chapter 1
She'd passed this mile marker several times; her iced tea was no longer perspiring, instead, it had become watered down and when she sipped it, a faint lemon after-taste coated her throat. The many miles of interstate had lulled her into an almost dream-like state. Tempted to close her eyes and make the scene playing out before them more tangible, Alanna removed her sunglasses and gently pinched the bridge of her nose. It was time to find a rest stop. She needed to collect her thoughts. Spending the last year alone had not only cleansed her but had also made her finely honed deception skills sluggish. Pulling into the rest stop, Alanna was reminded of the many field trips she had taken as a child. The nights before each trip to the aquarium, the science museum, or any other of the mistakenly deemed "educational" trips which instead became the catalysts for socialization, Alanna would lie awake at night; her insomnia at its very worst with the promise of a new place, a new experience, that she would arrive at the bus stop bleary eyed and fatigued, clutching onto a lunchbox and a dream from the early hours of the morning. With each subsequent year as Alanna aged, her insomnia became increasingly severe. As a teenager, it seemed to peak; instead of sleeping, she would walk for hours, often aimlessly. These times that although were originally a source of great frustration, became calming and clarifying. Her parents had protested to these "midnight walks" after sporadic crimes proliferated in the neighborhood but after the adoption of Bear, a burly pit bull aptly named, Alanna's parents became less vocal about their concerns.
It was with Bear's leash in hand that Alanna now removed herself from the car, stretching her legs forcefully. Bear, however, seemed content to laze in the passenger's seat deaf to Alanna's urgings. After a light whistle and a pull at his collar, Bear lumbered out of the car with a sigh. Shaking off the cramped hours, Alanna and Bear began to walk. This rest stop was not particularly spacious but was privy to a large cement parking lot which doubled as temporary living quarters for truckers and the occasional nomad. Alanna was familiar with this scene. The past year, she had walked Bear around many such establishments. She had been one of the few true nomads to grace these rest stops along the interstate. Leaving behind her cell phone, permanent address, all ties, Alanna had mindlessly run. She had tried to convince the few persistent friends that bombarded her laptop, the one aspect of her former life that she kept, that she was not running from but rather toward; towards "what" she was less sure of. All that she knew was that her life was crafted by delicately timed impulses. Little truths based on hope or naivety. It wasn't exactly rare that these ideas came to fruition, but it wasn't exactly common, either. She'd left being comfortable, stable, and loved for a chance to find that elusive something that she could not name. It started; it always started, with a prickling of her scalp. Not of fear, but an uncomfortable pulling, leading her towards an impalpable future. Like the time she had almost drowned trying to recover swimming goggles for a stranger at a spring. Her impulsivity was neither feigned altruism nor bravado, but the need. The need to always go deeper, further, and longer than she had thought possible. A wolf-whistle broke the silence. Squinting against the sun, Alanna turned and saw a fine specimen of a man- beer belly, mullet, trucker hat and all. Thoroughly unamused, Alanna continued to walk. "Hey, girl, why don't you come on over here and I can show you a good time?" Alanna grappled for a moment with turning around, whispering "sic 'em" to Bear and showing this sketcher what a good time really was. She chuckled inwardly. How many times had this scenario played out with the unwanted, often crude, comments made to her which instead of being flattering were often insulting? Too many times to count. And a better question- how many times had she retaliated by allowing Bear to growl at the speaker of this ill-fitting form of backwards flattery? Enough to count on one hand.
It was times like these that her lack of friends stung the most. It was difficult for Alanna to admit but while she'd been on the road she had missed human companionship. Bear was much more than adequate most of the time, but it was times where she felt uncomfortable that she missed the laughter or arms of a friend to fold her into after a rough day. Now that the impending reunion between her and all of those she had left behind was rapidly approaching, Alanna felt the pangs of anxiety coupled with expectance. Would she be forgiven for so quickly and seemingly painlessly severing all ties? Now that she was returning, Alanna could not bear the idea that she would not be forgiven by them. By him.
Alanna quickened her pace and left her anxieties to lie dormant for as long as she possibly could. The rest of the ride home was more than long enough for her to ruminate and plan out exactly how she would orchestrate this reunion.