The Change
The truck bed vibrated under him. He could feel every bump in the road but didn't try for a more comfortable position. From his spot he could watch the steady dip and rise of the power lines. Even the constant heat of the sun didn't bother him. He welcomed the burns and sweat that came from it.
August felt the vibrations roll to a stop. Groggily he lifted his head to see that the driver pulled up to a gas station. There were a few other cars pulled up at the pumps so August slid on his back off the back of the truck. The adults were too busy to notice a boy sneaking among the gas pumps. August checked his reflection to be sure he looked presentable.
This was always his least favorite part: leaving a reliable form of transportation. He rode with this truck for miles, enjoying sunning himself the whole way, but now it was time to move on. It was a rule August made for himself. He never stayed in one place for too long and he certainly never gave the adults reason to take him back to social services.
August waited a few more minutes before going into the station for some food and water. He took some time in the bathroom to splash his face and wash off some of the sweat. His face hurt from the sunburn; the skin wasn't quite so pale these days but it still turned red easily.
He walked across the street to eat and decide on what to do next. His cash funds were running low and he needed a haircut again. At first he thought to ignore his appearance and save his money for things like food, but he quickly learned that clean clothes and managed hair were just as important if he wanted to blend in. Once he figured it out, living in this world became much easier.
Strangely, he didn't feel lonely most of the time. He met people every day: kind strangers buying into his stories, kids in the playgrounds and parks, store clerks, librarians, or just voices on the radio. The loneliness only came when he listened to crickets too closely or watched a father playing with his son. And then there were the babies. Every time he heard a baby crying August felt a tug at his heart and, weirdly enough, his leg itched.
August didn't know what any of it meant but it bothered him. He tried to push it as far out of his thoughts as possible.
And anything else that could remotely remind him of it. August frowned, tugging on a strand of his hair. He needed to change more than just the length. Then he could finally say goodbye to Pinocchio for good.