Between (First Two Chapters Only)

Chapter 2:2

I had some money in my purse for gas, but I needed transportation. I had at least four options: our van, Aunt Evelyn's Jeep, Uncle Greg's truck, and Evan's Cavalier. Dad would have his keys in his pocket. It would be impossible to get them, so our van was out. If we parked in front of the garage like always, we would block one of the vehicles, hopefully, the truck. Loaded with tools and equipment, it would be my last choice for a getaway vehicle. That left the Jeep and Evan's car.

I knew that the Gray's kept their keys on a plaque in the kitchen. But how would I get them without anyone noticing? It would all depend on who was there. If I was speaking to my parents, I would ask them, but I didn't want to arouse their suspicion.

I should be ashamed of myself for even thinking about ditching Emma's funeral and disappointing my family, but I only felt relief. Any future punishment no matter how extreme would be easier than having to endure people's fake sympathy.

Satisfied with my plan, I closed my eyes and tried to get some more rest. I fell asleep listening to Third Day singing Revelation on the radio and woke when we pulled into the driveway beside a blue car.

The vehicles in the garage were now blocked, and I didn't see any of the Gray's vehicles along the street. Jimmy unfastened his belt and jumped out of the van before it came to a complete stop. I took my time, not only because it was difficult to maneuver in the skirt, but also because it was painful to enter Emma's house with the knowledge that she would never come home again.

Mom, Dad, and I walked up the curved sidewalk in front of the house. Jimmy ran. Before he could knock, the door opened, and Evan let us in. His blue eyes had lost all their sparkle; they were red-rimmed and filled with sadness. "Come in. Mom and Dad are talking to Pastor Bob and Gladys."

Jimmy jumped into Evan's arms and hugged his neck. "I love you, Evan."

"I love you too, Buddy." Evan carried Jimmy into the living room and the rest of us followed.

Since I spent many summers with the Gray's, I knew the pastor and his wife well. With his white hair and long beard and her short curly ash blonde hair, they resembled Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus. Two nicer people never existed.

They were sitting beside Uncle Greg and Aunt Evelyn on the couch. The past few days had aged my uncle; he looked ten years older. His brown hair had more gray, and his face had more lines. 

My aunt had dark circles underneath red, puffy eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her posture was stiff and straight like a thin, invisible wire was holding her up, and it wouldn't take much for it and her to break.

"Thank you for conducting the memorial service." Aunt Lyn thanked Pastor Morris, but she looked straight at me when she spoke. "We will be celebrating Emma's life, not mourning her death. Emma wouldn't want us to be sad. She's home with Jesus now."

I wondered what my mom had told her.

"We will be at the church at 2:30," Uncle Greg informed the pastor.

The men stood up and shook hands. Gladys squeezed both of Aunt Lyn's hands.

Pastor Morris gestured to all of us and said, "We'll see everyone at the church later." Then he and Gladys left.

Mom sat beside Aunt Lyn on the couch.

"Is there anything we can get you before the service?" Dad asked.

"We haven't had time to wash the Jeep yet. Why don't all of us guys go do that while the ladies talk?" Uncle Greg suggested.

"Yay," Jimmy danced with delight.

"Don't let him get soaked," Mom warned Dad as the men hurried out of the room. 

I wished I could go too. Instead, I sat beside Aunt Lyn. "Thanks for coming, Emily. I know how hard this is for you."

I pressed my lips together and nodded. I was afraid to speak, uncertain of what would come out of my mouth. God knew that I didn't want to be here.

Aunt Lyn gently brushed a wayward lock of hair out of my eyes and placed it behind my ear. "We're going to make it through this."

I just nodded again. My chest started to hurt. "Aunt Lyn, do you mind if I go into Emma's bedroom?" 

"No. Go right ahead."

I escaped to Emma's room before the sorrow suffocated me. I needed some fresh air. I opened the window and looked out into the backyard, not seeing the view, but remembering, playing tag, climbing trees, riding bikes, singing, laughing, living . . . When the nostalgia faded, I noticed Evan's Cavalier parked alongside the alley. Just what I needed for my getaway vehicle!

I also wanted a change of clothes. Fortunately, Emma and I were the same size. I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from her drawer, folded them into little squares, and stuffed them in my purse, which was too small for a pair of sneakers. I would have to make do with my flats.

Now I needed a piece of paper. I found a notebook on top of Emma's desk and ripped out a page. I grabbed a pen and scribbled a note.

Evan,

Sorry for borrowing your car without permission.

I'll be back before dark.

Love,

Emily

All I needed now were Evan's keys. I only had a few minutes before the guys returned. I crept down the hallway into the kitchen. The counter and table were filled with casserole dishes of all shapes and sizes, enough food to feed the family for a month. Only one set of keys were hanging on the plaque: Evan's. I stole them off the hook and placed the note on the counter. I sneaked out the back door and ran to the car.

In less than a minute, I was driving down the alley. I turned right onto the street and headed south, in the opposite direction as the car wash. I was so close to freedom. To be caught now would be devastating.

Running away was the most outrageous act I'd ever attempted in my life. I surprised myself with my audacity, but I was determined to say goodbye to my best friend, in my own way, in private. Emma would completely understand. She was the only person on this planet who knew the real me. 

I couldn't even begin to imagine life without her. All of my plans for the future revolved around Emma. We planned to go to college, get married, have babies, and raise our children together, just like our mothers did. How could I tell her goodbye?

Trying not to cry, I checked the gas gauge: half a tank. I should get off the main road soon, in case my parents had the police out looking for me. I'd been so busy planning my escape that I forgot to figure out where to hide. It should be someplace special.

Suddenly, I knew exactly where to go: Ricketts Glen, a secluded state park only a half an hour away from Emma's house. I could change in the restroom at the picnic area and be deep in the woods before the memorial service even started.