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Like an anemic sloth, Toby barely finished the day.
The last school bell sounded, and riding the bus with Raymond and company was not an option.
He planned to walk home through some woods behind the school, but using the front door could expose him to Raymond and company again. Plus, he’d have to walk all the way around the school. The back door is right over there, but that’s off-limits. Why?
Because it’s a rule.
Leaving history class, he started toward the bus area, then turned right as if going to a restroom.
Head up, he acted like he belonged here.
A custodian.
Toby placed his backpack on a table and re-tied a perfectly tied shoelace.
The custodian was still there, so he tied the shoe again. The man finally disappeared into the band room.
A quick sweep of his area showed no teachers.
Don’t run.
He pushed the door open and slipped outside.
Stopping at a wall, he searched for threats.
Nothing.
He walked across the open ground toward the woods, over patches of dead brown grass and hard red clay.
Eyes forward: innocent people don’t check their six.
Every few steps, he picked up the pace.
The afternoon sun, typical for a South Carolina September, weighed on his neck and arms.
Each footstep produced a puff of red dust. Cicadas argued with each other for domination.
Mosquitoes whined in his ears. Pines perfumed the still air.
He ran crossed the last bit of mown grass, and once inside the forest, he looked back.
Still alone.
A faint breeze carried the bus fumes from the parking lot. Faded and cracked letters spelled out ‘South Carolina Public Schools’ on the wheezing vehicles.
Toby pictured King Raymond seated on his throne at the back of the bus, holding court over those unworthy of their peace, freedom, and money.
Thankful to be free, for now, Toby jogged deeper into the forest, picking his way over logs, past brambles, and through thickets toward that trail he found exploring yesterday:
They packed up their clothes five days ago and left that long-stay motel near Lexington, their home for the last two months. Four days ago, they were in SC, at a furniture store, and Mom bought almost everything she saw.
Three days ago, the van arrived and loaded furniture into the new house, and they spent the last two days setting up
Mom paroled Toby last night, and he zigzagged through these woods. He never found the school because of mudholes and the variety of mosquitoes, some as long as his thumbnail.
Now, the trail was no better, but bugs were a smaller, more aggressive mosquito and something called ‘gnats.’ Didn’t bite much, but the tiny menaces liked eyes and ears.
He stopped.
A section over there looked familiar.
Did it?
He’d blundered into a muddy area yesterday. Couldn’t make that mistake again.
The trail disappeared into a thicket.
More mosquitoes and gnats buzzed his ears and attacked his arms.
The vegetation grew thicker with each step.
Several animal trails crisscrossed at irregular intervals.
Nothing looked familiar.
Something slapped overhead. A massive blackbird landed in a tulip poplar.
Something caught his eye: a lighter area in the center of the bird’s black chest, except the spot changed hue as the bird moved between sunlight and shadow.
And the bird was staring at something near Toby.
A rumble of distant thunder encouraged Toby to move. That trail looked good, but mud and foul-smelling muck forced him back.
Was that tree familiar?
His neighborhood was about four miles from school if he rode the bus, but only about a mile through the swamp.
When he faced the setting sun, their house had to be just south of west, but he couldn’t cut across the swampiest parts.
Another blackbird, with the same weird spot, landed overhead.
Dark clouds towered off to the west and blotted out the sun.
The breeze, kissed by the musty smell of rain, hissed through the pines.
Thunder hurried him along.
There, up ahead, that small cedar with the lump on the base.
Toby finally entered that new construction area at the back of his neighborhood.
He followed the red clay road, ready for paving, and a couple of turns later revealed his street and their new house.
A new house.
Not a room in a hotel with two beds.
For the first time in... he didn’t know, Toby didn’t have to share a bed with Chase or bedbugs.
Dad must have landed a fantastic job, but how long would they stay?
A flash of lightning.
His family moved a lot, often suddenly, but only once in the middle of the night. He used to think everyone moved all the time, but apparently not.
Thunder triggered his earliest memory: Chicago, hot, rainy night, in the car. Not going anywhere, just sitting in the car. All his memories from that time include the car.
He remembered that leaky hotel in Lexington, with the smells and the couple who fought every night.
Lightning streaked in the distance., followed by the punch of thunder.
Their last address was that hotel outside Franklin, with the door ten feet from the road. The manager looked at Mom with hungry eyes, and that cop treated Chase like a cat toy.
The wind gusted, and the air became alive with leaves.
A week ago, Dad announced his new job as a project manager for an HVAC company in Florence, SC.
Toby had to Google HVAC and the city.
So Dad went from stocking shelves in a grocery store to designing/installing industrial ventilation systems.
Florence is a small city in a rural state. How does it support dozens of hotels? It’s about halfway between New York and Orlando.
The first fat drops of rain slapped the road.
Toby ran faster and ducked into the garage.
The splatter of heavy drops soon became sheets of rain marching down the street. Leaves swirled and danced until too heavy to fly.
Thunder drove him inside.
***
Mom was on the phone, nothing in her other hand.
“I... I can’t... No... Sorry... Really. I must hang up now. Good day.”
Seeing Toby, she jumped and said, “Oh! Ye gave me such a fright.” She sheathed a knife that appeared in her hand almost by magic, smiled, and gave him a quick hug. “How was school?”
“Fine.”
The lie tasted terrible, but bullies were far from new, and he was not about to mention chest pains.
He strategically changed the subject by opening the refrigerator and pointing at her new cell phone. “Who was that?”
“People from yer school. Always trying to wheedle me into something.”
Looking for a snack, “You used to volunteer at my old school all the-”
“No.”
“But-”
“Won’t make that mistake-” Her eyes widened. “Tobias!”
He followed her gaze to the muddy prints.
“Sorry.” He took off his shoes.
She grabbed some paper towels and pointed upstairs. “Homework.”
“But-”
One raised eyebrow ended the conversation. He slipped off his shoes, placed them in the garage, and headed up the stairs.
Forcing the bedroom door open, he walked around the piles of stuff and pushed another pile of stuff off the bed.
He propped up his head on his pillow, watched funny videos online, and he’d get to the homework.
Later.