A Worn Backpack Part 3

“So she’s missing?” a seventeen year old boy asked, while looking at a picture of himself and Molly with Catherine, sitting in her bedroom.

“We don’t know what to do. She’s been gone since yesterday morning. We called the police, but all they said was they’ll be on the lookout. You know her, right? Where could she be?” Catherine’s mother asked him nervously, squeezing the color out of his arm.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I really don’t know her that well. Why don’t you call Molly? She’d probably know.”

“Oh, we did, Johnathan, we did. She has no idea. You’re always with her. And your name is always the first to come out of her mouth. Can’t you think of anywhere she could be?”

Johnny sat still, looking intently on the picture. His golden hair had grown back and now tumbled across his face. He slowly put the picture down and walked towards the door.

“I’m sorry ma’am, there’s no clue in my mind. I’ve got to get home now. My momma will be wanting me back for dinner,” he walked out the door, with an air of pitiful indifference about him. He never showed anyone the core of his cold exterior persona, but Catherine knew it existed. They had remained friends even after he pushed her feelings aside. That was the only time he ever showed Catherine a glimpse into his heart. She saw he cared, even though he didn’t love her, and that was enough to keep her going. He wasn’t what drove her away.

She stopped walking on the side of the road, about 70 miles from her home. Her long brown hair blew in thin locks as a rare wind passed her by. She turned to enjoy it, as she saw a car approaching. She walked into the middle of the road. She had always wondered what death would feel like; she imagined it as a wonderful thing, although she never felt ready to die. At this point she was a lost soul in the world and decided even welcoming death would be better than staying at home. She felt a slight pain, and then nothing. She could hear the world numbly moving forward around her.

“What the fuck is this crazy chick doing in the middle of the road? I almost ran her over!!”

Catherine opened her eyes to the surprise of floating above the ground, towards an open door. She left consciousness again, awakening in a moving vehicle, with a face staring down at her.

“Hey, Max, I think she’s waking up.”

Catherine grunted and finally opened her eyes to full awareness, “Where am I?”

“We almost ran you the fuck over. What the hell were you doing in the road?” Max exclaimed.

“Ignore him. He’s just cranky. I’m Jimmy. We’re heading to New York,” Jimmy looked her over, “So… why were you in the middle of the road?”

“I had nothing better to do,” Catherine said calmly.

“Do you have a name?”

“Catherine.”

“Do you want us to drop you off somewhere?” Max said after 10 minutes of silence.

“Anywhere is fine.”

“That’s crap. Everyone has somewhere they’re heading.”

Catherine thought for another minute as Jimmy alternately stared at her and Max, waiting for one of them to continue the conversation.

“Hey, Max, if she aint going anywhere, why don’t we take her to New York with us?” Jimmy finally broke the silence.

Catherine glanced at the back of Max’s head. She felt that Max didn’t like this idea, and waited for his approval before answering herself.

“New York fine with ya?” Max finally said.

“Sure.”

For the first time in days, Catherine smiled. She had somewhere to go again. Even though she didn’t know these people, she felt safe staying with them. Everyone had always thought her a naïve girl, but she felt her judgment of people was better than they all gave credit.

After a half hour of driving, Max pulled over at a gas station. As Catherine glanced around, Max turned to her and Jimmy in the back seat, “dinner time.”

The three got out of the car and walked into the convenience store. Catherine remembered her situation as she saw displays full of chips, cakes, candy, and soda. She began to walk away from Jimmy and Max, as Max noticed.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Umm… bathroom.”

Catherine walked to the only bathroom in the entire station, a co-ed bathroom with mold and cobwebs growing in every corner. She quickly locked herself in. She could finally relax again. She glared at the water-spotted mirror. She looked worse than that morning: her hair separated into long, dark strings, her face was reddened from the Western sun, and her t-shirt was ragged and drenched in sweat stains. She suddenly remembered the police officer. She didn’t know where she was, but if she was still in Arizona, she could be taken back.

She crept out of the bathroom, and wandered discreetly through the aisles. To her luck she found what she needed. She slipped back into the bathroom, and ran a blade across her head. Her hair fell swiftly to the ground, and she looked in the mirror, satisfied. She threw her hair out and opened the door to the bathroom, hoping to slip out as subtly as the first time.

“Are you ready?” Jimmy was standing outside the door, waiting for her this time.

They walked back to the car, and slid in, as Max pulled out of the station.

“You hungry?” Jimmy waved a cold sub in her face.

“No thank you.”

“So what’d you do with your hair?” Jimmy asked after they had driven for 15 minutes.

Catherine suddenly remembered she had put the pocket knife in her bag. She never left it in the store. For the first time in her life, she committed a legitimate crime.

“Is it too late to go back?”

“Damn right it is,” Max replied, knowing from the start a girl like her would only be an encumbrance on this trip.

“I cut it off,” Catherine said, turning to Jimmy.

“You a fugitive or something?” Max said, joining the conversation.

Catherine looked regretfully down at her lap. She rode away in a car with two strangers, holding a sketchbook, a few pencils, a half-full water bottle, an almost full bag of Lays, and a sullen emptiness slowly returning to her soul, all crammed into her worn backpack.