My Abandonment(56)

It's all like Father says since out in the open it's so clear how things are. I walk past posters with my face on them, my old name, and no one sees me. I see people I know from the ward, and the rule is that they have to call out and recognize me first before I can say anything to them and they never do. Sometimes they're close enough to reach out and touch. People tie blue ribbons in the tree branches for me since they think that is my favorite color even if my favorite color is yellow. I read about the blue ribbons in the newspaper. Father reaches high and pulls one loose for me and I fold it up in my pocket to keep.

"My heart," he says, "from now on it's best if you don't speak of your foster parents or your sister, to me or to anyone. If you can keep from thinking about them, that would be best. It will get easier."

These days are only practice for who we'll be and where we'll go. We're not staying in Boise, we're heading west since already Father can see the future and how we'll live in the forest park, all the happy days ahead.





Seven


The funny thing is that the city of Boise has grown and spread out everywhere and still Father's camp and shelter are hidden and it looks like hardly anyone has ever come through the underbrush and found it. There's a couple bent beer cans in the back and that's all.

That's where I stay the first night I get to Boise. There's still the flat stone where the stove went, the one shelf that held the pots and pans, even the metal pipe with concrete on both ends like a barbell too heavy for almost anyone to lift. The scratches of the handcuff are still on that pipe where it slid back and forth when I was left alone.

Sitting here now I wish in a way that it was back then and we were here together. We could set out and do it all over, every part except the end even if that was meant to happen. Even if it was and it happened again I'd like to go back to right here with Father, starting out. I would try to help Father not to make the mistake he made by thinking the lady and boy were like we are. I am angry at Father even if he couldn't help it since now we are apart and I am alone.

To get here this time was easy. Mostly since I had the money though there's less of that now. It was afternoon by the time I walked into Sisters and I found the bus station without asking anyone.

This is the day before yesterday: I pretend when I get on the bus that I'm with the lady in front of me and there's lots of room on the bus so I don't have to sit next to anyone. I lie down with my arm looped through my backpack and fall right asleep. Everything about me smells like smoke from the fire in the cave.

It's sunny when I sit up and we're almost in Boise. I can tell by the shape of the mountains and I don't need a map to find my way around. I don't need to ask for directions.

First I buy a new sleeping bag that costs almost one hundred dollars. Second I buy two pairs of wool socks, third some batteries and then a blue stocking cap that says GO BRONCOS in orange knitting around it. That's the name of the sports teams at the university.

Then I buy nuts and bread and fruit and water, as much as I can carry. I am not worried about anyone recognizing me. If they couldn't see me before when I was with Father and looked the same as they remember they'll never see me now that I'm taller and dressed this way with my pack and all my hair up in the cap. I limp but am not slow. It's a long walk and confusing since so much has changed and there's so many new houses and none of the new streets are straight, up in the foothills. There's yellow machines parked where flat parts have been cut into hills, and houses half built where I could stay but I will not stay. Finally I understand and I backtrack some, I am careful like someone is following me even if no one is. It's almost dark when I reach the end of the houses, up high where there's snow on the ground. There's dark paths beaten down through the snow from people or animals or both. That's the way I go.

Up at the top of the slope I know where I am. Looking down I see the yellow squares of light that are windows and the flickering televisions and the snap of darkness that means someone is going to bed. Caroline, I am thinking. Smart girl, no one knows you've come back.

I circle around some before I find it and then I carefully take out the headlamp and keep it pointed down. The ground is not too hard and I unroll my new sleeping bag. My left foot is blistered up. It's not easy to move the toes but it doesn't hurt as much so it's getting better. I almost build a fire to dry out my shoes even if it would draw attention. The truth is that my feet have grown and I should have bought new shoes especially for the weather but I did not since I was trying to save Father's money.

I burrow my cold face down. It is a mummy bag that goes down to ten degrees and it can be zipped from the inside or the outside. I use up the end of the old batteries in the headlamp reading about mammals and then reading some of what Father wrote to keep in his notebook. Sometimes I have to take out the dictionary to look up his words. Before I put the headlamp away I load it up with new batteries that I bought in case I need it in the middle of the night.