Robert Frost was a great man and poet. He wrote about things all humans could understand; desperation to achieve, to be different, and find our way through this complicated thing called life in one piece. Maybe it’s not very individualistic of me to call him one of my favorite poets. But I would be lying if I said he wasn’t.
One of his most famous poems is called The Road Not Taken, in which Frost writes that two roads diverged in a yellow wood. He went on a short walk down both, being undecided on which he should take. And still when he came back to the part where they forked, he was still undecided and perhaps even more torn. I guess Frost was feeling risky that day, because he chose the road less traveled by.
For a society of followers that we live in today, such a decision seems really quite... stupid. People who take less traveled roads may end up getting lost, driving longer, or not end up where they want to. But sometimes those rare places that have not been trodden by the feet of industrialism, are much prettier. And those risky decisions made with two seconds of bravery, well, they often make all the difference.
I figure that most girls would have seen the boy in front of them; how perfectly he smiles when he’s truly happy, the flop of his hair and the adoration in his eyes. And they would have said to hell with their goals and to hell with uncertainty and risks.
But that would have made me like most girls.
No, I didn’t agree right away to leave. I fought back and tried to lie to him and myself that it would have been better if I would have stayed and never tried to leave. I’d wager we sat and talked for more than an hour before I decided. Warren wouldn’t let me go, wouldn’t let me shrink into myself and push him away. I thought about how nothing in my life really meant anything to me for years. I did well in school because doing badly meant free time and people breathing down my back. All I ever did was run away to find her. I thought about Robert Frost. And I agreed to leave that night because Warren wanted me to, because he’s a good person. I still didn’t want to leave him, though.
As I packed a few essentials in a backpack, I forcefully told Warren, “You’re coming with me.”
“No, I'm not.”
“Why not?”
He sighed but didn’t get frustrated with my persistent arguing. “I’ll get us both caught. I’m not the espionage type. You know that.”
I threw a long-sleeved shirt at the bag harder than I needed to and began to mumble under my breath. “After we just got together, I’m leaving, and you’re making me go!” The words came out louder with my anger. It was simply ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.
“I’m making you see sense, Charlie! You need to do this or you’ll regret it.” His arms were crossed and I could think of a hundred different ways I could have disabled him with just the jacket on my back, but I was afraid to cross him again.
I whispered this time, finally admitting another reason why I was so scared to go. “What if she’s not there?”
He didn’t respond.
“I have no more leads and no way of getting them. What if I get caught before I can even reach the address?”
“You’re too good for that.”
“What if she moved?”
“You’ll find her again.”
“It’s not that simple!” I yelled, my anger untamable. I threw the useless old backpack down on the floor like a child. I wanted to kick it and tear it apart.
The wretched piece of fabric had taken me all across the country, survived the torrents of rain in Seattle, the heat of Miami, and the straps held strong every time I’d been on the run, hurling my body over fenceposts and through alleys. It was my getaway weapon, and I absolutely hated what it stood for in that moment. The selfish Charlie, the loner, the robot who had nothing to lose and no one to hold her together. And I hated how strong it had stayed throughout the years, just like I had. Because that kind of strength is nothing to be admired. It’s riddled with regret and pain buried deep down that can never be forgotten.
I wanted to rip it to shreds.
“I know that!” Warren bellowed. I could see what my arguing was doing to him. This was just as hard for him as it was for me. But Warren was putting himself up as the sacrificial lamb, and it was hard to let him when I didn’t deserve it.
“God, Warren. I know our lives are both fucked up, but you don’t know. There are a million different things that can go wrong, okay? What if she died, what if I never get to see her because we get caught? And then I never get to see you, either. Ever again. I can’t take that.” I was still trying to scream at him, but my resistance was fading into sadness as I tried desperately to hide my true emotions.
“I won’t let that happen.”
I had seen many sides of Warren; annoyed, seductive, caring, joyful. But in that moment, he scared me. His life had been toyed with and tossed around uncaringly. Everyone reaches the end of their rope at some point, and I was the end of his.
I didn’t say anything, trying to comprehend the anger in his eyes just as they softened.
“Why are you so worried?” He squinted at me the way an artist looks at his painting, still trying to understand what in the in the world he’d created.
“Worried?” I breathed. “I’m terrified. I’m terrified that I won't get there in time, that she’s gone or dead or disappeared, I’m scared of what happens after, what’s going to happen to you after they find out I’m gone. What if all of it was in vain? What if—”
Warren silenced me the only way he could, kissing me until I shut up, hugging me tightly until I calmed down. I buried my head into his chest and tried to forget it all.
Close your eyes. Trust.
With his lips close to my ear and our arms wrapped around each other he whispered, “You have to try.”
He released my shaking body to finish putting my things I’d thrown to the ground in the bag. I began methodically moving around, wrapping my unruly hair in a tight band. I was silent as I let his words and actions wash over me, knowing he was right. I took one last glance over the apartment and did a mental count of all I had, and all I would need.
“Ready?” Warren interrupted, slung the bag over his own shoulder, and poised to leave.
My lips dragged into a thin line. I knew this wouldn’t be the same as all of the other times I’d run away. My body felt heavier and much more tense as his voice ran in my ear like the echo of a tunnel. I glanced one last time at the apartment I’d lived one day in, and knew it had already been too long.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Warren lead me back to the same escape tunnel undetected for the second time that day, but this time I knew why. Most of the security assigned to the White House was at the Congressional Gala downtown, where Warren would be if he wasn’t ‘grounded’. I guess his parents thought making him stay home was more of a punishment than actually going. Apparently, this gala had more teenage girls than the last, so his parents presumed he would have enjoyed it. If they only knew their own son.
We started off walking in the dark, but I think it started to get to me. I could never make a slow escape; it just wasn’t in me to take my time leaving. I started to pick up pace, and soon we were running together in the immense black tunnel.
Turns out, it was a good thing we ran. The visitor’s center was closing in fifteen minutes and there was just enough people to slip by without being questioned. I could have sworn the girl cleaning up the cafe tables stared as we left. But I didn’t look back—no time.
It felt just like the day when Warren and I had to run from Porter. In my mind I could hear his heavy footsteps behind us, and feel his searching eyes. My body shook when I thought of what he’d said to me, how he knew.
“You’ll take the subway to Georgetown, just to get out of city limits. That’s what we decided, wasn’t it? And from there you can find a train or interstate bus. I don’t know if I got you enough money for a taxi ride there. And don’t you dare hijack a car, please?” Warren rambled on as we went down the flights of stairs to the subway and paid the fee, though he wouldn’t be riding. I think he was trying to prolong the goodbye, or just not think about it.
“I’ll figure it out, don’t worry,” I tried to assure, reaching for the old backpack Warren had slung over his shoulder. Together, we had packed it as full as I would allow. With only about two changes of clothes and some money, I was a true runaway.
“I’m gonna worry.”
I sighed audibly. He was practically pushing me out the door no matter how much it hurt. Why not just dress him up in tin foil and say he’s my Knight In Shining Armor?
“Your job isn’t to worry, okay? You’re supposed to sit in your room and mope like a good boy and act like you know nothing. I don’t want to leave you dangling over a river of alligators.” I paused to look at him and even more forcefully said, “Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself.”
That was one of my main worries with leaving him behind: after my disappearance he would be the first one they would question. Every move he’d made would be under scrutiny. Because I don’t leave trails behind when I run away from school. I don’t make friends who know my habits or have roommates who are responsible. Warren was the first trail I’d ever leave, and I didn’t know how the agency would handle a lead like that.
Warren laced the backpack from his shoulder to around both of mine, letting his hands rest on my arms for a few beats longer than necessary. I think all day we had been so close to each other because every time we were together, we were worried it was the last time. Without a moment to waste, we lived every single second like it was our last. Affectionate and eternal beyond what teenagers should be capable of. We deserved better. But I would have done anything to make our Shakespeare story end differently. United we go down together, separated we stand.
Warren seemed to mirror my thoughts. “I’ll cut you a deal, I worry about you, and you worry about me.”
I launched myself at him and squeezed tight. “Deal.”
I could only describe the way he smelled in so many words, smokey cinnamon. In fact, the more I got to know Warren, the harder it was to put him into words. As hard as it was to describe what being with him felt like, missing him was harder. Because even in his arms, I already began to miss him.
The great whooshing noise filled the underground space, like a small tornado was pulling onto the tracks instead of a train. I knew fate couldn’t be on our side, and it was the one I had to take. I had to get out of there while the chance was still open.
I didn’t let go, so Warren felt obligated. He pulled back and gave me a deep and bitter sweet kiss, crushing my trembling lips with his, my face cradled gently in his hands. It was such a change from his hug when Warren let his emotions show and constricted the air out of my lungs. I felt the same way I had when he’d kissed me like that in front of the Lincoln Memorial. Not wanting it to end, and ensured that we wouldn’t end. He pulled back eventually, making it much too short, and then squeezed me quickly.
The whole thing sent me into a whirlwind. I shut my eyes tight and tried to enjoy the moment. Next thing I knew I was inside, grasping onto a pole while the doors closed and the subway began to pull away. Warren waved to me a small wave as the train began its steady departure, farther and farther away until he disappeared altogether.
I collapsed down onto one of the many open red polyester- bound seats and pulled the pack into my lap.
I whispered to myself, “I thought you said I didn’t have to be alone anymore,” as the car shook and rolled, immediately feeling the space beside me where he could have been.
The sun had already set on Georgetown, but streams of light as well as streetlights kept it glowing. Immediately the paranoia set in. I didn’t trust any street corner, magazine vendor, or old lady who sat next to me. I take the uneasy feelings as an occupational hazard. It always seems like the second life gets comfortable, your world gets shaken up like a snowglobe so nothing is ever the same. I wouldn’t let that happen.
I took the subway system farther out of the city, riding random cars for hours. Getting off and then getting on. I tried to be aware of any face around me. I was just searching for someone, just one agent to ruin everything. I didn’t find any.
Eventually my twists and turns and riding left me exhausted and car-sick. I rode one line out to the edge of town. Out in the open air, it felt like I’d hardly left D.C. Some cities may never sleep, but all cities seem like they never end.
It was late at night, and the only businesses still open were twenty-four hour convenience stores and fast food chain drive-throughs. I was careful to be unnoticeable as I walked down the blocks alone, aware that nothing good ever happens after ten o’clock. There was a gas station convenience store that was lit up on the corner. I picked up my pace and stepped inside, feeling instantly relieved.
Agents may not want to admit it, but every mission has a luck-factor. The marginal area of success that is unexplainable and made on assumptions. Like an ice cream truck parked on a corner that is the perfect stakeout location. Or even a well-stocked local costume shop that makes changing identities that much easier. My luck-factor was that gas station.
The chiming bells on the door should have alerted the overworked cashier that a new customer had arrived, and that late at night, he should have looked at my face and wondered why I was there. But he gave a half-hearted and sleepy wave, a line of drool dribbling down his chin.
Out of any items the owner could have stocked the shelves with, he featured an array of easy, cheap hair dye. The boxes were covered in dust and cheaper than water, only one box left of each color. One box was all I needed.
The rushing water in the bathroom should have woken him up again, but it didn’t. Fumes spewed out from under the door and too many paper hand towels were thrown away and discarded in the trash. Who takes an hour in a bathroom, anyway?
And maybe when I slapped the counter to buy my granola bars, sunglasses, and energy drinks, sleepy cashier man should have noticed that my hair went from stark black to almost blonde. He probably would have noticed if he was conscious enough to remember the hour before. He also gave me the wrong change back, which is why I wasn’t guilty for not paying for the hair dye.
I gave him a polite nod and a goodbye, his eyes drooping closed again before I even stepped out the door. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear for the third time. My hair had grown out on its own in the months when I had neglected getting it cut, but the new blond mess came down a little longer than my shoulders. It looked like I had let a three year old cut my hair. I could cross beautician off my list of possible careers.
Outside, I pulled Warren’s hoodie tighter around myself, gripping the sleeves to work like gloves. The can fizzed when I opened and began guzzling the caffeine and sugar. I had to get away that night, at least to Baltimore. The granola bars made the pocket in my front sag and bump my legs as I walked along down the deserted street, casting sideways glances at any signs of movement.
Down a few blocks was a bus stop illuminated by one of few working street lamps. I chugged down more liquid sugar and quickened my pace. After sitting down on the waiting bench, I snacked on some granola bars and fiddled with my hair, running my hands through it and gauging if it felt any different after I dyed it.
I waited patiently for any bus to arrive that would take me farther north, closer to Delaware. It would have been so much easier to take a boat across the Chesapeake, but in a game of Hide ‘N Seek, easy is never advised.
I tried not to think too much about what Warren could be doing at that moment, because even though he was most likely sleeping, my mind was more creative than reality. Eventually a bus came and I got on, paid the toll, and took a seat near the back by myself. Wherever it took me was where I was going. I really hoped my luck kept up because as positive as I’d tried to be, even I knew the odds were not in my favor.
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This is a change of events, eh? What do you think will happen next? Is Charlie worried for nothing?
Song off to the side is one of my personal favorites :)
Thanks for reading! (and patiently waiting for updates)
<3 Emily