jane,” my aunt’s meager voice spoke through the thin wood.
“I don’t want to talk,” I called out from my bed.
“I don’t want you to be angry about this,” she continued.
“I said, I don’t want to talk,” I shouted.
“You’re going to work at the factory,” my aunt replied, ignoring my protests.
I stayed silent. I wasn’t going to make a decision on this just yet. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it until I had the chance to sleep on it. I knew that my aunt would try to further manipulate me into agreeing with her and my uncle. I didn’t want their help deciding what to do.
I continued to ignore my aunt until she left. After that, I stayed in my bedroom, refusing to come out for the rest of the night. I turned around the options in my head. I had to think about what my mother and father would have wanted me to do, but it was hard to picture it because I was young when they had died.
I stared at the uneven ceiling as I laid in bed. I could hear the crickets chirping outside, a sound that would drift away as the cold of winter approached. I made shapes between the cracks and bumps on the ceiling with my eyes as I thought about what to do.
I wasn’t going to give up my life to work at a factory. I would regret turning down East Bridge University in favor of growing old among the whirring machines and rude small-town folk that came with the job. The only thing I would be leaving behind if I went to college was a whole lot of nothing.
In truth, I had made up my mind even before I received the letter from East Bridge. I knew that somehow, someway, I would make something of myself. I wouldn’t let the depressing pull of my hometown keep me from shooting high. This was my chance, and I was taking it.
I managed to fall asleep sometime after two in the morning, once my brain no longer buzzed loud enough to keep me awake.
Chapter 4
I folded a pink t-shirt and placed it on top of the stack of clothes that sat in my suitcase. I wasn’t sure what all I would need to take with me, so I was trying to take my entire room. I didn’t own that many things, and I didn’t want to risk losing anything that I left behind. I wasn’t sure how my aunt would react when she found out that I was gone.
I had done plenty of thinking last night and had decided that pursuing my dreams was far more important than staying to support my aunt. If she really needed it, she could get back with my uncle, since she didn’t seem to have an issue with him now. Maybe she could go work at the factory.
I laughed to myself as I folded another shirt and threw it in the suitcase. How ridiculous were my aunt and uncle to think that I would stay here based on what they had offered me? Guilt-tripping had only worked for so long before I grew wiser. I wasn’t stupid.
The sun peeked through my pale curtains as I finished packing my clothes. I still have two weeks before I was supposed to show up at school, but I wanted to get out of the house before my aunt did something crazy to make me stay. I knew she wasn’t above that. She had pulled crazy tricks in the past to manipulate me.
One time, when I decided that I didn’t want to do the laundry every single night when I got back home from school, she broke the machine on purpose, and we went three weeks without being able to wash anything. I had to wash my clothes in the bathtub until she made me agree to continue doing the laundry for her. Only then did she had the machine repaired.
I knew that if my aunt knew that I was leaving, she would try something on a much larger scale. I didn’t want to give her time to think up some crazy stunt, like breaking her hip or losing her job on purpose to try to keep me at home to help her. I was going to outdo her, even if I felt a little guilty about it.
I zipped my suitcase shut and shoved it under my bed with my foot. I wouldn’t be leaving until my aunt left for work. My plan was to take a taxi to the bus station, and from there catch a string of busses across the country until I reached East Bridge University. It would take me a week to go that far by bus, and I was sure that after that, it would only be a few days until they opened up campus before classes began. I would be fine.
While it wasn’t the ideal way to travel, I didn’t have many options because I didn’t have very much money. I could find a part-time job when I got to school, but for now, I would just have to use what little cash I had in my pocket to stay alive. I figured it would be enough for food and bus tickets, but hotels were probably not going to happen. I could sleep on the bus.
I heard the sound of my aunt in the kitchen, which told me it was time to go downstairs and pretend to have decided to stay, at least until she left so that she wouldn’t stay home trying to convince me that slaving away at a factory during my prime years was a good idea. I think we both knew it was only good for her.
I threw on a decent pair of clothes and went downstairs to join my aunt. I never wore very nice clothes, but that was because I never went out much and I didn’t have the money for anything terribly nice. I wished I did, though, because East Bridge was a prestigious school that primarily catered to wealthier families than my own. I would be out of place.
I guess it didn’t bother me too much because I didn’t plan on making friends there. I was a loner by choice, and by now, I was so used to it that the idea of being surrounded by so many people was a bit worrying. What if I couldn’t handle it?
I pushed those negative thoughts aside as I ventured into the kitchen. I had already made up my mind about school, so there so no use in letting the negative thoughts into my brain.
I pulled my auburn hair into a loose bun as I walked into the kitchen, smelling bacon as my aunt cooked breakfast in her work clothes.
“You’re up early,” she said without looking at me.
I went to the fridge and pulled out a half-empty container of creamer. “I went to bed pretty early,” I replied, but t
hat wasn’t the reason I had woken up so early. I woke up to pack my bags and get the hell out of here.
“Your uncle was pretty upset about how you acted at dinner last night,” my aunt said over the crackling of bacon in the pan.
I shrugged. “I’m sorry. I was just caught up in the moment.” I grabbed the steaming pot of coffee from the counter and poured half a cup for myself. Any more, and I would be too jittery to function.
“We didn’t want to upset you, but you have to understand, college isn’t for everyone,” she said, finally turning around to face me.
I could see that she was still worried about me leaving. I felt a pang of guilt deep in my stomach for what I was about to do. I faked a smile. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to go,” I lied.
Her face went from distress to a psychotic level of happiness in an instant now that she thought she had gotten her way. “Oh, yes, you wouldn’t want to go anyway. They don’t like people like us there. Besides, you’ll probably meet a lot of hard-working men at the factory,” she said, dumping the pan of bacon onto a plate in the middle of the table.
Gross. The last thing I wanted to do was get married to some grungy bloke from the factory who chain-smoked and ended every night with a six-pack of cheap beer. That was my uncle all over again. They were all the same.
I kept this to myself, though, as I always did. There was no use in arguing with people like my aunt. She couldn’t be reasoned with.
“The neighborhood potluck is tonight, don’t forget. I need a load of laundry washed and dried before I get home,” my aunt said, returning to the stove as I poured creamer into my coffee.
Since I had graduated from high school, my aunt seemed to think I had all the time in the world to do her chores for her. At this point, I didn’t even feel bad for not doing the laundry before I left. It was my first act of rebellion before I finally freed myself from her authority.
“Do you need the colors and the whites done, or just the colors?” I asked, playing along with her.
“Probably both,” she said, spinning around with another pan, this one full of scrambled eggs. “And I would like you to wear something more presentable than that,” she said, flicking her eyes over my outfit.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked, taken aback.
“It’s hideous, darling. Nobody is going to come within ten feet of you at the potluck.”
That was the point. I didn’t want any more drooling idiots wandering up to me, asking me stupid questions in a meager attempt to get in my pants. It always happened, and it was always the married men who approached me. I was horrified the first time it had happened, but by now, I had adequate defenses for it. By that, I meant my loose and unattractive clothing.
“I’ll change into something nicer,” I said, lying once again. I was really on a roll with this, and I felt good to just agree to everything she said without actually taking action.
“Good,” she said, dumping eggs on a plate in the middle of the table. “You can have one of these biscuits, but don’t eat any more than that, or we won’t have enough for the potluck tonight.”
I nodded as I took a sip of my coffee. It was bitter, and half of it was milk, but I liked it that way. I couldn’t stand sweet things in the morning. I could eat an entire cake before bed, but once the sun came up, I was back to hating sweets. My stomach was strange like that.
“Sit down with me,” my aunt said, pulling out a chair.
I didn’t want to sit down, but I did anyway. The more complacent I was to her demands, the less of a fuss she would make when she left. All I wanted was for her to fly out of the door and never see me again. It was unfortunate that this was the way it had to be, but I had to go my own way.
“I want you to call your uncle today and talk to him about his job offer for you,” my aunt said, stabbing her fork into a plate of eggs and bacon.
I rolled my eyes internally. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to miss out on an opportunity like that,” I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
My aunt squinted at me but said nothing as she placed steaming scrambled eggs into her mouth. I pressed my lips together in a forced smile as I loaded up my plate. I wasn’t going to get another hot meal for a while, so I might as well enjoy this one.
I hid my expression of delight when my aunt finally got up from the table, leaving me with the dishes to wash. Her logic was that if she was the one making the food, then I had to clean the dishes. I’d rather make my own food and clean my own dishes, but I could make that decision for myself soon. Now, I had to play along.
“Don’t wait forever to put the clothes in the wash,” my aunt reminded me, “or they won’t be dry by the time we have to go.”
“Okay,” I replied, nodding my head.
Just leave already!
My aunt finally took her bag and coat, heading toward the door. I didn’t say goodbye to her but waited until she had pulled out of the driveway and driven away to spring up from my chair and start getting ready to leave. Today was the day that my life was going to change.
I grabbed three biscuits from the basket my aunt had left on the kitchen counter and brought them to my room to pack for the road. The dishes, laundry, and neighborhood potluck could all go fuck themselves. I wasn’t committing to any of them.
I ran up the stairs to my room, giddy about the journey ahead of me.
It took a lot longer than I thought it would to get ready. The taxi was already at my door for ten minutes before I came outside. I was either stalling or worried too much about missing something at my aunt’s house.
As I walked out the door, I felt a small tinge of hesitation at what I was about to do. There was still time to turn back now, but for what? What would I gain from letting my aunt and uncle rule my life? I didn’t even agree with them most of the time. I couldn’t trust their judgment over mine.
I took a deep breath and continued walking, the screen door slamming shut behind me as I rolled my heavy black suitcase down the stairs. My neighbor came out as I walked to the yellow taxi, cupping a hand over his eyes so that he could see me better in the horizontal morning sun. He would rat me out to my aunt, but he didn’t know where I was going, just that I was leaving. It was too late to turn back now.
I pulled open the glossy door to the taxi as the driver came around to take my luggage to the back.
“Going on a little trip?” he asked as he hauled my suitcase into the trunk.
“Something like that,” I replied, stepping into the backseat of the cab.
The driver slammed the trunk shut and circled around to the front, climbing into his beaded seat and shutting the door. “Where to?”
“School,” I said absentmindedly, not realizing that he needed to know where he was supposed to drive me.
“I don’t have an address for school,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, to the bus station for now. The main one,” I said.
“Central station it is,” he said, throwing the taxi into drive and pulling out of my aunt’s driveway.
As we left the house, I could still see my neighbor looking at me. Nothing exciting ever happened in this neighborhood. A bright yellow taxi was probably the most exciting thing he had seen all month. That was all the more reason to leave this place. I wouldn’t miss it.
Chapter 5
The trip down to the bus station took over half an hour, considering the morning traffic. I wasn’t happy about that, because it meant that I would have to pay more for the taxi. It already costed me more than I was comfortable paying, but I had no other option. I should have brought more food with me.
I thanked the driver as I stepped out at the station, the smell of diesel fuel and cigarettes floating through the air in a thin smog. The people around me looked to be in rough shape, but that was always the case with this type of public transit. Anyone presentable owned a car. I probably would own one too someday, but today I had to take the bus with the riff-raff.
Hey,
at least I fit in. I was still dressed in loose and unflattering clothes, my hair tied in a messy bun, and my black sneakers dirty from spills at the coffee shop I used to work at. I hadn’t even called the shop to say that I quit. They could figure it out on their own.
I walked up to the bleak concrete building with a large sign overhead that said CENTRAL STATION and pushed one of the double doors open by its worn steel handle. I was immediately met with the smell of instant coffee and sweat.
My feet brought me to the front desk, where a small line had formed to buy tickets for the next bus. I wasn’t entirely sure which one to buy, but my social anxiety kept me from asking anyone. No worries, I could figure it out myself.
I looked at the sign behind the ticket stand as I moved up in line, trying to piece together the archaic symbols printed there into something that could tell me which bus I was supposed to be one. E3, G7, H9, W4, and P12 all told me that they passed through three different states in the direction that I was heading. Any one of those would bring me closer to my destination, so I went with the cheapest option. I would need to save money for the next bus.
“A ticket for W4, please,” I said as I stepped up to the counter, avoiding eye contact with the woman behind it.
“W4 for what day?” she asked, her voice dull and emotionless.
“Uh, today,” I replied.
“W4 already left today,” she said, tapping a long set of acrylic nails against the counter.
“Okay, well, then whichever one is going to take me to the same place,” I said, giving her a shrug.
She frowned at me, then typed something into the computer beside her. “P12,” she said dryly.
I pulled a wad of money out of my pocket and slid some of it across the counter toward her. She took it, thumbing through the bills and making change before sliding it back to me with the ticket. “Enjoy your travels,” she said, just about as unenthusiastically as possible.
