I sat in the back of Josh’s Jeep. The top was up. Josh put it on before we left, thinking about the long, cross-country drive we had ahead of us. Jenna stared straight ahead at the highway in front of her. I’m not sure she was thrilled about my coming with, but she agreed to let me tag along anyway. She was on a mission. Josh looked relaxed as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel. Nobody said anything for a while.
We started out on 1-94, heading east. We had been gone for a half hour. The skylines of Minneapolis and St. Paul were firmly behind us. As we traveled over the St. Croix River into Hudson, Wisconsin, it became clear to me what I had done. I was already grounded for lying to Dad. I was going on a road trip without permission. I would be missing a ton of school. What would he do to me after this?
I sat quietly in the back seat going over every possible scenario as the Wisconsin farmland passed by. I might not ever leave the house again. I might not ever leave my own room again. I might never play baseball again. Jenna’s determined gaze said nothing of the punishment she might face. Getting to Mom was her first priority—her only priority. The only voices in the car came from the radio.
Josh had it turned to National Public Radio. They had some politicians on. One was a Democrat and the other was a Republican. They were debating about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
I listened carefully, but I didn’t understand anything they were talking about. Should the soldiers stay? Should they be pulled out? I didn’t get the arguments they were making. I didn’t know how anyone could understand the politics of it all. All I knew was that people were dying. People were getting hurt. I had seen the pictures, read the articles. My mom was one of them. The answer to “should the soldiers be pulled out?” seemed obvious to me.
It was a couple of hours before our silence was broken. “Anybody hungry?” asked Josh. It was almost 7:00 and my stomach felt empty. I hadn’t even noticed until he brought it up.
“I am,” I said.
“Sure,” said Jenna not taking her eyes off the road. We pulled into a Subway about an hour outside of Madison. As we filed out of the Jeep, it dawned on me that I didn’t have any money. I hadn’t exactly thought through the “road trip” thing.
Josh and Jenna got in line, but I hung back a bit, staring at the menu. “You don’t have any money, do you?” asked Jenna. The right corner of her mouth raised a bit—her classic “Jenna smirk.”
“No, not really,” I said. There was no “really” about it. I had no money.
“Come up here,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But you owe me,” she said with a chuckle.
“How do you guys have enough money to do this?” I asked after we sat down with our food.
“My parents gave me a credit card for my birthday,” Josh mumbled, chomping on a huge bite of his sandwich. “I’m only supposed to use it for emergencies. I think this qualifies.” He smiled at Jenna and she smiled back at him.
“Do your parents know what we are doing?” It suddenly occurred to me that Josh might be taking as big a risk as we were.
“Well, I was very up front with them,” he said. “I told them exactly what we were doing. No lies. They weren’t crazy about the idea, but after some smooth talking on my part, they finally agreed to let me go. Actually, I didn’t completely tell the truth. They don’t know that your dad doesn’t know.”
I nodded, grateful that Josh was so willing to put his neck on the line for us. “So, how long does it take to get to Washington, D.C.?” I asked.
“I’ve got a GPS on my phone,” said Josh. “It looks like it will take about nineteen hours.”
“Are we gonna stay somewhere on the way?” I wondered. Jenna looked at Josh and shrugged.
“Not sure,” she said. “We’ll play it by ear.”
As I gobbled up the rest of my Subway Melt, Jenna’s cell phone rang. Her ring was unmistakable. She had downloaded the Dave Matthews song, “Satellite.” She took the phone out of her purse, looked at the number, and then showed it to me. It was Dad calling. My heart started beating a little faster and my palms got clammy. Jenna had a curious look on her face. “Should I answer it?” she asked.
“He’s gonna find out. We might as well tell him what we’re doing.” Better she tell him than me, I thought. If she didn’t answer, my phone would ring next.
She answered her phone. “Hello?” she said tentatively. I could hear Dad’s static voice from my seat. I stared at my empty bag of chips as I listened.
“Where are you two?” Dad yelled.
“We’re going to see Mom. Josh is driving us.” She sounded confident, like she didn’t care what Dad thought. Josh finished eating his sandwich, not concerned that he had just been implicated in the crime.
“You’re doing what? No, you are not driving across the country. You need to turn around right now and come home. You’re in a heap of trouble. And how could you get Tim involved in this?”
“Don’t blame me for that! He asked to come. I didn’t pull him into this.” Then I heard those dreaded words. “Is he there? Let me talk to him.”
“Okay. Here he is.” Jenna handed me the phone. “He wants to talk to you,” she said.
I had gone over the conversation a million times in my head while we drove, but once the phone was in front of me I had no idea what to say. My heart beat even faster and I swear I got a little dizzy. “Hi, Dad.” I tried to ease the tension as much as I could.
“Timothy, I’m very disappointed in you right now. What made you think you could go on a road trip across the country without my permission? Not to mention the trouble you are already in for lying to me about staying at Seth’s. Why haven’t you answered your phone? I’ve been worried sick. It was very selfish of both of you.”
I pulled out my phone and realized that I had turned it off before I was supposed to go to baseball practice. In all the excitement, I had never turned it back on. Dad continued his rant and I sat and listened. As mad as he was, he wasn’t making me explain anything, which made things easier. “I told your sister that you both need to come home immediately, so I expect both of you to walk through this door in a couple of hours, understand?”
“Yeah, Dad. I understand.”
“Okay, let me talk to Jenna again.” I handed her the phone and watched as she rolled her eyes, sighing. Dad’s voice had calmed a bit, so I couldn’t hear everything he said. Jenna was older. She was supposed to be the responsible one. I’m sure that was what he was telling her.
Josh had been silent throughout the phone call. I wondered what his parents thought of our adventure. I thought it was interesting that they seemed to be more understanding about it than our own Dad.
Jenna put the phone back in her purse. She looked into Josh’s eyes. “I’m not going back.”
“It’s up to you. You’ll have to deal with it when we get back, but I’ll keep going if you want.” He was so calm, so relaxed.
Jenna looked at me. “I’m not going back,” she said as if I hadn’t heard. “Maybe we can find a bus or something if you want to, but I’m going to see Mom. You have to decide.”
A bus? Sitting on a Greyhound with a bunch of dirty, loud, smelly strangers was less appealing than the wrath of Dad.
I had gone to visit my grandparents on a Greyhound about a year earlier. They lived in Brainerd. My dad didn’t like the idea of me going alone, but Mom insisted. She thought it would be good for me to do something like that on my own.
I sat next to a creepy looking guy with long, greasy hair. He smelled a little bit like corned beef-the packaged kind, not the fresh, deli kind. The only thing he said to me the whole three-hour trip was, “Do you like donuts? I like donuts.” I spent the rest of the trip slammed up against the window, keeping as much space as possible between me and “Donut Guy.”
As Jenna and Josh finished their food, I thought deeply about what I had gotten myself into. I was in deep enough trouble as it was, but now Dad had officially ordered me home. If I didn’t go now, I probably wouldn’t live to see the eighth grade. But then I thought of Mom lying in that hospital bed. Alone. Hurting. If it were me, she would come. I was certain of that. She wouldn’t hesitate. We needed to be together again. The war wasn’t going to get in the way anymore. Plus, when Mom was better, Dad would forgive us, right?
“I’m going with you,” I finally said.