Lost
JC was so scared she couldn't feel anything. That is, she couldn't feel anything inside her. Her knees hurt (she didn't move from her crouch, as if she'd been frozen there like the ice cream in her freezer) and, oddly, she felt hungry. But it was as if her mind had shut off -- she couldn't think of a thing to do, though she knew she should do something. The truck rocked back and forth over the uneven streets, and the racks of pastries swayed over her head. (She wondered if they would fall over and she'd be smothered to death under a pile of cakes.) She waited because that seemed to be the only thing she could do.
The driver made several more stops, and luckily for her he never walked all the way to the back of the truck. All she could see of him were his pants legs (green) and shoes (heavy workboots). She didn't want to raise her eyes up because she thought that if she did that, he'd feel her eyes on him and then he'd find her. Every time the truck stopped her stomach twisted into a little bit tighter knot, and she thought "Now I can get out" and "Now he's going to find me" -- a little bit of hope and a little bit of fear.
But each time he left the truck he shut the doors behind him and JC, not being able to see where he went, didn't want to chance getting caught as she opened the doors and tried to be invisible. She ate one of the cakes, just to make herself feel better; then she ate a second one. They tasted dry in her mouth, like sand. And she didn't feel any better.
She soon found herself drowsing off (she had no idea what time it was), and the rocking of the truck over the road felt like a rough cradle. She shook herself to keep awake, and she began to sing songs to herself, in a low voice (though the truck rattled so loudly, like a sinkful of pots and pans, that he probably couldn't hear her). She also tried to keep out of her mind the thought that she was stupid for what she'd done because she didn't want to feel bad about herself, but the thought kept coming in, like Kara always coming in to her room, and, like Kara, it wouldn't leave when she told it to get out. Some adventure. It was only supposed to be small, a little midnight walk down the street and back. And now here she was being carted to a place she didn't know about (she had enough trouble with maps as it was) and had no idea about how to get back home. When she thought about how worried and scared her mother would be, she burst into tears. (The truck was so loud he'd never hear her.)
After what seemed like eighteen hundred hours of traveling the truck finally stopped. She heard the driver's door slam shut and heard him walk away. Then it was all silent. The truck creaked a little as its metal body relaxed. JC stood up, her knees creaking like the truck, and moved toward the doors. (Her legs were numb and her feet tingled as the blood rushed through her toes.) She found the latch for the door and swung it open. The truck was parked in a big yard with other Drake trucks, the yard lighted by big white spotlights. To her right was a small shed with a light on in it, and inside she could see two people talking. No one else was walking around. She eased herself down out of the truck (her feet still tingled) and shut the door. Then, as if every dog in the neighborhood was after her, she ran across the open space of the parking lot to a row of trucks on the other side. She slipped into the shadows. From there she could see the gate opening into the parking lot -- and of course she was going to have to go right by the shed to get out. This was an adventure all right -- and she wanted to be home in her bed, asleep and bored.
She moved along the line of trucks, keeping to the shadows, until she was opposite the gate. She kept going until she reached a corner of the fence, where they'd piled some old tires and junk. She thought for a moment of trying to climb the fence, but it was too high, she'd never climbed a fence before, and she'd probably make a lot of noise doing it. So she scuttled along the fence toward the gate, keeping her eyes on the two men in the shed. Soon she couldn't go any further -- she'd reached the other corner of the fence and she was going to have to go through the gate. She moved slowly toward it, trying to cover herself with shadows as much as possible, believing that if she kept her eyes straight ahead they would never see her. Finally, she was going to have to run for it -- there were no more shadows, the bright spotlight shone right down, and she was either going to have to sprint or stay next to that fence until morning. She decided to sprint.
She almost got through the gate unnoticed, but one of the men saw her and charged out of the shed after her. She had a good hundred feet headstart on him, but his legs were longer and it wouldn't be long before he caught her. But then he stopped and simply shouted at her, "Get the fuck outa here!!" She never really heard him (all she heard was the "fuck" and that scared her even more) and she just kept running as hard as she could. Her lungs burned and she could feel her legs start to turn to lead but she didn't stop, she wanted to run all the way back home (even as she realized she did not know where home was). Finally, she couldn't run anymore, and just as she slowed down she tripped over a curbing and fell, square and hard, on her right knee. Bam!! She had never felt anything hurt so much in her life.
She sat down on the curb and cried, holding her knee, feeling completely alone. No mom to tell her it was all right and don't cry (she always was a little rough that way) and wash it off, no mother to comb back her hair and kiss her forehead as she put on a bandage. And the knee was certainly bleeding. She'd torn her pants and the blood was soaking through. She straightened her leg out and felt through her pockets -- she was going to have to make a bandage for herself. (For some reason she'd stopped crying.) In her jacket pocket she found a dress for Barbie (how did that get there?) and in her back pocket she found a piece of kite string. She rolled up her pants leg, wrapped Barbie's dress around it, tied the dress with the string, and rolled the pants leg back down. It looked like an elephant's knee, but it didn't bleed anymore.
She got up and gingerly put weight on her leg, limping a little as she walked. She had no idea where she was. She was on a street with stores and restaurants, all locked up. She was tired and her lungs hurt. She didn't know what city she was in, what state she was in. Suddenly, she remembered she could call home, but then also suddenly remembered she only had a dollar bill and no change, so that meant no public phone and there was no one around to lend her a phone. She thought about going back to the shed but was pretty sure that they'd be so mad at her that they'd wouldn't help her.
The streets were lonely and she was tired and all she wanted to do was go home.
