Cactus Wren

Chapter Two - Welcome to Tucson

~ Five Years Earlier ~

I'm staring down at the slip of paper in my hand, studying the words over and over.

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Greyhound Busline: 1 Adult
Departing: Charleston, SC
Destination: San Diego, CA
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My father's last words to me repeat over and over in my head but my tears have long dried up.

"You're dead to me. I no longer have a daughter."

I had looked at my mother after he said that, hoping to find support but when I searched into the eyes that usually mirrored my own, they were dull and lifeless. She didn't speak a word, only turning away to stare out the window that overlooked the yard. Not long after that, I shoved whatever I could into a duffle bag and pocketed every last penny I had, I also swiped my mother's ID from her purse before heading out to the nearest bus station. I used her ID and spent over half my money on the ticket out to San Diego. I figured an entire country between us would help heal the new hole torn in my chest.

I knew they wouldn't look for me. They would make excuses to their friends of why I wasn't around because having me disappear was less of an embarrassment then having me around. There wasn't really anyone I'd miss at school, I had discovered that they weren't really my friends. I couldn't really depend on any of them. I had teammates and knew a few popular people who threw parties at people's houses but we didn't really hang out. I was just invited because I was a cheerleader, but I wasn't even that anymore. I wasn't anything anymore.

"You're dead to me..."

I'm on my own now.

I hear the overhead intercom announce my bus was now loading in bay 6. I bend down and pick up my bag, throwing it over my shoulder I follow the line of people heading for the bus bay. I duck my head down and adjust my scarf to cover the lower half of my face. I show the driver my ticket and climb the bus and pass the other travelers, quickly finding my seat. Luckily I have the pair of seats to myself, there are several college age people, a young mom with a crying child and a few older men. Everyone mostly keeps to themselves. I curl up into the seats and stare out my window, saying one last silent goodbye to the place I've called home for the past sixteen years.

. o O o .

It's been two days of smelly bus and bus patrons. We just stopped in Tucson, AZ for my last bus transfer before making the last nine hour stretch of my journey to San Diego. I'm looking forward to the ocean. I've never seen the Pacific Ocean and I wonder if I'll see jellyfish or whales.

The bus station is decorated with holiday tinsel and paper cut-out snowflakes, reminding me of the season. I was supposed to be spending the holidays with my parents, and then my 17th birthday three weeks later, but now I didn't have a family.

"... I no longer have a daughter."

Looking at the clock I see I have another hour to wait before boarding. I grab some free local paper to read while I wait and I curl up into the uncomfortable hard chair of the bus terminal. My eye skim through articles about local cuisine and recent festivals, upcoming events and what local band is playing at what downtown bar. The terminal is full of noise from passengers and overhead music, the buzz starts to feel like a lullaby and I feel myself start to doze off.

"Bus 1403 to San Diego now boarding in bay 2!"

The announcement echoing from the speakers startled me and I sit up rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I realize they were just calling for my bus and I jump up from my seat and scramble to collect my bag. I pull out my ticket, getting it ready for boarding and grab my coat and scarf. Just as I'm buttoning my coat a small boy runs past and swipes up my duffle bag and bolts for the exit.