The Girl Who Kept Running

9. The Girl Who Took A Leap and the Boy Who Ran Circles

23 September, 2050

She decided to give herself up to her fate.

What should she resist for? Nobody would wait for her, no one would keep a candle lit on the window ledge, might she return one day.

What's the use of putting up a fight, if your body has no fight left in it and if your life has no one to fight for?

"Have you lost your way?"

The voice was uneasy and gruff, masculine, but it didn't have a lurking threat.

She raised her head. A cool breeze hit the wet trails on her cheek which reddened as she registered the moisture. Tsk, tsk. Such a sign of weakness in such a self-entitled tough cookie.

"What's the problem? Lost your way? Hitch a ride with me if you can tell me where to drop you."

She stared for so long at the middle-aged man standing before her, he must have thought she had frozen.

"Hello! Anybody home?" The man had spoken with irony, with one curled up corner of his mouth.

He was of middling height, of a stodgy built, the puffed skin of his neck pudgy with abuse of the bottle. But that must have been his history or a back-home habit, for he had no signs of anything liquor then. He was ungroomed and gave an icky unwashed vibe. She winced but very subtly. She could only imagine him as Uncle Fester.

What should she tell him though?

"See, I'm about to leave and my home is a few hours away from here. And then I've to be back here by seven in the morning." He flicked his head in the direction of the next lot that housed a shed like structure with some company's logo on it.

The look in her eyes was still glazed even as she tried to focus on the company logo. Why was she trying to focus on the company logo? And why did everything seemed to be treading at a snail's pace inside her head?

"So I better get going then." The man turned and it was the note of impatience in his voice and in his hurried shuffle along the floor that turned her head.

"Wait." Her instinct of self-preservation finally kicked in. The man stopped and faced her again.

"Where are you going?"

The man blew air up at the sky, ruffling the mop on his head further and replied with a perfect eye-roll:

"I told ya. Heading home."

"Home where?" She was pleased as the note of irony appeared in her voice this time. It was a sign she was back from the dead.

"If you wanna hitch a ride, jump on my bike and I'll tell you where." The man had flicked a thumb towards Dequindre Road where a battered Yamaha could be seen parked on the opposite side.

"You must be kidding, right? You're going to tell me where you're headed and then give me time to make up my mind."

Both the girl and the man were clearly surprised at the note of authority in her voice, though she hid hers well. Only time would tell how much she had aged this day. To continue with the theme, she took two firm steps forward, placed her feet just that apart on the concrete, and slowly but surely folded her arms across her chest.

"So, tell me where."

The man seemed taken aback, as if she had grown a cape and was ready for takeoff.

"K-Kalamazoo." His tongue had caught on itself for the split of a second.

She made up her mind. He may have ulterior motives in inviting her but his moral fiber was not the only thing weak about him.