4
I looked at Forest, then at his fingers as they tightened around the handle of the big knife. It looked like he was killing those people with his eyes. Less than a minute passed, and the large front door suddenly swung open. Out walked the odd couple and Becca behind them. It was impossible not to stare at Becca. Even in a school uniform, with no makeup, it didn’t matter. She was a bombshell, at least to me. Dirty blonde hair cut just below her shoulders, narrow green eyes, and freckles. She ran track, and her body fit the sport. Whenever I saw her she had on the same tennis shoes and no socks. They were more attractive on her than high heels on other girls.
I never saw her smile, but I wasn’t around her that much. I had only heard her speak three times, and never to me. There was nothing special about her voice other than the fact that it always caught my attention.
“Hold on, Joey. Wait till he opens the car door. A few more seconds.”
I quickly snapped out of it, as I realized what was about to go down.
“Forest!”
He put his hand up. “Shutup, on the count of three. One.”
I grabbed his shirt. “Listen!”
He pushed me hard, and I fell back. “Just stay here. I don’t care,” said Forest.
I got up, “Just yell her name.”
Forest looked pissed. “What!” he snapped.
I peered through the branches and noticed Becca looking around. I put two fingers to my lips and whistled loudly. Forest was pissed.
The group all stopped and looked in our direction. Becca then immediately bolted toward us.
“Yes,” whispered Forest.
The man yelled “Stop!” in a raspy voice and gave chase. Forest popped out of the woods like a tiger and sprinted directly for him. Damn. The look on that man's face when he saw Forest running at him with a big knife. It was like he suddenly turned into a scared boy and almost tripped he turned around so fast. The man bolted back to his car with a surprising amount of youthful agility. The Girl Scout security guards started freaking out and yelled some nonsense on their walkie talkies. Forest and Becca burst into the woods running, and I quickly fell in behind them.
I ran harder than I ever had in my life. They were both fast as hell, but I managed to keep up. We had about three quarters of a mile until we hit 72nd Street. All we had to do was run toward the rising sun and we would be heading in generally the right direction. We passed through a long patch of tall ferns and mangrove trees. We heard a growl to our left and saw a stray dog running away from us. We got to within a hundred feet of the highway and stopped. Becca was breathing hard, and I felt like I had knives in my stomach.
“You alright?” asked Forest. Becca nodded.
“What’s he doing here?” she asked.
“He’s coming with us,” replied Forest.
“Isn’t that the guy you beat up?”
“That’s over,” said Forest.”
I slowly caught my breath and stood up straight. For a moment I looked up at the canopy and clouds behind it while another squiggly line passed over my vision.
“Did you bring any food?” asked Forest.
“No, just clothes. Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the Bahamas,” said Forest.
“How?”
“We’re sailing there,” he replied.
Becca raised her left eyebrow.
“Who has a sailboat?” she asked.
“We’re taking one. Joey knows about a marina down the road.”
“Oook, are we sure we don’t want to try something else?”
Forest nodded, “We can do it.”
“We need to be able to catch fish, right?” she asked. Becca turned her attention toward me and the moment I saw her eyes, I looked away at the highway we had to cross.
“You know how to fish?” asked Forest.
“Probably,” I said.
“Have you ever caught one?” he asked.
“No, but it looks easy. You?”
Forest shook his head.
If we actually managed to sail into the Atlantic, we would be so screwed. Becca didn’t belong with us. It was like a purebred running around with some mutts in the woods. I kind of got me and Forest, but someone like her should have had some better options.
Forest continued walking through the woods toward the clearing, and we followed from behind. He held up his knife, “I can make a spear with this. We can spear fish from the boat.”
I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure that wouldn’t work, but whatever. I felt like to win was to simply try. To give it a shot. I was sure we would be picked up by the police any minute and there was no chance in hell that we would actually find ourselves on a stolen sailboat in the middle of the ocean.
We stopped just before the clearing, and Forest got down to his knees and opened up his backpack. He pulled out a ripped out page from a street atlas that showed Southeast Miami.
“No shit,” I said.
“What?” asked Forest.
“I’m just surprised one of us has a map.”
Forest pointed to the patch of woods we just ran through. “Look at these back streets off 72nd,” said Forest. “Less chance of being spotted.”
“We have to split up,” said Becca.
“No. Why?” asked Forest.
“They’ll be looking for three of us. Together we stick out. We need to split up and meet somewhere.”
She was right. Forest scratched his chin and nodded.
“Joey, meet us at the marina.” said Forest.
“Okay,” I answered. “It’s Matthews Marina off of Old Cut. Wait under the pavilion. If anyone asks what you’re doing just tell them you’re waiting for your uncle. The most important thing though is to look like you belong there and no one should mess with you.”
Forest and Becca left the cover of the woods and crossed a grass median littered with paper and Styrofoam cups. Before they had even taken five steps across the road, a patrol car pulled up behind them and flashed a blue light. Damn. They froze and watched the cop step out of his car. Clean shaven, head cocked back, sunglasses and chewing gum. His right hand rested on the baton that was fastened to his belt. He looked like a total dick. He also looked like he would be useless on foot with his tight pants and hangover belly.
“Shit, Forest don’t stab him,” I whispered.
He came within a few feet of them, and I almost wanted to close my eyes.
“So,” said the cop and suddenly Forest and Becca took off running across the street. The sudden movement made the cop jump like a cat, and his gum flew out of his mouth. He raced as best he could back to his car and fumbled for a second or two opening the door. By the time he put it in drive Forest and Becca had already made it across the street and jumped a wooden fence into someone's back yard.
The cop got stuck behind some cars at a light and laid on his horn. He managed to pull through a gap as the drivers slowly made an opening for him. He did a U turn and flew down the neighborhood street with his siren blaring. Then they were all gone, and within minutes the scene in front of me returned to normal. I was kind of paranoid now about leaving the woods. That shit happened quick.
I figured for sure they would get caught, which would put an end to the plan. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. I didn’t really know what to do next. I couldn’t go back, wouldn’t go back. The sky was clear and the sun had risen. The image of the beach near the marina stuck out in my thoughts.
The thought of being left alone all day at that beach. No bells, teachers, desks, just me and the ocean. Hell yeah. I would try and make it there and think about what to do next if I made it that far. Once I got caught, whatever punishment they dished out would be worth it. I had to make it there. Had to be smart.
I decided to wait a few minutes before I ventured out. I could see 72nd street in the distance. I would follow the back streets, and if I got spotted, hide. It was time. I took a few deep breaths and left the woods, crossed the median, and headed east. There were a lot of cars on
the road but no one seemed to take much notice of me. So far I was having better luck than Forest and Becca and hoped it would hold out.
I felt a surge of freedom and almost started whistling. Maybe it was what most people felt every day, maybe not. I, on the other hand, was sick of being shuffled around, told where I had to be and at what time. There was nothing like being in control of my own life, even if only for a day. Within minutes I crossed 72nd and continued down a narrow side street filled with big houses, palm trees, and some bad ass cars. A black suburban with tinted windows drove by slowly. The bass was hitting hard, so I knew it wasn’t a cop. I kept walking without looking in their direction.
I didn’t like my odds walking in a neighborhood. In the slums you had to worry about getting mugged, and I was always broke. In a nice neighborhood the problem was cops. I was hoping for something in between and a little more on the run down side.
A car came from behind, and I could tell it was slowing. I tilted my head slightly to catch a glimpse of it. Cop. Damn it. I looked toward my right at a large house that resembled an orange castle. If the cop was like that last one I might have a chance. There was a fence I could jump over. I needed to see him first. The cop flashed his lights and stopped beside me with his passenger window down. I gave him a look over. My luck had run out. Shaved head, muscular, thin. I wouldn’t even make it to the fence. Damn it, I really wanted to see the beach.
“Where you headin’, son?”
“To my uncle's house up the road.”
“How far?” he asked.
“A few miles.”
“Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”
Psh, straight back to his office. Maybe he was serious? I only had one option as I saw it.
“Cool. Thanks a lot.” I got in the front seat and clicked my seatbelt. It smelled like a locker room. Like there were a bunch of sweaty dudes in the back seat or something. There was a big, old school, laptop to his right. The bars behind my head freaked me out, and it felt like I should be on the other side.
“What street?” he asked.
Think Joey, think quick. “He actually lives on a boat. Matthews Marina off of Old Cut. Wherever you drop me off is fine though. I can walk the rest of the way.” Shit, why did I say the marina?
“The one next to the state park? You aren't walking there, it’s ten miles.”
“Yes sir, it usually takes me about an hour and a half.”
“Why aren't you in school?”
“I homeschool.”
“Why aren't you in homeschool?”
“I don’t have class until tonight. My mom got called into work.”
He nodded and seemed satisfied with my answer.
A voice came over his radio. “135. Three juveniles on foot. Two white males, one white female. Fled Havana School this morning.”
Well damn, that was it.
The cop picked up the radio, “10-4, on lookout.”
“You didn’t run away from the Havana School, did you?”
I laughed, “No sir. Is that where they keep the orphan kids?”
“Right. It’s really just a step before juvenile hall. State program.”
He knew. He had to. This cop was screwing with my head. I glanced at the door handle and wondered if I should pull it at the next stop light. No. Tackled and tased, guaranteed.
“Hey, kid I’ll let you off at the corner of Old Cut.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“You walking back?”
“No my Mom will pick me up when she gets off.”
No shit. He actually might drop me off. That surprised me, because he looked so impressive, like a cop from a movie or a crime show. The big houses flew by, and I felt oddly lucky not to be walking all that way. We drove past an intersection and quick movement to my right caught my attention. Damn! Forest and Becca. The cop looked dead ahead and didn’t notice the two teenagers on the moped zip by one street over. They looked ridiculous. I wasn’t sure if it was a moped or what. Whatever it was, it was tiny but pushing them along pretty damn fast.
The dispatch sounded off, “Stolen Scooter reported at Florida Grocery on 101st Street.” We eased up to a stoplight. The cop looked around for a moment then to his phone.
The light turned green, and we pulled into a gas station.
“You can get out here. The marina is a half mile up the road.”
“Thank you, sir!” I got out and shut the door behind me.
The cop nodded and drove out of the tight parking lot.
The Less Fortunates Page 4
