When Life Doesn't Give You Enough Cards to Play the Game, You Deal

The dead, fallen leaves crunched under my converse clad feet as I walked down the sidewalk. Crisp fall air whipped around me and I pulled my sweater closer to my body in an attempt to warm myself. I picked up my pace, afraid of being caught by my brother or father. I just wanted to get away from them both for a while, maybe just wander around a while, rent a hotel room.

With every step I took over a crack, the suitcase I was lugging behind me made a clunking sound. The sound, almost rhythmic, was all that kept me sane, and in touch with reality. I focused on the sound and my feet as I journeyed down the street, adjusting my beanie every now and then to keep my unstraightened hair somewhat in control.

My heart pounded in my chest as I heard a big truck coming, slowing down the closer it got. Paranoid, I turned around to see it come to a complete stop. I walked a bit faster than before, the thumping of my suitcase now erratic. The truck came up beside me again, and this time, honked their horn. I jumped a little, my heart now racing.

I heard the window make a noise as it was being rolled down. The face of a man who looked to be a 30-something appeared in the open space. A hand came out and motioned me over.

I was reluctant at first, but what if this man simply wanted to ask for directions? It’d be rude to ignore him. Safe, but still rude. I cautiously made my way over to the man in the rattling pick-up truck.

“Hi.” He greeted with a slight accent. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it sounded a bit southern.

“Hi.” I returned, looking around awkwardly. “Did you need directions or something?”

“No, I was wondering if you need a ride.” He said. “It’s getting late, and it’s not a good idea for a young lady such as yourself to be out when it’s dark.”

“How do I know you’re not a crazy killer?” I asked. “What good is it going to do me getting in a car with a strange man who could potentially be a dangerous murderer?” I asked boldly.

“Jack Damien.” He said.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“That’s my name. Now, if I hurt you, or try to kill you and you get out alive, you’ll know who to report to the police.” He looked around his car for something before his eyes lit up and he grabbed something. He held up his driver’s license, which had Jack Robert Damien written on it. Then he held up a library card with his name printed on the back. “Believe me now?” He asked.

I placed a hand on my hip, thinking. After a few moments I responded. “I guess so.”

“Okay.” He said, pale green eyes even brighter. “Hop in.”

I walked around the car, grasping the cool handle whose paint was pealing off, and opened the door. I tugged on my suitcase and got it in the car before shutting the door. It was weird trusting this stranger, but I got the feeling that he was a good guy.

“So, are you going to introduce yourself, or should I just call you girlie?” He joked.

“Oh, sorry.” I said. “I’m Kat.”

“Where to?” He asked.

“Um…” I thought. “I’m not really sure.” I admitted. “I was just going to walk until I found a place to stay.”

“Are you running away from home?” He asked.

“Sorta.”

“Well, it’s kind of a yes or no question.” He said, eyes darting toward me, then back at the road. “So yes, or no?”

“Well yes, if you consider the place where my family lives ‘home’, but no, if you just consider it a crappy place where I live, which is all it is to me.”

“Oh.” He said. “So you’re one of those teenagers.”

“What teenagers?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

“The ‘I hate my life because everything is so horrible’ type of teenagers.” He explained.

I turned to the window, a tear forming in my eye, not in sadness, but in anger. Who did he think he was, judging me on the spot just like that?

“You just can let me out here.” I said venomously.

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the street, or possibly get murdered. I’d like to help make this world a better place, even by just a little bit if I can help it.” His eyes flicked over to me again, and his expression changed to pity. “Hey, what’s wrong.”

“Just let me out!” I demanded. “If you don’t, I’ll report you to the police for kidnap.”

“You just fine 5 seconds ago!” He said in exasperation. “Do you want me to take you back home? Is that what it is?” His face softened.

“You’re judging me when you don’t even know me.” I said. “I’m so tired of everyone doing that to me!” I nearly shouted.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized, sounding sincere.

“Right.” I said. “Sure you are.” I lifted up my sweater sleeve, exposing the bruises and scars on my forearm. “You see these?” I asked rhetorically. “It’s not like I have an abusive dad or anything.” A hot tear fell down my cheek. “My life isn’t that bad. I just ran away from a perfectly good home for no perfectly good reason, just like all those rich kids, trying to be emo.” Another tear cascaded down my cheek, which turned into a river. “Oh wait, I do have an abusive dad. And I did run away from home for a perfectly good reason.” I sniffled, on the edge of hysteria. I felt kind of bad for going off on this random stranger, but I hadn’t discussed this with anyone, beside a former boyfriend, who just wanted to get in my pants, then dumped me when he found out that I was emotionally unstable. A crappy thing to do, I know.

“I had no idea.” He said, looking at a loss for words.

“Exactly. You had no idea. Which is why you shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.” I turned to him, glaring. “Can you just stop and let me out?” I pleaded.

“Let me make this up to you.” He sounded concerned. “I can’t let you go back home. I can’t let you get abused any more.” I guess he was an okay guy. “You can crash at my place until you can find another place to stay.”

“I don’t think so.” I said. “That seems kind of odd, you know.” I was starting to calm down; I was able to think clearly now. “I just met you like 5 minutes ago.”

“I insist.” He said.

“Well…” I mulled it over for a few minutes. “I guess so.” I said. “But I know karate, so you’d better not mess with me.” I smiled a bit.

“I promise I‘ll behave.” He chuckled. “Are you hungry?” He asked suddenly. “Did you eat before you left?” I wondered to myself how this situation had become so casual. In the five minutes that I’d known this man, I’d told him about my problems, we’d joked around a bit, and now he was asking me if I was hungry.

My stomach suddenly grumbled and my face reddened in embarrassment. “Yeah.” I said.

“Ok.” He said. “We planned on having burgers for dinner, I hope that’s okay with you.”

“We?” I asked. I had never realized that he might have a family.

“My son and I.” He responded. “Chance is probably about your age.”

“I’m 16.” I told him.

“Chance just turned 17 last month.”

Oh goodie.

The rest of the ride lasted about another 10 minutes. When we arrived at his apartment building, my stomach was turning with nerves. I couldn’t believe that I’d actually made it out of that hellhole that I’d been trapped in for all of my 16 years, albeit it was a bit better when my mom was around, but she was no longer.

She used to try to stop my dad from beating me, but she just got in the way and he beat her too. I felt so guilty when she’d get beat for me, but now she was in a better place.

“We’re here.” Jack announced.

“Okay.” I said. “Um, thanks for letting me stay with you. I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.”

I carefully exited the truck, lugging my suitcase behind me. I looked up at the building, taking in the sight before me. I took a deep breath in, before letting it out.

What had I gotten myself into?