PeaceHood

Chapter 4: A Flight to San Francisco

Sitting in the car with what's-her-face is awkward. For the first time, I managed to get out of Satan's hellhole without ever having to lie in front of Ms. Caroline.

The inside of the car smells like Taco Bell, gray fabric softens underneath my bottom as my eyes watched broken dreams flew past me.

As I gaze out the window, I listen to my music while Melissa is driving down the road. Almost everything is packed in my suitcases, except Cleo's IPod.

As always, it's snugged inside my jeans pocket. On the road, I often listen to Nas, but there are times when I hear Grandmaster Flash in clubs.

When I was twelve, Cleo took me to see Grandmaster Flash play in some hip hop club right where bodyguards stood in front of the red velvet ropes.

While Ben was sleeping, we would sneak into the club through the back door. I remember Slick Snake was the most popular club in the century.

A lot of famous musicians even went there, like James Brown, Grandmaster Flash, and other celebrities.

Anyway, we watched Grandmaster perform music with vinyl records and DJ equipment. While men wore their finest suits, women wore skimpy dresses.

I remember Cleo screaming loudly when Grandmaster appeared on stage, so did many others.

"So Seth," Melissa began. "Whatcha listening to?"

"Music," I answered.

To be honest, I did feel bad for Melissa. Up until now, she hasn't smoke, cussed in front of me, or touched my body parts.

But still, I didn't trust this woman; is she clean or is she playing dirty?

"I know you're listening to music," Melissa said.

"What genre are you listening to? Classic? Pop?"

"Hip-hop," I replied. "I also like listening to clean rap."

A confused look appeared on her face. "You listen to rap?"

"Clean rap," I repeated. "As long as it scratches out bad words."

"You do know you can't listen to that music, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "That's why I listen to 90s hip hop."

Melissa turned away from her gaze to look at me.

"Does your social worker know about this?"

I shrugged my shoulders up and down. Ms. Caroline usually lets me do whatever I want, as long as I don't screw up.

Sighing, she turn to face the road.

"What else do you do?" she asked.

"I play on computers," I said simply. "From time to time, I work as a newspaper delivery boy, and I give clothes to the homeless."

"How charitable," Melissa complimented.

"Thanks." I said dryly.

"We're taking a plane to California, it's where I live." Melissa explained, earning her a look from me.

"Wait," I began, disposing my ear buds. "What do you mean California?"

"Like San Francisco, California?"

She nodded happily.

I can finally meet Ben, I thought happily.

Thinking about San Francisco makes me think of my older brother.

I couldn't wait to see him.

The minute we showed up in the airport, I took my two suitcases out of the trunk and raced into the airport while Melissa called someone on the phone.

I hurried over to the reception desk and waited for Melissa to show up. The light hung below the gray soft tiles.

People walked past as they carried their luggage to the blue chairs, only some of them stood and wait for their plane to show up.

As soon as Melissa is finished speaking on the phone, she hurries to the airport, takes my hand, and went through hell to get inside the plane.

After checking our suitcases, the security guards nod in approval as I took them from the conveyor belt and headed off to the plane. But before I stepped inside, I notice Melissa wasn't there.

"Melissa?" I called. "Melissa, where are you?"

I checked for until I saw her walking away from the plane.

Where the hell is she going? I wondered. Maybe she didn't want to come with me.

"Hey kid, someone asked. "Are you coming inside or not?"

Reluctantly, I gave Melissa one last look before going inside the plane.

Getting past rowdy strangers is a pain, but I am able to get my suitcases inside the compartment above me and made myself comfortable in the blue passenger seat.

Smoothing my copper hair, the plane waited for everyone to sit down before it took off.

The plane rustled anxiously, like a terrified leaf. A heavy wind pierced through the chunk of white metal, but it suddenly stopped when tiny clouds formed into a massive white puddle.

Just when I was seeing the view, something buzzed into my pocket.

I carefully put my hand into my pocket and pulled out a brand new cellphone.

It is a apple phone with a nice red cover, showing off its apple tattoo. On the front is a dark screen showing numerous apps.

Is this Melissa's? I wondered.

Just then, the cellphone rang, causing passengers to look in my way.

"Sorry," I say, but my thumb pressed the Answer Call button.

"Hello?" I said.

I pressed my ear against the phone and waited for someone to answer.

That's when an English voice appeared:

"Hey Seth," he beamed.

"What took you so long?"

I looked at the phone in shock.

"Ben?" I baffled.

"Did Melissa gave you the phone?" he asked.

I scratched my hair in confusion.

"I guess so," I replied. "How do you know where I-"

"I anonymously hired a professional actress to take you to California." Ben answered.

"What?" I shrieked, earning a couple of stares.

"I knew you lived in Ms. Caroline's house," he explained.

"So I hired a professional actress online, Melissa took you out of the house, and while you were in the airport, I transferred the fifty bucks from my foster mom's account to Melissa's."

"Wow," I whistled. "You would do that for me?"

"What if Ms. Caroline finds out?"

"She won't," Ben promised. "Before I gave her the money, I told Melissa to go to Vermont and lay low."

"Wow," I repeated.

"We'll continue our conversation later," Ben insisted.

"Until then, enjoy your flight."