Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

65 ∞ interruptions

Day Sixteen ∞ Saturday morning

NINE O'CLOCK FOUND DANNY wide awake but tired, unable to fall asleep again, momentarily surprised to be in his own bed. He'd spent so many nights sleeping on Mickmi's floor, he'd almost forgotten how good a mattress felt.

Mickmi!

He jumped up and left his room, pausing a moment to ascertain Mother's location. He could hear her talking with Gina downstairs so he padded barefooted to the guest room, rapped lightly on the door, and pushed his head in.

She was still there. He sighed in relief, a tad envious of her ability to sleep with all that was going on in her life.

Get as much as you can. He pulled the door shut and returned to his room to start organizing what he was going to carry. Change of clothes, extra underwear. His baseball cap. Toothbrush. A small towel from the linen closet. One for Mickmi too. His hunting knife in its leather sheath from the wall.

And cash.

He dug into his sock drawer and pulled out three wads of bills tied with elastic. His plans for his savings were on indefinite hold now. His gaze became distant as he weighed them in his hands.

Would this be enough? But he couldn't just leave his family without considering them.

He returned one wad to his drawer, knowing that when his mother searched his room for clues to his leaving, she'd find it.

Looking at the pile on his bed, he decided against getting his camping backpack from the basement. Too big and conspicuous. He'd use his regular knapsack instead. And carry his water canteen and flashlight. If he could get the new blanket to fit in the bag, he'd pack that too. Better be prepared to sleep under the stars. Or maybe they'd be doing that during the day—they'd probably be traveling by night. Easier to hide.

When Danny headed downstairs, Gina met him at the bottom and gave him a quick hug.

"Morning, Dan," she said chirpily, but her expression was that of concern. She pointed with her head at the kitchen before she passed him to go upstairs.

Danny remained standing for a moment, drew a long breath, then walked into the dining area.

"Good morning, dear. Slept well?"

"Morning, Mom." He didn't feel like talking. He went to the table where a bowl of grits waited next to his cup of coffee. He stood staring at it, then looked across the counter where his mother had returned to the stove to tend to the bacon and eggs. He swallowed against the lump growing in his throat.

Breakfast.

This was probably the last time he'd have a normal, home-cooked meal—the last moments to share with Mom before things went crazy and destroyed their relationship for good. He'd better savor it. His brow furrowed as he pulled out the chair and sat down, his eyes suddenly becoming moist. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes.

"Where's Mickmi? Is she coming down for breakfast?"

"Huh?" He looked up as his mother came with a laden plate. "Oh, she's still sleeping." His voice felt coarse. He reached for the butter and dropped a lump on the grits.

"Are you okay?" she said, placing the eggs and bacon before him.

"I'm fine," he lied and dug in, avoiding her gaze.

She studied him a moment, then said, "Your sister and I'll be going to the Spectacular to see the tournaments in a bit. Will you be going? You...," she hesitated, then returned to the kitchen area before continuing, "usually meet us there."