The Boiling of the Bones

15. Rocky Mountains

"I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you. I don't ever want to see you again. I don't want you in my life anymore. I'm leaving, don't come looking for me."

My mom panicked.

"Honey do something."

I turned and walked away.

My parents backed off but continued following from a distance as they argued in the car. I walked several blocks. It felt weird having them slowly stalk me. I had to get off the road where they couldn't follow, so I turned off the street into a vacant field and cut through tall dry grass, then bushes and trees, down to a walking path along the Provo River. I followed it as it meandered through the center of town.

I had no idea where I was headed I didn't even care, I just had to get away. The trail followed the riverbank through town toward a dead end once it reached a sprawling lake. After several miles, the trail passed under a six-lane highway. I could use it to hitchhike and get away.

I scrambled up the embankment, a ten-foot-tall concrete sound barrier blocked access to the roadway. But there was a break in the barrier where the highway bridge crossed the river. I slipped through the gap and over a Jersey barrier onto the shoulder of the road. I stuck out my thumb hoping to catch a ride.

I walked slowly along the highway for about a mile before a girl roughly my age stopped.

"Where you headed?"

I had no idea, so I pointed straight ahead.

"That way."

She laughed.

"How far are you going?"

"As far as you can take me."

"All the way to California?"

"Yep, to California."

"I can take you as far as Cedar City."

I had no idea where that was.

"Sounds great. I'd really appreciate it."

I was incredibly anxious to get off the road before my parents happened to drive by or before the cops stopped me for hitchhiking. I assumed they'd be looking for me, although I wasn't an escaped fugitive, there was no underestimating what my parents were capable of and they'd certainly have, someone, out looking for me. They'd probably even try to get my picture on the news as a missing person and enlist the public's help in finding me. I had to quickly get out of town, the farther I got, the safer I'd be.

The girl was friendly. Her name was Angie, she was from a place called Logan—I had no idea where that was either. I just nodded. If I asked about it, she might become suspicious. She was chatty, and I let her do all the talking, only politely answering her questions with as little information about me as possible. I only told her my name was Oliver, I was from New York, I liked to play the guitar and wanted to be a musician. That was about it.

She went to college at Southern Utah University. From her conversation, I deducted that Cedar City was in Southern Utah. I didn't know my geography very well, but I saw a sign indicating we were southbound on Interstate 15 which I assumed headed for Los Angeles. It would be a different direction toward the bay area in northern California.

A few miles later, a road sign indicated we were three hundred sixty-six miles, less than five hours, from Las Vegas. Perfect. From there I'd have more options. As we drove, I ran through various scenarios in my head as I crafted a plan.