Page 10 of Day Break

“Do you have family on the island?” he asked.

I lied by nodding my head quickly.

“Where? In Greenbank?” he asked.

“Further down,” I lied again.

The man seemed happy with this answer. “Well, it’s a good thing I came along. That’s a long walk for a young lady such as yourself.”

“I appreciate the ride.” I looked out the window.

We passed trees, fields, and some small buildings. The view out of the window assured me that I was no longer in the city.

Less than fifteen minutes later, the old man pulled the truck off the main road and into a parking lot of what appeared to be a hardware store.

“This is my stop,” he said, turning to me. His eyes ran up and down me. I’d gotten used to being assessed, only now, it was different somehow.

“Are you going to be okay, sweetie?” he asked me.

Somehow, the small endearment hit me in the center of my chest.

I nodded, no longer trusting my voice.

“Well, since you have a way to walk still…” He reached into the back seat of his truck and came back with a small brown bag. “It’s my lunch. Take it.” He handed it to me. “I can grab something at the diner.” He smiled at me.

I took the bag, not wanting to argue. My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

“Thanks,” I mumbled again and climbed out before he could see just how much his kindness had affected me.

Once more, I took off walking. I didn’t stop until the hardware store was out of sight. Then I sat down on a guardrail and opened the bag.

There was a bottled water that I downed in less than a minute. An egg sandwich, a banana, and some string cheese. I devoured the entire meal in seconds.

If I’d been thinking, I would have saved something, maybe the banana, for later. Instead, I stuffed the empty paper bag into my backpack and continued walking.

By night fall, I hit a roadblock when the road stopped at water.

I had reached the edge of the island. I thought of turning around and walking back the way I had come, but once again made the mistake of sitting down.

This time, I was just past a sign that read Possession Point. The irony didn’t escape me, even in my dulled state of mind. I had no possessions. Nothing.

I sat at the top of a small hill overlooking the water and watched the sun disappear. The moment the light was gone, so was the warmth.

I’d never built a fire in the wilderness before. I worried that it would draw the attention of a park ranger or that someone who lived nearby would call the police.

Was being homeless illegal on the island?

Who cared? Maybe then at least I’d be warm.

I pulled on my other jacket and slid on a second pair of pants. Nothing seemed to help.

Wouldn’t it be summer soon? Why was it so cold?

I shivered as I lay in the grass with my backpack behind my head as a pillow. Every time I moved, the brown paper bag that the old man had given me crinkled. The sound was a reminder of the food I’d devoured hours ago, and my stomach began to complain.

Giving up, I tossed the backpack to the side. I cupped my hands behind my head and used them as a pillow. I watched the night sky, the stars flickering, the sliver of the moon rising higher into the emptiness of space.

Occasionally, there were blinking lights from planes that flew high overhead. Thankfully, I couldn’t hear their engines from this far away.