When I looked back, Trudy was watching me.
“How old are you?”
“Why?”
“You just seem awfully young to be traveling the country alone.”
“It’s because I’m so little. I’m actually twenty-one.” Close enough anyway. I laughed at the surprise on her face. A reallaugh. I never tired of seeing the look on people’s faces when I told them how old I was.
My size came in handy with what we did. Val hadn’t wanted to bring me in when she did, but she couldn’t deny I could get into places she couldn’t.
I still remembered the first time. I was only fourteen. A woman had come to Val for help. Val had a plan to meet her for lunch, but when her husband showed up, Val couldn’t get near her.
But I could.
“Excuse me,” I said, tugging on the skirt of the woman Val was supposed to meet. She didn’t know I’d followed her. But when I saw the woman with her husband, I knew Val needed help.
“Yes?” The woman and her husband looked down at me—her with a smile, and him with a scowl. Not even just a frown, an actual scowl.
“I can’t find my mom,” I said, a tear running down my cheek.
“Beat it, kid.”
“Cletus, she’s scared.”
“Marilyn, I told you to go home.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her back from me.
“Please, mister. I just need someone to help me find her. She’s here somewhere,” I sniffled, looking up and down the street.
“It ain’t our problem, kid, beat it.”
“Cletus, stop it!” Marilyn yanked her arm out of her husband’s grasp.
When he saw people watching, he stepped up to her face and sneered, “Wait until you get home, bitch!”
He stormed off, and the fear on Marilyn’s face did me in.
“I’m sorry. I lied,” I rushed out. “My mom is over there. She’s waiting for you.” I took Marilyn’s hand and dragged her toward Val. “You don’t have to go home. Ever again.”
Val was so angry. Thankfully, Syrena and the others sided with me.
“Most people think I’m younger than I am.”
“Well, that will come in handy when you’re my age,” Trudy chuckled.
She stood from the table, gathered up our plates and her coffee, before saying with a wink, “Stop in again before you leave town.”
I nodded, and taking my coffee with me, I headed outside. Seeing his bike parked in front of the bookstore tempted me to go inside and look for him. But I resisted. Instead, I climbed on my bike and rode back to the motel.
What would I even say to him?
Remember me? The woman you called a kid.
I had been riding up the mountain every day, hoping he would be there. So far, he hadn’t. But maybe if I kept trying. Maybe I would see him again and I could talk to him.
Maybe he would talk to me and see beyond the surface.
Maybe he would see me.
