Flee, Fly, Flown

by Janet Hepburn

  Out in the yard, Ethel has squeezed herself onto the empty swing between the two boys. The three of them swing lazily back and forth in a synchronized dance.

  With Susan, we walk to the end of the lane, one little munchkin holding Ethel’s hand, the other holding mine.

  Susan looks up and down the road. “I don’t see your car,” she says. “Are you staying at the motel down the road?”

  We walk a long way before coming to the motel.

  Audrey points at a door propped ajar. “Remember?

  We left the key inside so we wouldn’t lose it.”

  “Is one of these vehicles yours, then?” Susan asks.

  “Yep. Would you like to come in and see our room?” Ethel asks. The boys run to the door and push it open.

  “I think I would like to come in for a moment, if you don’t mind,” Susan says. I can tell she’s still nervous about leaving us alone.

  Ethel follows the children inside and tells them they can jump on the bed if they want. Susan says they’d better not.

  “Is there anyone with you?” she asks again.

  Ethel answers. “Rayne is in the room next door. He’s my son and he’s driving us out west.”

  “Do you think I could meet him?” Susan asks.

  “Sure. Come on, I’ll introduce you to him.” Ethel leads the way to the room beside ours and knocks. “Rayne,” she calls out. “Rayne, it’s Audrey. Come and meet our new friends.”

  Shadow barks from within. A few minutes pass and Rayne comes to the door. He opens it a crack and peers out, red-eyed and scruffy-haired. “Hold on. I’ll be right out.”

  He smells of beer and smoke.

  “Open up,” Audrey says. “We want you to meet Susan and the little sweeties.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute.” His voice is gruff. He shuts the door.

  Susan looks worried. She says the name Audrey out loud but nothing more; watches us closely as we wait. Finally, Rayne opens the door just wide enough to edge out. He has Shadow on the leash. “Sorry. I must have overslept,” he says. He looks everywhere but at our faces.

  Audrey is undeterred. “Rayne, this is Susan and these are her sons. Aren’t they handsome?” She puts her arms around the boys’ shoulders. “I told Susan that you’re my son, and that you are driving us on our vacation.”

  “Hey,” he mumbles. “Nice to meet you.”

  Susan keeps her gaze on Rayne’s face and speaks, straightforward and firm. “It looks like you’ve had a rough night.”

  “I’m fine, not that it’s any of your business,” he says.

  I’m suddenly very cold. Why is he acting like this?

  “Hey, hey…don’t talk like that,” Audrey says. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “I don’t appreciate your friend’s insinuation,” Rayne says. “Sorry.” He directs Shadow back into the room and nods toward Audrey and me. “Get your things together, and we’ll leave in a few minutes.” Then to Susan, “Look, I’m just a little over-sensitive first thing in the morning. I appreciate your concern.”

  The door closes behind him.

  Susan takes my hand. “Is that really Ethel’s…Audrey’s son?”

  I try to laugh, to put her mind at ease, but it sounds fake, even to me. “Of course. He probably went out last night and had a couple of drinks, but he’s not a boozer or anything. He’s a nice guy who just wakes up crabby sometimes. We’re fine. Thank you for everything.”

  She slips back into our room and writes her phone number on a piece of paper. She hands it to me. “Please call me if you’re in danger.” She hugs both of us and the boys do the same. I almost start to cry.

  Audrey and I wait in our room in silence. My stomach flips and churns, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  Some time later, Rayne comes in. “Who was that?” he asks. “Where did you meet her?”

  I don’t answer. I gather my things and move toward the door.

  “Before you go out there, I just want to warn you that an old friend is joining us,” he says. “She needs a ride into town.” He pauses. “Um, I need some cash too. Can you lend me a hundred? I’ll pay you back when we see an ATM.”

  My shoulders are numb and my head is pounding. I hand him my purse and he takes out some bills.

  A young girl comes out of Tom’s room. She’s wearing jeans and a black sweatshirt. A gigantic gray purse is slung over her shoulder. Red hair spills from under the hood that she pulls over her head as she walks toward us.

  “Mornin’,” she says, then casts an awkward look at Tom.

  He responds by wordlessly handing her some money and then taking his place behind the wheel. Audrey and the girl both make a move for the front passenger seat.

  “Excuse me,” Audrey says, pushing past. She climbs up and fastens her seatbelt, assuring her place up front.

  The girl backs away and waits until I’m comfortable before easing into the seat beside me. She forces the heavy bag between her feet.

  It is like being in church—quiet, all eyes forward as we drive. I can’t stand it any longer.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Chelsea.”

  “Chelsea, like the buns. Chelsea, Dear, how long have you known Tom?”

  She squirms a bit and brushes her fingers through the strands of hair around her face. “We just met.”

  “Really? And you stayed overnight with him?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Very brave. You don’t really know a man until you’ve slept with him. You might as well get that out of the way,

  I guess. Now you’ve met the real Tom, what do you think? Is he trustworthy?”

  Tom catches my eye in the rearview mirror but doesn’t say anything. Chelsea just looks at me like I have two heads.

  “Because we trust him, but I feel like we need a second opinion. You see, we don’t have the kind of insight you have.”

  “Jeezus, Lillian,” Tom says. “Be quiet.”

  “Now there, you see what I mean? We give him everything, and he talks to us like that. What do think of a boy who talks to an old lady like that?”

  Chelsea sits up straighter. “I think you’re right. That’s not very nice.”

  We turn into the downtown and pull up beside a curb. The girl slides down and out of the van without so much as a wave. As the door glides closed, she hurries away.

  Tom drives on, and once again we are in church.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder who raised such a rude young man,” I say. “How did you turn out like this? Your father would be very disappointed in you right now.”

  Audrey watches the scenery fly past, apparently unburdened by the change in Tom’s temperament. Suddenly she claps her hands and announces, “The Manitoba border. We’re crossing into Manitoba. There’s an information place. Can we stop and ask for information?”

  “We’re just gonna keep going,” Tom says. He looks straight ahead.

  Audrey twists in her seat as far as she can to look at me. “Are you crying?” she asks. “What’s wrong? We’re in Manitoba, aren’t you happy about that? Look! Highway 1.”

  I can’t bring myself to smile, though I want to act like everything is all right. Like Audrey. She just doesn’t seem to notice things. Doesn’t she hear him, see him? I get that he is young. I do remember, sometimes vividly, what it’s like to have a sex drive. But he talked to us like we were children. “Get your things. Be quiet.”

  He is starting to make me nervous.

  13

  This road goes on forever. A sign points toward Steinbach. The name is vaguely familiar, like the name of a classmate whose face can’t be conjured up, or a story recently heard, the details of which are just out of reach.

  “Are we going to Steinbach?” I ask. />
  “No, we’re almost to Winnipeg though,” Rayne says.

  “It didn’t take long to get through Ontario,” Audrey says. “I feel like we just left home yesterday.”

  “I feel like we’ve been driving forever,” Rayne says. “But now that we’re in Manitoba, it’s starting to feel more like home.” He eases a bit more comfortably down into the seat. “I should phone my dad tonight. We haven’t talked for a long time. I should let him know I’m coming home.”

  “Will you tell him about us?” I ask.

  “No. It would be hard to explain this to someone who’s never met you.”

  “I’m not sure how to take that,” Audrey says, “but I think it’s good that you let your parents know you’re safe and that you’re going home.”

  We cross the Red River Floodway and then the river itself, its water flowing lazily between the banks. After stopping for sandwiches, we drive on toward Brandon. Rayne looks happy, his elbow resting on the frame of the open window, shoulders relaxed, and foot a little heavy on the gas pedal.

  From behind, we hear the scream of a siren. Rayne checks the side mirror and eases his foot off the pedal. His face pales as he realizes the sirens are intended for him. He steers the van to the shoulder. The white, unmarked police car follows.

  “Don’t say a word unless he asks you a question, and if he does, then only answer yes or no. Don’t tell him anything,” he says.

  An officer approaches the window. Rayne pulls the rental papers from the glove compartment and looks up into eyes that glare down from under the brimmed hat of a giant.

  “Good afternoon, Sir,” Rayne says.

  “Afternoon. Could I see your license, please?” the officer says. He leans over and tips his head just inside the window, eyes slowly scanning the interior.

  Shadow lurches across the seat and growls. “Quiet, Girl,” Rayne says, his elbow blocking her from the front seat. “These are the papers for the rented van.” He hands them out the window. “I need to get my driver’s license from my pack in the back.” He points toward the rear of the van.

  The officer steps away from the door to let him out, one hand holding the rental papers, the other hovering near his hip. “Where are you headed?”

  Shadow barks and tries to jump to the back of the van as Rayne moves to the rear and opens the door. I listen carefully.

  “I’m driving my grandma and aunt to see my dad in B.C.” He finds his license and hands it to the officer.

  “Wayne Carpenter? Your license says you live in Ottawa, but the lease agreement says you rented the car in Thunder Bay.”

  “Yeah, we got a ride to Thunder Bay with a friend and then we rented the vehicle there to go the rest of the way.”

  “Do you know how fast you were going with your grandmother in the car?” he asks.

  “Not exactly,” Rayne answers.

  “Twenty-two clicks over the speed limit. You need to slow down, young man. Here in Manitoba we take speeding seriously.”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand. I’ll be more careful.” Rayne bows his head in hopes that he’ll get off with a warning.

  “You’re driving your grandma and aunt all the way to B.C.?” the officer asks, looking again inside the van.

  I wave and smile. The officer turns to Rayne. “You’d better slow it down. I’m going to ask you to get back in the car and wait. I need to run this license through the system.”

  He reappears at the window looking much more stern. “Mr. Carpenter, you’ve had a few minor brushes with the law but nothing recent or outstanding. I hope that means you’re cleaning up your act.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’ve had to write you up a ticket after all. I might have let you off, but you need to know that there are perks that come with having a clean slate. You, Sir, do not qualify for such favors.”

  He turns to Audrey and me.

  “Now then, ladies…I’m going to need some identification from you as well, please.”

  Audrey reaches around in front of her seat. “Oh, good grief! My purse is gone. I don’t have proof of anything anymore!”

  “I need to see something, Ma’am. Do you have a driver’s license, birth certificate, passport?” He turns to me and adds, “You too, Ma’am.”

  “A boy knocked me down and took my purse. I had everything in there,” Audrey says.

  The officer looks skeptical. “Did you report it?”

  “No.”

  “Mine was stolen too,” I say before he has a chance to ask Audrey any more questions.

  “Is that a fact? Is that your backpack beside you?”

  My face is getting very hot. “Oh, yes. I guess it is.”

  He nods toward the pack, the brim of his hat almost covering his face as he leans in. “Could you have a look in it, Ma’am, and tell me if there’s any I.D. in there?”

  I unzip the main pocket and swipe my hand around inside. “Nope, sorry. Nothing.”

  The officer looks up and down the road. “I’ll have to ask you to come to the station with me then.” He watches Rayne’s face carefully. “These two ladies match the description of a missing person’s report filed in Ottawa. Do you know anything about that?”

  The color drains away from Rayne’s neck. “I have nothing to do with that, Officer. If they’re missing, I don’t know anything about it.”

  “Didn’t you say they were your grandmother and aunt? We need to identify them and sort out this situation. I’m asking you to follow me to the station. Remember, I know who you are.” He looks at Audrey and me. “You can come with me in the cruiser.”

  He starts back toward his vehicle.

  “Are we going in the police car?” Audrey asks.

  “Jeezus, Audrey. You two better get your act together,” Rayne says. “You need to make sure that if they identify you—and they probably have photos—I don’t get blamed for kidnapping you or something. I’m innocent. All I’ve done is drive you around like you asked.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “By the way, nice to see how concerned you are for your granny and auntie when things

  get rough.”

  The ride to the station is sort of fun. I’ve never been in a police car before. Audrey talks the whole way.

  “Are the sirens on? I can’t hear them. Lillian, can you hear them? What are they going to do with us? We’re not going to jail, are we? Young man, are we being arrested?”

  “No. I’m just taking you in for questioning, Ma’am. I’m just concerned for your safety. To be honest, I’m a little worried about your collaboration with Mr. Carpenter.”

  “Rayne didn’t do anything,” Audrey says. “He’s just driving us on our vacation.”

  The officer parks in a lot with several other police cruisers and opens the door for us. “Follow me.”

  Rayne looks like he is ready to run. I grab his hand and walk with him. “Don’t worry,” I say. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Inside, the officer speaks to a man at the desk and then puts Audrey and me in a room by ourselves. A lady officer comes in and closes the door.

  “Hello, I’m Staff Sergeant Christensen.” She shakes our hands. “And who are you?”

  Audrey answers right away. “Lucy and Ethel.”

  “Lucy? Is that you?” she says to Audrey.

  “No, I’m Ethel.”

  “Hmmm…because the officer mentioned that you called this lady Lillian.”

  “I did?” Audrey says. “Sometimes I forget.”

  “You forget your sister’s name?”

  “No. I have other sisters named Lillian.”

  Sergeant Christensen looks at me. “Lillian? Do you have identification?”

  I shake my head and keep my eye on the backpack at my feet.

  “Listen
. Here’s why we asked you to come in for questioning. We have two missing person’s reports on file that match your descriptions and we need to investigate the possibility that you are these two. Now, if your name is Lillian,” she says, “then you must be Lillian Gorsen, from Ottawa.

  Is that right, Lillian?”

  “I’m Lucy, Lucy Smith.” I can’t really think of a good name under pressure.

  “Audrey?” she says, turning.

  “Yes?”

  “So, you are Audrey? Audrey Clark?” Sergeant Christensen asks.

  “Oh.”

  “Can you tell me why you are in Manitoba and why you left—” she checks her file, “Tranquil Meadows Nursing Home?”

  We’re caught. We are definitely in big trouble. “It was my idea,” I say. “I just wanted to go on a vacation. It’s boring in there. It’s freezing and it’s mashed potatoes and soggy toast the same, same, same every day. We got out on our own. That shows that we’re capable of doing things. It’s not easy to break out of there, you know; it’s like a high-security prison with alarms in the elevators and codes for the doors.”

  “Where’s Rayne?” Audrey asks.

  “You mean Wayne,” the officer says.

  “No, Rayne.”

  “The man you came in with is Wayne Carpenter. He isn’t your son, is he?”

  “I like to think of him as my son,” Audrey says. “But, who’s Wayne? Did I hear wrong?”

  “How did you meet Mr. Carpenter? Does he work at the nursing home?”

  “No,” I say. “We must have met him after.”

  “At the bank,” Audrey says.

  The officer’s eyebrows pop like window blinds slipped from someone’s grasp. “He met you at the bank?”

  “Well, actually, in front of the bank. He helped us. We needed someone to drive.” Audrey cups her hand beside her mouth and whispers that I’m not a very good driver.

  “He had nothing to do with us leaving The Home,” I say. “That’s right. We met him after, and we asked him to drive us. It wasn’t his idea, was it, Audrey? No, I’m sure it wasn’t his idea.”

  Eventually, we convince Sergeant Christensen that we aren’t being kidnapped or held for ransom or anything untoward. Audrey says, once again, how much she adores Rayne and wants him to be her son. She says that we sing and have picnics and that he drives safely most of the time. Sergeant Christensen leaves us alone in the room again. She returns with Rayne.