The Good Neighbor's Daughter

Chapter 8; Dispute in Escaping

               

On most days I wouldn't even think about using my phone while driving, but today wasn't that day. The black truck was the only vehicle on the road as I drove, sleep deprived and scared out of my mind through the night. Spoons was next to me, looking over his shoulder at the girl passed out in the back seat like a cat to an unsuspecting mouse. The only difference was that this mouse could wake up at any time and punch Spoons' nose up through his brain.

            After a few hours of driving through the endless woods, the road finally straightened out and I took the opportunity to try and call my mom. The girl had said that she was at home, safe and sound, but if anyone was going to get in more trouble after a day like today, it was Helen Moore.

            The phone rang and rang and rang. "Hello, it's Helen and Pen Moore. We can't get to the phone right now, either because we've not home or we've watching rated R movies and don't care, so leave a message at the beep. Unless we're watching a rated R movie because we don't care," my mom's voice said clearly on the other side.

            I remembered the day she recorded that message. She had just brought home a shopping bag full of old movies and we proceeded to watch them all that night. The sound of her voice on the phone made me start to tear up. It wasn't fair.

            It wasn't fair that I had grown up without a father. It wasn't fair that I was targeted by a group of psycho killers looking for some faerie that wasn't me. It wasn't fair that Deer and Crow weren't with me and that I was surrounded by strangers. I wiped my tears away and focused on the road as I redialed my home number.

            "Not picking up?" Spoons asked. "I wouldn't be surprised. It's nearly one in the morning."

            "She'll pick up," I said, holding the phone to my ear. I listened to it ring. Once, twice, three times and then the answering message.

            I threw my phone in Spoons' lap, annoyed. It was one in the morning, sure, but my mom should have picked up the phone by now. The home phone sat just outside her bedroom and she would have woken up to the sound. After a second thought, I held out my hand and Spoons offered me my phone back.

            I dialed my mom's cell phone number. She never answered the thing, but maybe if she saw my number she'd answer. It rang and rang and rang. It just kept ringing. I waited for my mom to answer or for her message to play, but the phone just continued to ring. I listened to it ring for three minutes before I gave up and ended the call.

            I stared down at the road as I drove. It would be dark until four AM, so I was stuck driving until we found another town or the sun rose. Spoons kept offering to take over, but I declined. This was the only thing keeping me awake and if I slept, I couldn't be sure Spoons wouldn't stop and drain the prisoner in the back of all her blood.

            "She should have picked up," I said, slapping the steering wheel.

            "I don't want to be the bringer of bad news, but maybe the Siren was lying about your mom," Spoons said.

            "She wasn't lying," I said. "If she was, if something happened to my mom, I'd know and she'd already be dead."

            Spoons scoffed, but didn't say anything.

            I just rolled my eyes and continued to drive. Outside, the trees obscured any chance of light from the stars or moon. The only light was the headlights. They painted the road in white burning light, keeping my eyes from closing for too long. As long as I could stay awake, with my eyes on the road, I could keep living, keep fighting and keep hoping.