Satisfied that all was quiet, she closed the garage door. It rumbled down the track and she didn’t back down the driveway until it was closed. Only then did she feel safe enough to leave.
The Vega Hatchback was the only car out on Talbert Avenue that early morning when Maggie Swanson finally escaped from her husband Tom and the reign of terror that had been her life for the past ten years.
THEY’D BEEN ON the road for five hours when Andy finally woke up. The early morning sunlight was streaming through the windshield from the east as Maggie headed down Interstate 10. “Mom, where are we?”
She glanced into the rearview mirror at him. He’d raised himself on his elbows and was looking sleepy-eyed at her from the backseat. His hair was in disarray. He began looking around the car and out the window, as if unsure if he was really awake or still dreaming in sleep.
“We’re almost in Blythe,” Maggie said. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She’d been mentally preparing herself for when Andy woke up and for the inevitable questions that were sure to follow.
“We’re out in the desert!” Andy’s voice was more awake sounding now.
“Yes, we’re out in the desert.”
“Where are we going?”
“On a little trip.”
“To where?”
“To wherever you want to go.”
She stole another glance at him in the rearview mirror. He was looking out at the rolling tumbleweed and cacti. “But… why?”
“Because we need to get away for awhile.”
Andy looked at her. She tried to meet his gaze. “But what about Daddy?”
“Daddy’s in Chicago, honey.”
“I know, but is he going to meet us?”
“No, he’s not.”
Andy appeared to think about this. His remarkable gray eyes were dark in concentration as his little forehead wrinkled in thought about this sudden predicament. He didn’t look at all like Tom, who wasn’t Andy’s natural father. From what Maggie remembered, Andy’s father had been tall with dark hair and equally dark, piercing eyes. She’d been blasted out of her mind the night he was conceived, in some row house on Haight and Ashbury in San Francisco. Three months later, Maggie and the rest of the Children had made a pilgrimage to the Middle East for a spiritual awakening, and that’s when she’d found out she was pregnant. The commune had been incredibly supportive and loving and had nurtured her through the remaining months of her pregnancy. Andy had been born in a little village in Iraq, and the commune had returned to the US a month later.
Maggie kept her eyes on the road, but stole occasional glances at her son in the rearview mirror. She was getting hungry. Blythe was another thirty miles ahead. Perhaps a quick breakfast, and then a trip to the nearest used car trade-in dealership, and then she and Andy could be hitting the road again by ten. That would give them all day.
“How come Daddy isn’t going to meet us?”
She glanced back at Andy in the rearview mirror. He was looking at her intently, sitting up now. He’d thrown the Afghan off and sat in the backseat impassively. Waiting for an answer.
“Daddy isn’t coming on this trip because this trip is just for you and Mommy.”
“Oh.” That appeared to throw him for a loop, but it didn’t last long. He looked at her uncertainly, slow realization dawning on his features. God, but the kid was sharp. “Did you and Daddy have a fight again?”
Maggie sighed. She’d hoped this would be the questioning he would take. She felt relieved. “Yes,” she said, glancing at Andy every now and then as she talked to him. “I’m sorry about… what happened last week. You know your Daddy’s been working hard at the office and is always on those business trips. But the fact of the matter is… well… you saw how he was treating us…”
Andy nodded. His features solemn.
“And you saw how… well… it hurt me, Andy. Your father and I have talked about it over and over again, he’s always told me that he was going to get help but he never has. And he never will. He just buries himself in his work, and I know it’s important to him. I know he’s just working so hard so we can have such a nice house and live in a nice neighborhood.” She sought her son’s gaze in the rearview mirror. He looked at her. “But he’s in so deep he doesn’t know what’s real anymore. And the more I try to bring him out, the more I try to get him to… pay attention to the fact that he has a family, he gets angry. And sometimes he… blows up.” She chose her words carefully, treading softly for the full effect. “Like what he did last month.”
“That was the only time he got mad and hit you, though,” Andy said.
“No, it wasn’t,” Maggie said. They were approaching a sign that read BLYTHE, POPULATION 15,355; FIFTEEN MILES. Traffic on Interstate 10 was relatively light. “He’s hit me on more than one occasion. He used to do it when you weren’t around. So you wouldn’t see. When he did it that last time… when you saw it…” She looked in the rearview mirror and met his gaze. He looked like he was ready to cry. “…that was the last straw. I told myself that I would never allow him to do that to me in front of you ever again. But I think what I wanted most of all was to pull us out of… that world he created for us. One in which I wasn’t happy, you weren’t happy, and Daddy and me were always fighting and making you sad. I didn’t want that for you any more.” She glanced at him in the rearview. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Do you understand, honey?”
He nodded, cheeks red, bottom lip quivering. His chest hitched with a sob. “I’m sorry Daddy hit you Mommy!”
“I’m sorry too, Andy,” Maggie said softly. She turned her attention to the road. They were approaching the outskirts of Blythe. She began keeping a watch for a McDonald’s or a Denny’s somewhere off the Interstate.
“I don’t want us to make Daddy feel bad if we leave him!” Andy sobbed.
“We won’t make him feel bad, honey.” Now she faced the simultaneous task of calming Andy down and finding a suitable eatery for their morning breakfast.
“Yes we will!” Andy cried. He sat in the back seat and cried while Maggie kept her eyes peeled for somewhere to pull off. She was already beginning to get tired.
Golden arches loomed ahead, towering over a Ford and Chevrolet sign dotting the highway. She pulled off the Interstate and looked at Andy in the rearview mirror. “You hungry, sport?”
Andy’s cries had turned to sniffles, but he nodded nonetheless. He rubbed his red-rimmed eyes.
“How’s McDonald’s grab you?”
He nodded again, the waterworks evaporating. McDonald’s had the strangest effect on kids nowadays. The place hadn’t even existed when she was his age, and even when she was in high school they were no more than roadside hamburger stands. Now they had clown mascots. What was the world coming to?
“Great!” She pulled off the road and the McDonald’s loomed ahead. She pulled into the fast food outlet’s parking lot and killed the engine. Then she turned to the backseat with a smile. “I could go for some of those pancakes and sausages. How ’bout you?”
“And a chocolate shake!”
“Two chocolate shakes!” She reached out and began playfully tickling him. That got him laughing and squirming in the backseat. Brought him back to being a normal eight-year old boy.
“Last one out’s a rotten egg!” she cried.