Just Hold A Smile

Illinois, 1997

 "Kid. Hey, kid." I felt a tapping on my shoulder, then a shake. "Wake up."

My eyes blinked open, squinting when they saw the sun. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. The truck wasn't comfortable, but it was better than sleeping outside or in an old barn where one might get attacked by an unusually aggressive pigeon.

"You sleep like the dead. We're getting closer to Rockford."

"I appreciate it, sir."

The man's name was Brad. He kept one hand on the wheel of the truck and used the other one to drink out of his mug. I'm pretty sure there was coffee in it. A cigarette hung from his lips. Once in a while I'd have to wave the smoke away from my eyes, even though his window was cracked open.

"What business do you got in Chicago?" Brad asked.

"Family," I said immediately, thinking of the woman who had been heading to Chicago. She would have made it there by now.

"Don't have any family that would take you there? Kid like you shouldn't be out here on your own, especially during this time of year."

What would I say to that? Tell him the truth; that I ran away from home because Johanna and Ramsay were druggies and the town hated me? Make something up that made me sound like I was a little normal?

"Ran away," I settled for. And that was all I said. I stared out the window and watched other cars pass us. The ground was covered in white. The window was cold against my cheek. I hated winter.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

I didn't want to explain anymore, and he didn't ask for further explanations. I continued to stare out the window, content to listen to the sounds of the truck. At least it was warm. My hands and toes weren't numb anymore.

Brad had let me borrow a pair of gloves. They helped keep out some of the chill. Helped a lot, actually.

"Got any plans for Chicago?" Brad asked, knocking some ash off the tip of the cigarette.

"Find the family. Try to find a job," I said, only half lying.

"How you gonna get there from Rockford?"

"Same way I'm getting to Rockford."

Brad tapped his fingers against the wheel of the truck. He used the other hand to pull the cigarette away from his lips. He held it in the air for a while, then pressed it back to his lips. The truck was filled with smoke, even with the window cracked open. I started to regret telling him I was okay with him smoking.

"I gotta friend in Rockford. He goes to Chicago pretty much every month. I don't think he's gone yet. He might be willing to make the trip with you," Brad said. "If you're willing."

"I won't be able to pay him anything."

"That's generally why people hitchhike; cause it's free."

"I don't wanna inconvenience him."

Brad let out some smoke. "Tell you what, next stop I'll give him a call and ask. I gotta get gas coming up here."

I nodded, but was pretty sure he didn't see it. I didn't know how I felt about a stranger asking his friend to give me a ride to Chicago. It was dangerous. Extremely.

But then again, hitchhiking itself was dangerous. I mean, Brad was a stranger. He could have killed someone at some point.

Didn't have a lot of choices available to me, though. If I kept walking on my own along the road, I would freeze to death most likely. I couldn't break my promise to An. I had to get to Chicago, if only to call her to let her know I was okay. I needed her to know I made it somewhere alive.