again. She cupped the phone and talked to him. Before he hung up, he promised to call her before he went to bed.
She arrived in Philadelphia in the late afternoon. It was cold, but not snowy. Passengers got off the bus and she hung back, waiting for all of them to leave. In the restroom, she removed the duffel bag and then went into the waiting room and took a seat on a bench. Her stomach was growling and she sliced off a little cheese and ate it with crackers. She knew she had to make it last, though, so she put the rest of it away, even though she was still hungry. Finally, after buying a map of the city, she stepped outside.
The terminal wasn’t located in a bad part of town; she saw the convention center and Trocadero Theater, which made her feel safe, but it also meant she could never afford a hotel room in the area. The map indicated that she was close to Chinatown, and for lack of a better plan she headed in that direction.
Three hours later, she’d finally found a place to sleep. It was dingy and reeked of smoke, and her room was barely large enough for the small bed that had been crammed inside. There was no lamp; instead, a single bulb protruded from the ceiling and the communal bathroom was down the hall. The walls were gray and water stained and the window had bars. From the rooms on either side of her, she could hear people talking in a language she couldn’t understand. Still, it was all she could afford. She had enough money to stay three nights, four if she could somehow survive on the little food she’d brought from home.
She sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, afraid of this place, afraid of the future, her mind whirling. She had to pee but she didn’t want to leave the room. She tried to tell herself that it was an adventure and everything would be okay. As crazy as it sounded, she found herself wondering if she’d made a mistake by leaving; she tried not to think about her kitchen and bedroom and all the things she’d left behind. She knew she could buy a ticket back to Boston and get home before Kevin even realized she was gone. But her hair was short and dark and there was no way she could explain that.
Outside, the sun was down but streetlights shone through the dirty window. She heard horns honking and she looked out. At the street level, all the signs were in Chinese and some businesses were still open. She could hear conversations rising in the darkness and there were plastic bags filled with garbage piled near the street. She was in an unfamiliar city, a city filled with strangers. She couldn’t do this, she thought. She wasn’t strong enough. In three days, she’d have no place to stay unless she could find a job. If she sold her jewelry, she might buy herself another day, but then what?
She was so tired and her back throbbed. She lay down on the bed and drifted off to sleep almost immediately. Kevin called later, the bleating of the cell phone waking her up. It took everything she had to keep her voice steady, to betray nothing, but she sounded as tired as she felt and she knew that Kevin believed that she was in their bed. When he hung up, she fell asleep again within minutes.
In the morning, she could hear people walking down the hall, heading for the bathroom. Two Chinese women stood at the sinks and there was green mold in the grout and wet toilet paper on the floor. The door to the stall wouldn’t lock and she had to hold it closed with her hand.
In the room, she had cheese and crackers for breakfast. She wanted to shower but she realized she’d forgotten to pack shampoo and soap, so there wasn’t much point. She changed her clothes and brushed her teeth and hair. She repacked the duffel bag, unwilling to leave it in the room while she wasn’t there, and slung the strap over her shoulder and walked down the steps. The same clerk who’d given her the key was at the desk and she wondered whether he ever left this place. She paid for another night and asked him to hold her room.
Outside, the sky was blue and the streets were dry. She