3
“Chris said their tasers don’t even work,” I replied in disbelief at his plan.
“Then I’ll stab them,” said Forest.
“We’re on foot, man. If you do that then everyone’s looking for us. We both end up in jail and so does Becca.”
He kept his eyes on the door of the building, “One way or another I’m getting her out. Help if you want.”
“Let’s think of something else, less extreme,” I said.
Forest’s eyes looked misty while he stared at the locked front door of the building. Not like he was about to cry or anything, but I could see the emotion.
“She’s all that matters to me. I don’t care about extreme.”
We waited there for a few minutes, and I tried to think up an alternative. Nothing. Then Forest suddenly walked from behind the tree toward the building. He started to cross the street, knife in hand.
Ah damn.
“Forest!”
He kept walking.
“I have a plan!” I shouted.
Forest stopped and turned back toward the Banyan tree. But I didn’t have a plan. I had absolutely nothing.
He came back and crouched next to me. A pair of headlights belonging to an old truck drove by slowly.
“What. What is it?” he asked.
I coughed and spit at some bushes. “Okay. There are two security guards.”
Forest nodded.
“Becca’s upstairs right?”
“Yeah.”
“Toward the front of the room or back?”
“Back I think.”
“She’s got a backpack, right?”
Forest nodded and looked a little agitated. I had no idea where I was going with my quesions.
“So the two security guards locked the door.”
“Yeah.”
“She’s getting picked up today?”
“Yeah, man. C’mon. Spit it out.”
I looked away for a second. “What time?”
“This morning. Early, first thing,” said Forest.
“Okay - we wait here.”
Forest threw his hands up in the air, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“In a few hours she’ll be coming out that front door anyway. We’ll get her then,“ I said.
Forest seemed to like the sudden idea I just had which technically made sense.
“Yeah. May not even have to kill the foster parents, and we can take their car,” said Forest. He eased his grip on the knife. A drop of sweat poured over my temple, and I sat with my back up against the tree. It was a little eery in those woods, even though we were near the road. The branches formed into the shapes of men and monsters. My imagination was on overload. A rustling in the leaves, strange squeak, twig snapping, were all signs of imminent danger.
I hadn’t thought about stealing a car but always wondered what it would be like. A somewhat cool wind blew through the trees, and every few minutes a car or truck would ease by. Early May in Miami was awesome. It seemed like it was always in the low 70s and sunny. Cops passed by and randomly shined a flashlight out the window of their patrol car. The woods were way too thick to spot us, and I figured they were just killing time before their shift ended. I looked up at the sky and noticed the deep black becoming a shade lighter. Sunrise was getting close, and I could feel my nerves reaching my extremities. I bit off what little remaining fingernails I had and tried to stop my knee from bouncing up and down.
“Forest, you awake?”
“Of course.”
“You know how to drive?” I asked.
He took a little while to respond. “Probably,” he said.
Probably? My thoughts shifted to visions of flying through a windshield or driving off a bridge into Biscayne Bay. That was the end of the car theft idea, at least for me. Most kids had parents that taught them how to drive after school and shit like that. I knew that wasn’t the case with any of us. That was why I asked, and I was glad I did.
“I think we’re better off on foot. Slower, but easier to hide. We can keep a low profile,” I said.
“That’s fine. I don’t care as long as we get Becca.”
I propped my backpack up against the tree, rested my head on it, and looked up at the fading stars. I imagined what it would be like in the dark on a sailboat. Nothing but the ocean and night sky around me. I bet it would be pretty damn awesome. I snapped myself out of it. Too much needed to be done to get to that point. Instead I thought back to the sailboat lessons with Sam. Prepare to tack, man overboard drill, red right return, prepare to jibe, batten down. My thoughts got stuck on batten down, the term used to prepare for heavy weather.
Sam wouldn’t be with me, and for all I knew Forest and Becca couldn’t even swim. That boat could be slowly sinking for all we knew. So much was going to go wrong. We had hardly any food, no supplies. We were such idiots.
“Forest, if we actually pull this off, we have to figure out food and water.”
“Let’s just get Becca, get on the boat, and get out of here. We’ll figure it out.”
“Figure out what? We’ll be on a boat in the middle of the ocean.”
“I brought some food,” said Forest.
“What?”
“About a hundred rolls from the cafeteria.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah. Stole ‘em. Smashed them into a big ball. Hid them in my pants before we went upstairs.”
“But they’re in a plastic bag, right?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“That’s it. You?”
“Some Starbursts. I didn’t plan on coming. You got any money to buy food?” I asked.
“Nope. You?”
“No. So a hundred cafeteria rolls mushed together in a big doughy ball and some starbursts.”
“Yep,” said Forest.
“We’re going to have to get a lot of water somehow.”
“They have a hose at the dock?” asked Forest.
“Yeah.”
“Buckets?” asked Forest.
“Yeah, sure, scattered all over.”
“We’ll fill up some buckets. Done,” said Forest.
I raised my eyebrows and envisioned walking down below and tripping over the last bucket of water. The look on Forest’s face as it splashed all over the cabin floor. Screaming, cursing. I’d last about an hour treading water in the waves and drown somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic. Or maybe a shark would eat me first because I got stabbed on my way into the water.
I knew I should just ditch the program and hop under an eighteen wheeler or atop a train. But the ocean propelled my desperation and ruined my logic. I had lived within a hundred miles of the beach all my life, and those sailing lessons were the first time I had actually touched saltwater. Something had happened, and it was a part of me now. I had to go back.
It was sunrise, and traffic was starting to pick up. Reality check - I was already hungry and thirsty. I actually wanted to eat the couple of starbursts I had in my pocket, and that was technically my only food. Surely, this couldn’t work. It would be impossible to be any less prepared than we were.
“Look!” Forest pointed to a dated Ford Taurus as it pulled in front of the girls’ building. It parked no more than fifty yards from us. A woman stepped out of the passenger side. She was easily 350 pounds, heavy makeup, and really curly hair. Not normal curly. Forced curly, with whatever tools and chemicals it takes to pull that shit off. I squinted through the branches. And noticed some funky ass eyelashes I could see all the way from the woods. She looked annoyed. The man opened the driver side door and stepped out. He tucked in his shirt, but missed the back left corner. He was thin, with glasses, bald on top with a comb over, and a patchy beard. Thrift shop outfit.
They walked up the sidewalk to the main entrance of the building.
“That’s them,” said Forest.
The Less Fortunates Page 3