When I was 17 I decided that I wanted to travel. This was a pretty much spur of the moment decision. I had graduated early from high school by a semester, and since January had been at odds with suburbia. My friends were planning their lives, and getting ready to go to college, basically to meet their husbands, and to attempt a career until they got pregnant. I looked around at the life I had been living until then and realised that I had no idea what the world was about. Hell I didn't even know much outside my state. I thought about that for a while on a chilly sleepless night and at dawn had made my decision. I left my house to the sounds of my dog chewing on leftovers from the fridge I pulled out for him, and quietly closed the door. I knew that if I tried to explain to my mother what I wanted to do I'd be grounded until I was dead.

Over my shoulder was a purse with my brush, wallet, toothbrush, and some music. I had the clothes on my back and about three quarters of a tank of gas in my Aries K car, and two hundred dollars in the bank. My plan was this, Drive until I ran out of gas, then throw my thumb into the wind and see what happens. Looking back as an adult I realise how frightening and dangerous this was, but being seventeen I was damn near immortal.

I left Kirkwood, Mo where my mother's house was at the time, and drove until I had passed Springfield, Mo. I coasted into a rest stop, and fingured it was as good a place as any to spend the night. It was dusk and I was sitting on a picnic table having a soda, and some snack I had gleaned from the crap machines at the stop. Two men and a woman were sitting not to far away, and soon we were talking. It had always been in my nature to talk to just about anyone, and not thinking that an anonymous rest stop was a bad place to be friendly to strangers I kept on with the conversation.

Soon enough night had fallen, and they were going to find a nearby motel. I had told them I was broke, and just planning on sleeping in my car. They invited me to crash at their room, as long as they could sneak me in. This sounded exciting to me, especially since the only thing I had ever gotten into at home was breaking curfew and smoking a little pot.

We get into the motel room, and the first thing they do is break out some weed. The girl grabs the coke she was drinking and pours the rest into a cup from the bathroom and proceeds to poke holes into it with a key to make a pipe. We pass it around for a minute and I get pleasantly stoned. After that one of the guys, let's call him Mike, asked me if I had ever tried speed before. Thinking it was coke that he meant I said sure. Lying through my teeth, but not wanting to be uncool.

Mike reaches into a bag and asks the other guy "Pete" for some cotton. At this point I am beyond clueless, and started to chat with the woman there. Then I see Mike pull out a bag with white stuff in it, and a handful of syringes. I am starting to get nervous, and I realise that my car is still back at the rest stop. No matter what I will have to hitch my way out of there, but now I am both curious and afraid to leave. On top of that I am completely sluggish from the pot.

After that it's hazy and fast and before I knew it Pete is before me asking me o hold out my arm. I take a deep breath and comply and he ties a cut cord around my bicep, and starts flicking the crook of my arm. After a minute he seems satisfied and puts the needle in. Time slows. I see a brief flag of red and realise that it's my blood. All of a sudden I feel this intense whoosh across my entire body. My heart starts to pound and I am covered in a film of sweat. I cannot describe the terror/ecstasy I felt come over me. I must have sat there stunned for a moment because their voices asking if I was ok come through like they're in a tunnel. I breath again after and eternity.

Soon after the woman starts to get strange, and I make up an excuse to leave. A soda or something I mumble and bail out of the room. I start walking down the road to the freeway enterence with my thumb out when a beat up truck pulls along side.


 
" Need a ride?"

I looked up into the window of the beat to shit truck. An older man, probably about fifty years old, was at the wheel. He was wearing a plaid shirt, red and green, and in my drug induced state it looked almost too bright.

I nodded and he reached over to open the door. I swung in again without a thought of what might happen. He introduced himself as Tom, and asked me my name. I gave him the name of a girl I had gone to school with, and after that used it for the rest of my travels.

My name is Anne, I replied settling myself in the ripped passanger seat. I set my purse between my legs, and heard him ask where I was going. I realised at that point I had no idea, so I told him that I had left my car at the rest stop on I-40 and my car was out of gas. He looked at me oddly then and then the questions started coming. Why was I in town, how did I get here, did I know anyone. I fielded them as best I could lying through my teeth of course. At the time I was sure everything I said was plausible, but much later I knew he never believed a thing. How obvious it was that I was a minor, a runaway, and high on drugs. Pretty damn obvious!

He asked me if I wanted to get stoned and I said sure, hoping he meant pot this time. I needed something to take the edge of my buzz. I had never felt like this before and it was far from pleasant. My eyes were jittering in my head, and I couldn't keep my attention on anything. In the mean time he introduced himself as Tom, and yeah I was pretty dead on about his age. He lived nearby, and we headed over to his house. Soon after we got there I was sitting in his living room and we were passing a bowl back and forth. While we were doing that he started to roll a joint and when the bowl was cashed he lit that up and asked if I wanted to shotgun. I knew then that he wanted to sleep with me, and oddly it didn't seem like a bad idea. Since 5 this morning I had experienced such a departure from my life that a little further wouldn't hurt. So there I was Far away from the home I knew. Stranded in a par of the state I had never been to before. Out of my mind on new and experimental drugs and ready to fuck a man about about 40 yrs my senior.

I'm not going into details here, but we did sleep together and in the morning he asked if I wanted to stay for a few days. I thought about it, and seeing as I really had no direction and needed to rest for a bit after yesterday I agreed. So we went to the rest stop where my car was with a gas can and got it back to his house. We spent most of the day smoking pot and having sex. That evening I asked him what he did for work, and he said he was semi retired, but occasionally he did things for money. When I asked what that meant I was promised to be shown tomorrow.

We got up the next morning, and he asked me if I had any other clothes. I told him no, and he said we could get some more today, after he did a quick job. I still had no idea what he was talking about, so when we pulled up in front of a secluded houseI just figured he was a repairman of some type. He got out of the truck, and motioned me to follow him. I did and as he passed the bed of the truck he grabbed a crowbar. We walked around to the rear of the house where there was a small patio and a sliding glass door. He asked me to look and see if there was a bar, or any other kind of stopped that would keep it from sliding open. By this time I was realising that there was something else going on here. Right about then he popped the door somehow with the crowbar, and he was in. He motioned again, and I followed him into the house. He started grabbing things, a vcr, and opened the wok on top of the cabinet in the kitchen. There was cash inside, and he pocketed that.

"Go into the bedrooms, and look around" he barked.

I was freaking out, but went, not knowing what else to do. I was in the middle of a felony, and knew unless I wanted to get caught I had better just keep my head. I walked into the master bedroom, and looked at the dresser. I saw a jewelry box, and a sick thrill went through my stomach. I thought I was going to vomit, but at the same time I had never been as excited. I crossed the room and opened the box. There wasn't much in it, maybe a few real things, but mostly crap. I grabbed a pillowcase off of a pillow and dumped the contents of the box into it.

Then I started opening the drawers. I looked through the woman's clothes, touching everything. I felt her bras, and looked at the sizes. She was close to my size so I grabbed a few of those as well, and put them in the bag. A couple of other items went in there as well. Jeans, some shirts, nothing big. Then I found it. A roll of money stuffed next to some wool argyle socks. Navy blue and pink. God I would never forget those socks. That made it real. I felt like I had been operating in a dream and just gotten woke up brutally. Still I grabbed the money, and stuffed it into the crotch of the ants I was wearing. and left the room.

I joined Tom in the living room, where he had grabbed the stereo and we bailed. Me with my bag, and him with the stereo. He alredy put the vcr into the truck. We pulled out of the driveway and started down the road. Driving maddeningly slow we were passed my a few other cars. I watched out the window as we turned on to a back road for a moment and went right back on the the main road. As we pulled back on from the side road, we saw a cop pass up. Tom didn't even flinch. All I wanted to do was hide under the seat.

"Sit up straight" he said quietly.

I did and soon we were back to his place. The first thing he did was dump the bag I was holding onto the table. I was right most of it was junk, and I didn't know enough about what the rest was to tell real from fake. Tom picked up an opal and yellow gold ring and handed it to me. I slipped it on my finger and smiled. After a moment he went to take a shower and as soon as I heard the water running, I grabbed my purse and the clothes I had stolen and ran out the door. I was in my car and gone before I could think.

The first thing I did was stop at a gas station and fill up, change my clothes and find the interstate




 
I drove endlessly. The road spitting out mile after mile of plains. Not a damn hill in sight.
Kansas after Kansas City was a vast waste, and empty space that to my mind at the time would be better if it never existed. My nerves where singing, and I was on edge for the whole day, so much so that I pulled over 4 times on the side of the road, and would just lay across the back seat of my car feeling the passing semi truck shake it. I had gone almost all the way across Kansas in a day, making slow time. A few times I would find another car going the same way I did and would follow,and almost play with it. Like I was traveling with someone, we just happened to be in separate vehicles. I felt like I had companionship of sorts, but one that didn't demand me to actually interact with them.

Finally I ran out of gas. It was another deserted stretch of road, and by the last sign I had seen would be at least 7 miles to the next exit. I grabbed what I could out of the car. I had bought a back pack at a Kmart off the side of the freeway, and the stolen clothes and money was in there. I had walked about 2 miles when a semi missing the trailer drove up. I threw out my thumb and he slowed, pulling to a stop.
I adjusted my bag over my sholder and took a deep breath.

Resolutely I put one foot in front of the other and somehow I ended up in front of the truck, which now had the passenger door open. I look up, ad started to twist the stolen opal ring on my finger, taking a moment to wonder why I was still wearing it. The driver asked where I was going as I hopped in and settled myself into the seat. Washington, I said, pulling a place out of my ass. I am going to visit some friends before I start school, and want to save money on a bus ticket. He laughed and said, "Well whatever you say honey."
He actually sounded friendly. After the few others I had met, I was at least starting to recognise real kindness from the I want smething from you kindness. Of course that didn't seem to stop me. We chatted for a bit, and he said he was going to Hugo, Wy where his home and wife was. He offered to take me there so I could sleep for the night. We talked a bit and I know he realised that I was as aimless as I could be, but for once I had met a nice guy.

It was dark by the time we pulled into his driveway, and we went inside. He introduced me to his wife Lynn, and fixed e something to eat. By this point I was exhausted. I hadn't slept much at all since I left home, because of the drugs, and how jumpy I had been. Brian, that was his name, told me that I could sleep in the bed inside his truck. They didn't have but one bedroom, and the couch was apparently not that comfortable. I think the truth was Lynn was afraid I steal something, or God only knows what.

I fell asleep almost immediatly and the next morning woke to Brain offering me breakfast. After I ate he took me to the nearest freeway on ramp, asking over and over again if I wanted to call home and forget the rest of my trip. I thought about it for a moment and shook my head. To this day I don't know why I kept going. Maybe it was because I had started on a journey and wasn't one to quit, but more than likely I had already felt that, well, you can't ever go home again. Oddly enough I really never did after that day.

I was thumbing northwest then, and caught a ride here and there. Nothing really exciting happened until I hit Portland, OR. I had been gone about 2 or 3 weeks by this point and had been sleeping rough, and bathing pretty much consistently in rest stop and gas station sinks. I was let off in Portland the night before the Rose Festival. All downtown seemed lined with booths, and decorations.
I wondered around by the waterfront for hours and eventually met up with a group of people a bit older than me, but not by much. Of course they had pot, surprise surprise. It seemed like everyone did at that point, except me of course. Two of the guys in the group had a place not to far away so we all headed back there.

We walked for about a mile and a half into seedier and seedier parts of the city. You would think that after the last few weeks that wouldn't bother me, but as I looked around at the boarded over shops and the titty bars I felt disturbed. A little middle class suburbia still stuck. We turned onto his street not to long after that and all trooped inside. It was a pretty big house filled with mismatched and scrounged furniture. the ever present spool tables were there as a catchall filled with dirty plates, ashtrays, bottles. There was cat feces on one of the couch cushions. Within the second though Marc and Paul, the "owners" of the house had broken out the pot and we were getting high again. After a while the topic of other drugs came up and Paul asked if anyone had done speed. The memory of the hotel room came rushing back.

"I have." I blurted and immediately felt like clapping my hand over my mouth. I had no idea before leaving home how prevalent meth was. God I had never even heard of it before. The others said they had as well, and then Paul broke out a baggie. I can still see it. It was one of those fold top sandwich bags my mom used to pack my lunch with. The top was ripped off and it was burnt shut. He ripped it with his teeth, and dumped some on a plate. He began to chop it into lines, and I backpedals saying I didn't want to snort any. Paul said ok, then asked Marc to grab some clean toilet paper from the bathroom.

When Marc brought it back Paul took it and tore a small strip of it off, and wrapped a small chunck of speed in it. He said to swallow it whenever, and the others set to doing their lines. I watch them, Paul specifically. He was tall and very thin, with light brown hair so curly that it almost was dreded. He looked up from the plate and wipped and pinched at his nose. I popped the little ball of paper into my mouth and swallowed giving him a smile. He smiled back in that way that guys get, and I thought.."oh crap, how am I gonna get out of this one."

We all kinda separated after a time. Everyone that was there tweaking off to do their own thing. and I ended up in the back room where it was less messy with Paul. He asked me what I was doing, and I surprised myself by telling him the truth. That I had in essence, gotten bored with life and had run away. Well not the entire truth, it wasn't boredom that drove me, but that is for another tale.

Finally at around 4 am I passed out on the futon I was sitting on, and with the morning woke. Paul was asleep beside me with his arm over me. I knew that he wanted me to stay at least for a little bit, but also knew that I didn't want to get into another situation like with Tom. Again I grabbed my things and left. Now I was on foot, miles from anywhere I knew. More tired than I had ever been, and having no sense of direction. I was praying for signs to lead me back to the festival. I figured I would be able to talk my way into a ride there, or at least be able to find another on ramp. I decided I was going to go to BC. Actually get out of the country, maybe try to get all the way up to Alaska by summer. Something else happened instead.
I managed to get out of portland unscathed and went onto the road again in a short enough time. Nothing really remarkable happened for a day or two, and then the tiredness started taking over again. Even though I had money I wasn't 18, and really had no desire to show a motel clerk my underage license on the chance that there was someone looking for me. So I was sleeping as little as possible and trying to doo it as off road as possible. Fortunatly there was alot of farming communties west of portland and I had found a decent sized field in a town called Forest Grove, which was about 20 miles west of Portland.

When I had left Paul's I had grabbed a blanket/bedroll that I had tied down to the bottom of my bag and laid that out now. There was complete silence and the stars had just started to appear. The only constellation I knew was Orion, and he was no where in sight. Not only that, but I had never seen as many stars in my life as what had come out that night. Gradually I realised that there wasn't any quiet, but the sounds of nature creeping in. Crickets, frogs, unknown rustlings and scratchings, but I didn't worry anymore about what I might meet out there than I did going off with any of the other things I had done in the past few weeks. I slept easily that night and woke with the dawn. As the sun started to rise I was heading back on to the road.

I reached Hwy 101 a few hours later and before nightfall hit I was in Washington. I really didn't know where I was heading, and Seattle wasn't the mecca of coffee and grunge at that time, so it wasn't exactly a beacon. I was hitching down some forgettable state road or highway after eating at a truck stop diner, when a VW Rabbit pulled along side of me.

The driver was a young man, really not much more than a teenager. He was blond, and stocky in build, but I couldn't tell his height right off as he was driving. We talked for a bit and he told me he was heading to Seattle to go to school, thinking it sounded no wore than any other place I told him that was my destination as well. We drove for a bit chatting nonsense and I noticed a slight accent that I could place. I asked him, and he said he was from Germany, and was here on a student Visa. He was studying international business, and his school where he was from sponsored students to spend a semester abroad. I remember thinking it was funny that we were considered abroad, but I suppose that really up until then other countries were defined by the news and where I wanted to eat out. I had been to Jamaica about 5 yrs ago, but we were at a resort or doing tourist things, so it hardly seemed foreign. He was someone that made me realise exactly how small my life had been, and internally I knew that no matter what I needed to keep going on my journey.

It was around 7 at night when Kris wanted to stop for the night. I told him that I'd pitch in on a room if he'd let me stay, and he agreed. When we went in I realised that the room had one king size bed instead of the 2 doubles that I had been expecting, but didn't say anything. I thought that if something was going to happen I would want it too, or nothing would go on. We ordered from a local pizza place and were watching TV and munching when he leaned over. His kiss didn't surprise me, but the fact that he was almost fumbling did. I kissed him back though guiding his lips with mine and running my tongue along the inside of his teeth. They parted, and I led. He followed swiftly and son we were kissing softly but urgently and before I knew it we were on the bed. There was no rushing to take our clothes off, but slowly and methodically he undressed me. Keeping his lips on mine until I was bare, but for my panties. They moved down my thighs now, and he bent his head to follow them. He kissed me between my legs and I felt a heat there that I hadn't felt before. He kept one and soon I was gasping and crying out loudly. When it was over I went for him, and he stopped me. He pulled me over to him and put his arms around me in a hug.
"no." he said simply.
I looked up at him, and my face must have reflected how confused I felt.
"It's not right,"he replied in answer. "You don't have to do for me, just because I did that to you. I wanted to do it, and enjoy doing it, and the pleasure that it brought you. You really don't want me though."
I made some sound of protest, but realised that he was right. However wonderful it felt kissing him, and having him go down on me. I had never really been excited about sex. It wasn't really anything I had done in high school. I had always been more of a tease, and the episode with Tom was still very fresh.
We lay back then and he turned on the TV, in moments I was asleep.

I woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night hearing my mothers voice calling my name. I knew I had to call her. I tried to figure out the time difference and figured it was about 6 am. She would be getting ready for work, so I walked over to the pay phone outside the room, after grabbing the key off of the dresser. I dialed the number and it rang. Eventually I got an answering machine, and the operator came on. There was nothing I could do, but I attempted to leave a collect message saying that I was alright. To this day I never found out if she got it.

Kris woke around 7 the next morning. I was already up and showered. I had never fallen back asleep after the call. We went the rest of the way to Seattle, and said our goodbyes. I walked into a few shops, and splurged on a book. It was Jitterbug Perfume, by Tom Robbins.I walked a bit further and went into a diner/coffee shop to grab a bite, and soak up my book, with some free refills coffee, at least until they kicked me out. I hadn't gotten far when a trio of kids around my age walked in talking loudly