But the park was quiet in the late afternoon hush. His garden was empty. Clutching the tomatoes and the mayo to my chest I brought them back inside, a smiling squirrel with forbidden nuts.
Despite being gross and in need of a shower, I toasted the last of the bagels that I’d bought from—believe it or not—a truck stop and slathered them with mayo and tomatoes. And I ate my lunch standing up.
Truck stops were kind of amazing places.
Once I’d bought the car, I made a study of truck stops from Pennsylvania down to North Carolina. And in most of them I’d been able to take a shower, as well as buy fresh fruit and some milk. And car parts, because the POS Toyota leaked oil like a sieve. Once I even splurged and had a club sandwich delivered to my parking spot. For a few quarters I’d been able to check the internet. Which I did religiously, searching the online versions of Oklahoma newspapers for news of my disappearance.
Everyone slept in their cars at truck stops, so no one came around at dawn to shoo me away.
If I’d wanted to, I could buy a new cell phone. A pet dog. A time-share in Florida. A gun. And jerky made out of camel meat.
But that was nothing compared to what I could have gotten at night.
At night I watched through the window of my car as the young girls came out in short skirts and heels so high they could barely walk. Or boys in tight pants, playing with their nipples through net shirts, talking to truckers who watched them like if they could, they would unhinge their jaws and swallow them whole.
Those girls and boys climbed into the trucks, smiling and licking their lips, only to come out an hour later, smiles vanished, tucking money into their pockets.
And I got it—I understood, they were playing a part. I knew all about that in my own life. But they were so convincing. So illicit and knowing. Forbidden and confident. The parking lots reeked of sex.
I watched them and wondered and thought about what went on in those trucks.
What I knew about sex could fit in a shoe box. A terribly small shoe box. And I knew that the reality of what was happening in those trucks was totally illegal, probably cold at best, and degrading more often than not.
But what if it wasn’t always? What if one of those truckers and one of those men or women were kind? Were excited? And careful? What if they were able to take something that could be awful and painful and scary and made it…nice? Or more than nice?
It’s not like I thought it was The Notebook happening in those trucks—I wasn’t stupid. I was just…hopeful.
And if I had hope for them…couldn’t I have hope for myself?
I thought about that in my car in those truck stops until I was…hungry.
And that was a hunger I had no idea how to feed.
—
A half hour later, still sweating, even after the coldest shower in the history of cold showers, I stood in the bedroom of my trailer and considered doing something I’d never done before:
Dropping the towel and lying down naked across my bed so the breeze coming through the screens would blow right across my hot body.
My naked body.
Because I could do that. No one was here to care. Or stop me.
I put my fingers against my neck. It was a sick habit, but I caught myself pressing my thumb against the worst of the bruises—just until it hurt again.
A reminder. An anchor…Don’t move too fast, Annie. Remember where you’re from.
Crouching down slightly, I caught sight of the world outside when the breeze came through the window. What if someone was standing right there? Just when the wind blew and someone saw me…naked on the bed?
The chances were minuscule. The idea ludicrous, surrounded as I was by walls of metal. Thin metal—but still.
The truth was I was more self-conscious alone than I was with other people.
In the end, twenty-four years of conditioning won out. Defeated, slightly ashamed of myself, I got dressed.
Annie McKay, you’re just not the kind of person who lies down naked in her bed in the middle of the day.
In the drawer next to my bed was the phone programmed with only one number. Dylan. I felt the world in a new way these days. Since pulling myself up off the floor and leaving my life behind. I was new.