The day before our escape I remembered Dirty Joe. I knew he'd be worried about me if I didn't fill him in. I decided to write him a letter explaining everything. So I got a pen and a notepad and went into the toilet and locked the door and wrote the letter. It took ages.
Dear Joe,
Im dredfally sorry but we escaped. You probaly no by now and Im dredfally sorry. Ill right to you I promise. When Im done Ill mail your book because Im not finished it. I hope you dont get in truble for us escaping. Dont wory about us well be OK.
Love Ben
Now all I had to do was find a place to leave it.
Dirty Joe lived at Crapper during the week. I didn't know where he went on weekends. He'd arrive each Monday morning in an old black car and it wouldn't move all week. He never locked it. I decided I'd leave the letter in his car. I'd do it just before we escaped. It would be easy.
The night of our escape came. I could hardly eat my dinner because my stomach felt like it was full of snakes. Luckily everyone was having a food fight and nobody took any notice of me. I glanced over at Sophie and our eyes met and we both looked quickly away again.
After dinner I went back to the dorm and lay down and tried to read the rabbit book, but I kept reading the same bit over and over so I gave up. When the lights went out I lay there in the dark. Soon I could hear faint snores from the other beds. My heart was going like crazy – it seemed loud enough to wake them up. I tried not to look at my glow-in-the-dark wristwatch. It was unbearable.
By ten thirty I couldn't stand it any more. I swung my legs out of bed and sat there for a while listening to the dorm. Then I quietly packed my bag and got dressed. I didn't have much to pack – just some clothes and my alarm clock and Dirty Joe's book. I had five bucks. Dirty Joe's letter was in my jeans pocket. I walked out of the dorm in my socks, carrying my shoes in my hand.
When I got outside I put my shoes on. There was no moon, but I could see the shape of Dirty Joe's car in the car park. I hurried across to it, looked around, then opened the driver's side door. No light came on – it must have been broken. I silently thanked Dirty Joe for not fixing his light. The car smelled like someone had smoked a million cigarettes in there.
I wanted to leave the letter on the speedo where he'd be sure to see it, but to reach the speedo I'd have to get inside the car. It was as I sat down in the driver's seat that I looked across at the passenger side and saw a glowing red dot. It took me a moment to realise what it was.
"Close the door," Dirty Joe said.
Shit, I thought.
I closed the door.
"Is that for me?" he said.
He was talking about the letter. "No," I said. I didn't like lying to Dirty Joe, but I couldn't think what else to say. "What're you doing here?" I said, trying to buy time to think how I was going to get out of this.
I could see Dirty Joe's shape in the passenger seat. When he put the cigarette in his mouth his eyes reflected the cigarette end and made them look red. "Felt like having a smoke." The cigarette end brightened when he breathed in, then died sleepily when he breathed out his nose. I didn't know why he'd want to smoke in his car: it was a nice night outside.
He patted the dashboard the way people pat a dog. "This car's as old as I am. Mum used to drive me around in it. Then Dad died, and she forgot how to drive."
Can someone forget how to drive? I thought.
I wondered why Dirty Joe hadn't asked me why I was in his car yet. I wondered if he was working his way up to it. I looked at my watch. Five to eleven. Shit.
"She didn't understand," Dirty Joe whispered, as if I wasn't there. "She didn't realise that you can't stay."
I had no idea what he was talking about. I liked Dirty Joe a lot, but right then I wanted to get out of the car. Right then he was scaring me.
Then he coughed, and when he spoke again his voice was back to normal. "You're leaving," he said simply.
I didn't say anything.
"Can I read it?"
He meant the letter of course. The game was up – what choice did I have? I handed it to him.
He opened the glovebox and pulled out a little torch and put it between his teeth so that he could see the letter. I sat there without a sound. When he'd finished reading he switched the torch off again.
"Well that's it then," I snarled.
"Benny -"
"That's it, isn't it? We have to stay in this shitty place."
"I'm not stopping you from leaving."
"Yeh right."
He shook his head in the dark. "You want to get out of here, you do that. I won't tell a soul. Stay off the streets though. I know a place you can go, where you'll be safe."
I looked across at the shape in the dark. I couldn't believe what he was saying.
He wrote something on a scrap of paper from the glovebox, then folded it twice and gave it to me. I put it in my pocket without reading it.
"I'll miss you Benny."
I hugged him then, and he was just plain old Dirty Joe again, all rough and tobacco-smelling and bony like a rabbit.