Sunday, May 2, 2010

Siren's Song, NaNo 2008, Chapter Thirteen

‘Dear Tucker, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you get involved in this…”
Senga could only imagine the look on his face when her note was found. The sun had yet to rise when she woke up to scribble out one last note to him on hotel stationary. She’d tucked it away, safe in his pants’ pocket. They had planned to go to the airport first thing in the morning.



She had written him a note, saying she would meet him there, that she had to say goodbye to her friends and co-workers before they left. He would accept that, and head to the airport on his own.
Only her final destination was the bus station. She handed her suitcase to a homeless person on the strip, and kept walking. She wasn’t one to leave a trail by having to check any baggage.
‘It’s too much. I love you too much, want you too much. My life is on the road. I can never stop…’
The station in the morning was abuzz with the young, fresh faces of those attempting to start a new life in the city of sin, their heads filled with dreams of stages and glitter and the bells of the casinos. Senga stood in the center of the station, with bodies spinning and sliding around her own, her tickets out of there getting wrinkled in her hands. She looked up at the clock; Tucker would be at the airport by now, waiting for her. Her bus didn’t leave for another twenty minutes. He wouldn’t have time to get across the city to find her.
Almost immediately her phone began to ring. Tucker’s face glowed on the caller ID. She wouldn’t pick up, couldn’t pick up. She pictured him finding the note, and hanging up, running from the ticket desk and out to the waiting taxis.
‘I’m taking the first bus out of the city. Please don’t follow me…’
He would, of course, make an attempt. But she would be on the bus, as it sailed along the highway.
The announcement that her bus was boarding came over the loudspeaker, and she put her still ringing cell phone on the nearest bench. He would find it, still trying to call her, see his face on the caller ID. Senga took a deep breath, and stepped away from the bench, turning away to face the bus lot. It smelled of diesel exhaust and sweat. But there was a small trace of freedom wafting around in the mix.
‘I’ve been living this life long enough to learn how to not leave a trail. Even if you wanted, you wouldn’t be able to find me. If things had been different, we could be together. But until Andy is dead and gone, we can’t be. But my heart belongs to you, never forget that. Maybe one day our paths will cross again, but you won’t remember me. I can promise that much.’
She hadn’t signed the note, but kissed it softly, leaving faint traces of lip gloss at the end. Would he kiss it as well? She didn’t want to know.
A final boarding call was announced, and Senga finally handed the driver her ticket. She didn’t even glance back into the station. He wouldn’t rush up behind her and save her from herself. He wouldn’t even get there as the bus pulled out of the station to give her a glimpse of him one last time through the cloudy, dirty bus window.
She found a seat in the back of the bus, and settled back, with her backpack in her lap. The Greyhound lurched forward in a cloud of exhaust. There was no looking out the window and into the past now. There was only an uncertain future.

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