The Edge

The thing he loved best about all this was the uncertainty in his next moment. When August climbed into the bed of a truck there was no telling where it was headed, or how long he would stay before he was forced to move on. He loved not being tied down by plans. All August needed to worry about was keeping out of sight.

Sometimes when he had the money he splurged and bought a bus ticket. Those journeys kept him from the breeze and sun, so he kept them for when he traveled far north. August discovered he enjoyed the snow as much as the sun. He would lay out and make shapes with his body, then later he warmed up with a mug of hot cocoa. It was one of the best combinations he discovered so far.

The only thing August concerned himself with was money. He kept enough for food, and to buy new clothes when needed. For baths he usually made do with river water or just stood outside during a heavy rain. He learned to cut his own hair and if he needed more than the open sky as shelter, he built it himself.

The more August saw of this world, the more he came to love it. He knew about mountains and forests, but the structures built by man were just as amazing. They actually carved faces into stone, designed towers and arches, erected statues of both real and fictional people, and many other incredible things. All of this without any magical help.

August wanted to soak everything in, but found he was missing out on two hundred years of history. This world had schools to teach that history, but August tried that once and didn't like it. Instead he learned in his own way: through books. When he wasn't on the road he was holed up in a library reading everything from philosophy to romance. These books took him to places farther than any bus could travel. They made him long to see it all with his own eyes.

He stood with his bare feet in the grainy sand, watching the waves roll back and forth in gentle motions. It took him a long time to get to this place. For a while he almost believed it didn't exist, yet here he was staring at an endless sea.

Slowly August stepped forward. The water was at his ankles now. It felt warm and although the tide was gentle, it still felt like the water was pulling him forward. August closed his eyes to recall all the stories he read about the sea: the sailor trying to get home after a war, the old man struggling against a fish, the captain exploring twenty thousand leagues below the surface, the pirates searching for treasure, the many explorers searching for a new land, the madman hunting down a whale… That last one was one of August's favorites.

The waves were pulling him in deeper, dragging him deep down. A whale roared and opened its mouth wide to take him in…

August's eyes snapped open as he took hurried steps back toward more solid ground. His body trembled all over and his heart hammered erratically in his chest. He could hide in a stranger's truck or stow away in a dark train car; he could bear rain and snow and intense heat; he could even handle living apart from his father. But the ocean, he couldn't handle that. Not in person.

But he could run away from this. He could keep on running for as long as possible.