I woke up early the next morning. Mom was still snoring with her earplugs in. I took a quick shower, threw a few things in my backpack, and left her this note.
Dear Mom,
First of all, I just want to tell you this is absolutely the last jerky selfish thing I will do for a long, long time. Second of all, thank you for everything you’re doing for G and everything you’ve already done for me. I’m getting on a bus (for real this time) and I’ll meet you guys back in Glens Falls. I might even beat you home, depending on what time they release G. I’m sure you guys will have plenty to talk about on the way home. I can’t explain it exactly, but I really need to come home different than when I left.
I hitched a ride on this adventure with the Freegans, until it became my own. I’m still not sure exactly what I figured out, but I guess I’m hoping the bus ride will give me some time to sort it all out. Tell G I said that. She’ll get what I mean. And I want to come home on my own. See you back in New York.
Love,
Andrew
The bus station is only a few miles down the road from our motel. I’m able to board the first bus to Albuquerque, and using Mom’s credit card I buy a series of tickets that will take me all the way back to Albany and then home to Glens Falls. The sky is turning from pink to a hazy blue, changing all the dusty buildings from a romantic rose color back to the tired sun-beat light brown. I have a seat to myself, but unfortunately someone has stuck gum in the outlet for the headphones. I watch a little bit of Night at the Museum without any sound before taking out my notebook and finishing what I started back in the hospital.
This will not be a list. This will be a real story with all the guts and juicy bits and bitter unrequited endings. I’m going to stare them all down until I know what they mean about my future. Or at least that’s what I hope will happen. At the very least, I’ll have some really good extra credit for Ms. Tuttle.