Running Water

“I’ve been thinking lately,” Fern said, throwing herself back onto the bed. She moved her cell phone from her left ear to her right one, missing a second of Noah’s reply.

“Of course you have,” he said. Ignoring him, Fern went on.

“We’re pretty clueless, you know?” Noah snorted upon hearing this, his ego temporarily wounded.

“No, I don’t know.” Fern got up from her bed and took a sip of her watery Sprite, enjoying the slightly disgusting taste.

“Let me explain it to you then, Mr. Sarcasm. Basically, I’m saying that we don’t know much. And don’t get started yelling about dead people, the square root of 144, or anything like that. School stuff is whatever, it doesn’t really count. I’m saying that we don’t know anything about the real world. And now don’t get started yelling about cars and bills, I’m talking about what color the flowers are in California, and why. I’m talking about how it feels to drive and drive for miles, only you and the open road, losing track of the time and watching the sunrise. I want to know what it’s like to sleep in a sleazy motel and what kind of trees might be best for climbing. I want to know why people leave each other, why teachers become teachers.” Wheels were turning in Fern’s head, there was a machine going now. She had come up with an idea and she wasn’t going to leave it to rot, maybe to come back to it later. She knew she didn’t have enough ticks of the clock for that.

Noah let all of that settle in his mind, and then he finally said, “Deep.” It didn’t bother Fern in the slightest; she had been expecting a response like that anyways. Fern grinned and nodded, though he couldn’t see her.

“I know. In fact, tomorrow, I’m making it my mission to find out.”

“You can’t do that in one day, silly.” Noah told her, trying to make her laugh. It worked, but Fern quickly went back to business.

“I don’t plan to do it in one day,” she said, walking out of her room, the Bat Cave, and throwing her Sprite in the recycling. “That’d be dumb,” she added, hitting her little sister Giselle on the head as she passed her on the way back to the Bat Cave.

“Oh, of course,” Noah laughed, “My bad.” Fern sniffed haughtily.

“Your bad indeed,” she agreed, shutting her bedroom door. “But seriously,” she continued, whispering. “I am going to figure out this whole fucking world.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re serious? Actually serious?” Noah shot up from his couch, almost dropping his phone in the process. He ran a hand through his hair, something he did when stressed.

“You think I’m not? This is no joke, Noah. I am on a mission.”

“So you’re just going to leave school? This is our seinor year, Fern.”

“I know it is. I’m eighteen, I can leave if I want, you know. Education isn’t at the top of the newest edition of my to-do list.” Fern studied her hands, noticing her highlighter yellow nails were chipping.

“Think about this for a second. What about your mom? Your dad? Your sister? Think about how this would affect them. Fern, you can’t just up and leave. You can’t do anything you want. The world does not revolve around you.” Noah and Fern had always been quick to anger, especially with each other.

“You can’t tell me what I can and cannot do, Noah. You aren’t my father. You know what? I’m going to leave tonight! I was going to ask you to come, but now you’re not invited!” Childish? Yes. Did Fern regret it at all? No.

“I wouldn’t have come anyways, I’ve got a brain.” With this, Noah hung up, and Fern was left kicking her pretty pink walls.



She told no one, other than Noah, of course. She had trouble containing herself for the rest of the day in front of her family, so during the middle of dinner she claimed she felt sick and excused herself. She waited in her room for night to come gnawing on red licorice and surfing the web. She came out before bedtime, bidding her family goodnight. She gave them hugs, for she didn’t know when she’d see them again.

Fern stayed in bed, pretending that she was dreaming until she knew her father was asleep. Looking at her cell phone, it was apparently 4:17 a.m. when she slipped on her boots and grabbed her suitcase. She packed light, taking only a few things, because she had figured that was something you were supposed to do. That’s how it was in the movies. She snuck out the back door, cringing when it squeaked and when it slammed shut. Once she was safely out, though, she knew the rest of her escape would be a breeze.

She got in her car, careful not to slam the door. She started it up, listening to the roaring of the engine and holding her breath, hoping everyone on her street was a heavy sleeper.

She then drove away, having no plan as to where she was going.

All she knew was that she had to learn everything before time ran out, and she would start by getting a feel for the road, swimming through her thoughts, and dealing with a long, long night.