Chapter Two point Four

I lay my head against the window as the bus passed through another small town. Tears streamed down my face and I closed my eyes, hoping it would all just go away. I fell asleep thinking of the talk I had with my biological father the year before.
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"Come in. Have a seat." My father nodded at the chair before his desk. I stepped into the room through the double doored entrance. The office, like the rest of the house, was impeccable. It was one of the finest houses on the golf course.  I'd never been in such an incredible house.  The ceiling rose twenty feet in the main entry, the view out the back windows was overlooking the whole valley and the rest of the city. I swallowed and sat down. My eyes took in the right wall, panelled with dark wooden bookshelves. There were a few books, a few framed photos, but not a spec of dust. My stepmother, Patsy, saw to that. Every inch of the house was clean and organized.

He pulled out his own chair, behind the impressive desk, and sat down.

"So you and I are going to have a little talk. You understand?" His voice was hard, demanding. I nodded. "So what's this I hear about you not listening to your mother?"  His dark eyes stared at me intently as he waited for my response.  His presence was intimidating. I took a deep breath.

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain. I'm, I'm, I'm not sure if you'll understand." I stuttered.
"Try me." He said.
"They're drinking and doing drugs all the time." I said.
"Who's they?" He asked.
"My mom and Greg." I answered.
"Well how would you know that?" He asked. I raised my eyebrows and looked at him.
"Because I've seen it." I said. He leaned forward in his chair.
"Ok, tell me what you saw. What the fuck is going on over there?"
So I told him.

I couldn't sleep.  The noise was so loud.  I threw off my covers in frustration and opened the window.  "Can you guys keep it down!" I called out to them.  I heard laughter, one of men even went so far as to repeat me in a high pitched voice. "Can you keep it down!" The group laughed.

"Go to bed." Someone said.

"I'm trying to go to bed.  You guys are too loud.  If you're outside why do you have to have the music in the house playing so loud?" I returned.

"So that we can hear it!" Someone replied.  There was renewed laughter.  I shut the window.


Just then the door opened and a little body filled the doorway.
"I can't sleep" My little sister said.  I took her five year old hand and led her to my bed.  I handed her my teddy bear.

"Stay here and cuddle my little bear.  I'll be right back and you can stay with me." I whispered.  Then I left the room.  I walked down the hall, blinking at the bright lights in the living room.  The old Sony sound system was blaring honky-tonk country music.  I glared at it and then took in the rest of the living room.  Piles of clothing were strewn everywhere.  Mens jeans, womens panties, t-shirts.  Every surface available had at least two or three empty bottles on it.  The house smelled of stale cigarette smoke, dog urine and spilt beer.  The two pot plants next to the TV almost took up the whole front window.  They stank, too.  I looked at the clock.  It was 2am.  On a school night. 


I snuck quietly down the stairs and looked out the door.  There were about 8 people in the hot tub out on the front deck.  The steam rose from the pool and in the dark I couldn't see their faces.  I could see the beer bottles  and cans surrounding the tub.  Someone had a joint lit and they were passing it around.  I could see the warm cherry as it brightened with each toke.  I took a deep breath.  This was not okay.  I couldn't let this be ok.  It seemed like these parties were happening almost every night.  The next morning I would be responsible for getting the kids ready for school.  The bus came at 7am.  This wasn't fair!


I set my jaw and locked the door.  "Fuck em."  I thought and went back to the bedroom, stopping to lock the other doors and turn off the music.  I turned off the lights in the living room and went to bed. My little sister was still awake.  She turned her big blue eyes to mine.  
"It's quiet now." She said.
"Yeah." I replied. Not for long. I thought. 


I cracked the window so that I could hear what was going on. She snuggled up to me and closed her eyes.  I held her and stroked her hair.  It was long and soft and white.  She was so beautiful.  I kissed her forehead and waited.  

They must have been quite out of it, because it took a while for them to realize that the music had stopped.  "Turn the fucking music on!" A male voice yelled.  I didn't move.  "The little bitch turned the music and the lights off." He said.  Then I heard my mother.  Her voice was slurred and druken.
  
"Cassandra!" She yelled.  "Turn the music back on, right NOW!" 
I waited.
There was a splashing sound as someone stumbled out of the hot tub, knocking over beer bottles, stumbling towards the door.

"It's locked!  That little cunt LOCKED the fucking door!" He said.


I smiled.


"You're telling me that you locked them out of the house? Naked?" My father asked.

"Yes, sir." I said.

"What did they do?" He asked.

"I think they must have gone to someone else's house." I said.  "I didn't see them until after school.  Then I was slapped across the face and grounded forever."

"How do you know they were smoking pot?" He asked.
"Because I caught my mom rolling green stuff in a rolling paper.  I asked her if it was what I thought it was.  She said yes." I said.

"Do you do drugs?" He asked.
"No! In school they say that drugs are bad, that bad people do drugs.  They teach us to say no, to call the police.  I didn't call the police because I don't want my mom to go to jail.  You have to talk to them.  Tell them to be normal again, please." I begged.

"I'll do what I can." He said.

"I don't want to be there.  Please let me stay here with you." I asked.

"No, you can't." He said.  My heart sank.

The next day spring break ended and I was sent back to Alberta.


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The bus came to a stop, waking me from my reverie.  We had arrived in Calgary.  My heart pounded in my chest as we stepped off the bus.

"What are you going to do?" Austin asked.

"I'm going to hide." I said.  "I'm not going back.  I'm going to call social services and ask them to take me to the runaway shelter."  I hugged him.

"I'm going back." He said.

"I know.  It's okay.  Look out for the little ones for me, okay?  Tell them I'm sorry I had to leave them behind.  I don't know how I'm going to take care of myself - I can't take care of them too."

"Yeah." He said and walked towards the door.

I grabbed my bag, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then ran a few buses down and crouched behind the shadow of a bus.  I stayed there for a long time.  It might have been half and hour, maybe an hour.  Then I stood up and went into the terminal.  It was mostly empty.  I crossed over to the payphone and lifted the reciever.  I dialed the 1-800 number.

"Kids Help Line" A female voice answered.

"Hi.  I need help.  I ran away.  I can't go back."

"Where are you?" She asked.

"In the bus station, in Calgary." I said.

"Stay where you are, I'll call a local worker to come see you and get you some help. What is your name?"

"Cassandra."

"How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen."

Chapter Two point Three

Snapping out of the memory I sat down on the cement wall of the beach walkway and took a sip of my coke.  It was cold, and I savoured the fizzy bubbles tickling my tongue.  We didn’t get sweets much where I used to be.  To have a real coke is a luxury.  That hell-hole.  If I could bomb one place in the world - that would be it.  Rocky Mountain Academy.  Just thinking it’s name gave me the shivers and a pain in my chest.  I had never been so afraid or alone in all my life.  I wasn’t certain which was worse.  The events leading up to my incarceration there…or the time there itself.  

I stared out over the water of lake Okanagon and went over the pyscologists last question. Our time had ended early and I didn’t get to finish telling him about what happened after we stole the car and had the accident.

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  The sun had crested the horizon and was bathing the car in the light of early morning.  I opened the passenger door and stepped out to survey the damage.

We were at the bottom of the ditch, about 60-70 feet away from the road down what felt like a 45 degree slope.  Miraculously the car had slid between the posts of a barbed wire fence.  There wasn’t even six inches of space on either side.

“Holy shit!  I can’t believe the car went between those posts!  Talk about luck.” I said excitedly.  Austin stepped out of the car.  ”What exactly happened?” I asked him.

“I must have fallen asleep.” He mumbled.  ”One minute I was driving, listening to Snoop Dog, and the next I was on the other side of the road.  I tried to turn, but I turned too much and that’s when we started spinning.  I’m so sorry.” He hung his head.  His brown hair was disheveled, framing his face.  He leaned against the car. We were the same age, but he was older than me by a month and a day.  Something he never let me forget.  As my step-brother he was more like my friend than my brother.  My partner in crime.  Neither of us had our drivers licenses, but I had my learners permit, and I had practiced a bit.

“Let’s get back on the road.” I said and opened the driver’s side door.  The car started easily and I drove forward from between the posts and then climbed the hill at an angle to avoid going straight up - something I was sure the car couldn’t handle.  It’s was very steep.  Going up was almost as frightening as going down.  The car tilted unnaturally to the side, and as we crept along I kept imagining it rolling over and ending up on it’s roof at the bottom of the gully.  Finally we reached the side of the road and proceeded along the highway.  I’m sorry for running through your fence.… I thought.  Saying my prayerful apology to no one in particular.

 We kept going.  We passed quickly through several cities, often taking the back roads to avoid the police, which we were certain must be looking for the car by now.  We had used up all of our gas money and were running on fumes.  We were in the flat lands of Saskatchewan, on a road lined with large farms.  Being from a farming community I knew that one of those farmers would have a gas tank for filling up their farm equipment.  It didn’t take long to find one.  I don’t remember what lie we told him, but a nice old farmer filled up the car and gave us some water to drink and sent us on our way.

Finally, more than a day after we initially fled, we reached our goal.  Smalltown Manitoba.  I called my cousin from a payphone and told her we were in town.  Angeline was my idol.  She was a bit older than me, very smart and pretty, and everyone liked her. I also called the boy I had a crush on and asked if he would feed us.  He said yes and we drove out to his cabin.  We were scarfing down pizza at his place when he handed me the phone.  It was my cousin, Angeline.

“How did you get here?” She asked.

“We drove.” I said.

“But you’re only 14 and you don’t have a license.” She pointed out.

“So?” I said.

“Whose car do you have?” She asked.

“A friend of mines, I borrowed it.”

“Well everyone’s looking for you, and now we know where you are and the police are on their way.” She said tartly.

My eyes widened with incredulity.  She had told them. I couldn’t believe it.  I thought she was on my side.  But I guess she didn’t know everything. We had to move.  Fast.

“Austin!  Quick - get in the car!  We have to go now!” I yelled, heading for the door.  He scrambled toward me, stuffing the last slice of pizza in his mouth, clutching his backpack. We piled into the car and pulled onto the road out of town.

It wasn’t long until there was a police cruiser tagging along behind us.  Justin started freaking out about the pot we had in the car.  We had already smoked the only joint we had and all that was left was the roach in a film container.  

“What do we do with it?” He asked me.  

“I don’t know!” I said in panic. Just then the cop turned his lights and siren on.  For a moment I considered gunning the gas and trying to outrun him.  I envisioned us trying to evade them.  Then I realized that our dash to freedom would likely end as the car puttered to a stop from lack of gas, surrounded by cops, in more trouble than ever.

I sighed and pulled over. 

The  Courthouse.  The cells are in the basement.

Thus I spent my first night in Jail in a small town  in Manitoba.  In total there were four of us in there.  Two native teenage boys were in the same cell as Justin - and I was in a cell by myself.  We could put our heads up against the door of our cells and see each other.  It was intense and boring all at the same time.  Our turn to see the magistrate came and we were handcuffed and led upstairs to the courtroom.

There, seated no far in front of me, was my uncle Laurence.  I smiled at him. 

“What are you doing here Uncle Laurence?” I asked.

“I’m not your Uncle right now, I’m the magistrate required to figure out what to do with you.” He said sternly.

I shook my head.  This was not going well.  I had no idea he was a judge or a magistrate or whatever the fuck that meant.  I zoned out and stared at the floor.  Time passed.  Voices spoke.  I was too afraid to care what they were saying.  

“Therefore you will board a bus back to Calgary first thing in the morning, your parents will be informed of your arrival and will be there to pick you up.” The gavel gave a sharp wooden snap.  No!  No!  Please.  Don’t make me go back there.  I want to be here, with you.  I want to be a part of your family… But the words went unspoken and we were led back to our cells.

I lay awake, determined to find a way to escape what felt like impending doom.  By the time we got on the bus I had it all planned out. There was no way I was going back.  No way at all…

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