Page 7 of Where We Began

He slides off his sunglasses, making me notice he'd worn them this whole time even with the rain. When he glances at me, I make sure not to flinch. “Hey there,” he says.

I grit my jaw hard.

“I'm Miles.” His arm drapes over the back of his seat. “You're a quiet one, huh?”

“Leave her alone.” Annie shoots the guy a look, starting the car. “Just call Heidi the second we get some damn service out here. Jesus, he really hid himself in the middle of nowhere.”

Miles plays with something I can't see, his eyes in his lap. “I'll tell you when I get a bar. Might not be until we get closer to the town.” He's talking about Stutter's Valley, the place Dad visits every now and then for supplies. I've rarely been there. Two weeks back was one of those times, when he left us with the midwife so he could get Mom to a bigger hospital.

Annie glances in the rear-view mirror, watching me. Her eyes glow with a blue hue from the dashboard. This car is way nicer than ours; I don't understand half of the things I'm seeing. “Are you hungry?” she asks.

I shake my head.

She holds my eyes then stares out at the winding dirt road. The car isn't made for this terrain; it rolls over a rock, and Miles groans. “Fuck, this place is hell.”

“No it's not,” I say flatly. “It's Heaven.”

Miles throws his head back as he laughs at me. “Sure, kid. Sure.”

I watch out the window. I count every tree, every wet and thorny bush. I'm inscribing our journey in my mind so that I'll never forget the way back home.

****

WE DRIVE THROUGH THEtown and we don't stop.

People glance at us as we pass. It's enough for me to feel bitter. Why aren't they helping me? Why is no one stopping our car? Annie and her goons areeviland I'm not supposed to be here.

No one tries to slow us down.

“Hey,” Miles says, lifting something to his ear. I think it must be a phone but I've never seen one so small. The ones in books are all big with curly cords. “We're going to make it to the launch spot in fifteen.” He pauses. “Yup, we've got the cargo.”

I don't realize Mile's is talking about me until Annie peeks at me in the mirror. Clutching my seatbelt, I stare as we drive towards a flat field. The rain has slowed, but there's still no sun in the sky. What I see waiting for us in the clearing takes my breath away.

The helicopter looks just like the drawings I've seen. Its yellow and black surface is wasp-like. The blades on top aren't moving but I picture them spinning in a blur.

“Ever been flying before?” Annie asks, reading my mind.

I say nothing. Silence is the only power I have.

The tires stop moving. Miles hops out, stretching. Annie comes around to open my door. She seems unsure if she should offer me her hand or not. I take the choice away by climbing onto the squishy ground. She curls her fingers and shuts the door loudly. “Refill the car in that town before you head back to the cabin, Miles.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me shake out this stiffness first.”

Eyeing the helicopter, I see someone sitting inside, the pilot, most likely. I've never been scared of heights. I've spent hours imagining being a bird, soaring overhead, light as air. The sweat on my palms isn't from fear of flying. It's because this will make it impossible for me to memorize the way back home.

She leads me to the open door in the chopper. The pilot in the front seat is wearing a helmet of some kind. I can't see her eyes, but she flashes Annie a thumb's up. There are only two seats in the rear. I sit in one, clipping the belt into place without needing to be told.

I'm not scared of flying. But I'm not going to risk falling to my death.

The blades whine loudly. Annie bends over the pilot, saying something then joins me in the back. Once she's buckled in, we take off. As awful as leaving is, there's a thrill to being so high in the sky. I catch myself smiling too late; Annie sees, but she says nothing. The longer we spend together the more she seems unsure of how to interact.

“You're quiet,” she yells over the noise. “I expected you to have more questions.”

I have a thousand of them, but I want nothing from this woman.

“I'm not your enemy, you know.” She keeps talking, a person in love with her own voice. “I can even be your friend.”

“No you can't,” I scoff. Annie's grin is crooked; I gave her what she wanted. Burning red at my own weakness, I stare back out the window. I wish the space in here were bigger. I'm too close to her shiny heels. The cloying perfume she wears burns my nose.

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