It always rained in Washington. Richie snapped the collar of his green and black racing jacket and pushed his hat further down on his head. He shifted the almost nothing weight of his backpack and jogged for the shelter of the truck stop. He leaned up against the brick wall of the building and fished a soggy wad of crumpled bills out of his jeans pocket. It had been a few days and he was running low on cash. He decided that for now all he needed was a cup of coffee to warm him up. He hated begging and wanted to delay the need to do it as long as possible. He took off his hat and shook the water from his hair before entering the all night café. There was one large truck driver sitting at the counter chatting happily with the lone waitress; Richie chose a stool on the other end of the counter.

"What can I get for you, sugar?" the waitress asked snapping her gum.

"Coffee," Richie answered quietly.

"Comin' right up," she smiled down at him. She left and returned a second later with a cup and pot of coffee. Richie nodded slightly at her and held his hands around the cup to warm them back up. The waitress went back to chatting with the truck driver. Richie could tell they were talking about him because they kept glancing over at him.

"Didn't I pass you a few miles back on the road?" the driver asked in a deep voice.

"Possibly," Richie shrugged.

"That's a hell of rain to be out in."

Richie shrugged again. "S'not that bad."

"What's a young kid like you doing out in the middle of the nowhere this late at night by yourself?"

"I'm not as young as I look," Richie assured him smugly.

"You look like a lost little kid to me," the truck driver told him. "Maria, get the kid whatever he wants, on me."

"What do you want, sugar?" Maria asked pulling a pen out from behind her ear.

"Nothin'," Richie told her. "I don't need any charity."

"Well, if you want a ride, you have to eat. Them's the rules," the truck driver told him with a smile. "I'm going north and could use some company."

Richie perked up a little. "Yeah?"

"But this is my last stop before my delivery, so you want to come you better eat now."

"When you leaving?"

"As soon as you're done." The driver patted the seat next to him invitingly.

Richie thought for a minute then got up and took a seat next to the driver. "I'm Richie," he introduced himself putting his hand out.

"Bruce."

"What can I get ya, sugar?" Maria asked.

"Anything you got."

Maria smiled and cracked her gum again. "I'll get you a burger and fries."

"That works." Twenty minutes later Richie finished off the last of the cherry pie.

"How long as it been since you've eaten, Richie?" Bruce asked with a laugh.

"Yesterday morning."

"How long have you been on the run?"

"Couple days," Richie shrugged.

"Where you from?"

"South."

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere you'll take me."

"Turns out that's where I'm headed," Bruce told him with a smile. "But there's another condition." He pointed to a phone behind the counter.

. . . . . .

"Still no word?" Duncan asked shaking the rain off his coat before draping if across a chair in the kitchen. Richie had been missing for almost three days. They had filed a missing persons report as soon as the police would let them and took turns driving around the city and waiting for someone to call. They had called all of Richie's friends and nobody had seen or heard from him.

"Duncan, where could he be?" Tessa asked wrapping her arms around his waist for comfort.

"I don't think he's in Seacouver anymore," Duncan told her softly. "Someone would have found him by now."

"You think he's hitch-hiking?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," he admitted. "I'm sorry, Tessa. I thought telling him would make it easier on him. I didn't want to lie to him. If I had said what you told me to none of this would have happened."

"We'll find him and we'll bring him home," Tessa decided. "I don't care if we have to drag him all the way back from Canada, I'm not letting him stay out by himself, he's too young."

"I'll do everything I can to find him," he assured her running his fingers through her hair before grabbing his coat and heading out onto the streets again. Before he left the phone rang.

Tessa snatched it up. "Hello?"

"Tessa?" a small shaky voice asked.

"Richie!" Duncan was at her side in a heartbeat. "Where are you?"

"Out of town," he told her quietly.

"Tell me where you are, we'll come get you."

"No, I just called to tell you I'm okay and I'm sorry."

"Richie it's okay, where are you?"

"I'm not coming back, Tessa." By his voice she could tell he was trying not to cry. "I just screwed everything up. I'm sorry."

"Richie, please," she begged him. "Tell me where you are!"

"I can't."

"Why? Are you hurt?"

"No, Tessa, I'm fine. I can't tell you because then you'll try to come get me. And I'm not going back. Mac hates me."

"I don't hate you, Rich," Duncan whispered listening to the conversation but not willing to risk scaring Richie off the phone by saying something.

"No he doesn't, Richie," Tessa assured him.

"You didn't hear him on the phone when he called."

"He was trying to make you feel better by explaining what was going on. He didn't want to scare you."

"Well he did."

"Richie, please come home."

"I can't. I'm sorry. I'll send you the money I owe from school when I get it."

"Richie!" He had already hung up the phone. Tessa hung up as well and looked at Duncan. "We have to find him; he's scared."

"I'm going north," Duncan decided. "Call the police and tell them he called and he's left the city and we think he went north. That way they can alert the other counties."

. . . . . .

Richie ran his arm across his eyes before turning around to face Bruce and Maria. "You happy, I called them."

"You call your parents Tessa and Mac?" Maria asked.

"They're not my real parents."

"I see," Bruce nodded. "You ready to go? You look like you could use some sleep." Bruce led Richie out of the café winking at Maria over Richie's head as they left. The friendly trucker waited for Richie to get settled in the small bed in the back of the cab before he pulled out onto the two- lane highway.

Maria waited for the rig to disappear into the night before picking up the phone behind the counter and hitting the re-dial button. A woman with an accent answered.

"Richie?"

"No, sugar, this is Maria."

"Who?"

"Richie used my phone to call you."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine, sugar. He's with my friend Bruce. a true gentleman if there ever was one. Richie said he was from south of here, that true?"

"Where are you?"

"Just east of Ft. Coolly."

"That's over a hundred miles from here!" the woman exclaimed.

"Where is here?"

"Seacouver," she answered quickly. "Where is your friend taking Richie?"

"I'll tell him where you're from when he calls. Don't worry. Richie won't be the first runaway Bruce ever missed a delivery to take home."

"Thank you, Maria."

"Sure thing, sugar. You just wait for the police to call and tell you they have them." They hung up.