Rules of Escape

Chapter 1 - Ana

Slipping the key into the ignition, Ana shakes with excitement. Mid-afternoon sunlight dances through branches of towering cedar trees that droop and sway in the breeze. Her fingers wrap firmly around the key, but she hesitates and doesn't turn it. If she drives away now and is caught, her punishment will be severe. She glances in the rear view mirror at Carli who lies asleep on a chequered picnic blanket, surrounded by empty lunch containers.

The car's engine will certainly wake Carli, but since the car already faces downhill, escape is possible. This is my one chance. I have to take it, Ana thinks. She turns the key and immediately lets it go when the engine roars to life. She puts the gear shift in drive and clutches the wheel tightly as the car begins to roll downhill. Ahead, the steep logging road disappears around a sharp corner.

Ana wants to look back at Carli, but fears taking her eyes off the road in front of her, even for a second. The car rolls over a pothole and Ana falls forward onto the steering wheel. It's too late to put on her seat belt, she needs both hands to control the steering wheel. She takes a deep breath and presses the gas pedal. The car surges forward towards the edge of the road and the steep bank beyond.

Driving a car for real is not the same as pretending to drive from the backseat of a car. It's not the same as driving a simple all-terrain vehicle with only a power button, brake, and steering wheel to think about. It's not the same as driving go-karts around a track. What Ana is doing right now, is completely different from anything she has ever done before.

Sure, Ana has watched other people drive vehicles for years. She's paid attention to where drivers put their hands and feet and how they use the gear shift and all the different buttons and levers. And for the last couple of weeks, she's paid close attention to the rules of the road that Carli, and Ana's other caregivers, follow. She has noticed that different signs along the road mean that drivers have to do certain things, like stop, or slow down, or yield. She has watched how Carli shoulder checks and uses the side mirrors and rear view mirrors to see cars behind her. Ana studied all this, just in case, there came a day like today when she could put her knowledge to use.

The sweet taste of freedom is intoxicating, irresistible. When Ana changed a few weeks ago, it felt like a switch had been turned on inside her - as if the world had split open for her, revealing alternatives - other possibilities. She had been shredding newspapers, an action that often soothed her, when the letters became distinct and she had seen the words and knew what they said. For a brief moment, she had been able to read. After that day, when she looked at people who came to her home, or anyone for that matter, she saw that their lives were very different from her own. She saw the limitations of her own life, could imagine herself living a different, full life and remembered the one day when she had.

It is frightening and wonderful, this new knowledge, this fresh desire, Ana's secret treasure. Every night, since that day when she had read the words, she dreams about living without caregivers. She dreams about Evan and The Place.

Ana moves her foot, presses the brake pedal, and skids around the corner, inches from the cliff edge. This is her chance to escape. No more caregivers. No more people telling her what she can't do. She realizes with relief that she has, in fact, learned the basics of how to drive.

Ana thinks about her dad and how he had recognized her passion for vehicles when she was little. He sometimes let her steer their car or took her to drive go-karts around the tracks. Her parents bought her a small ATV to ride in their backyard; but when she outgrew it, it hadn't been replaced even though she had screamed and cried and thrown rocks at the people who took it away. She wonders what her parents would think if they could see her now. Would they see how she's changed? If she can just get to The Place, it won't matter what anyone thinks.