It went like clockwork. Waterproof, a change of clothes, money, pills, food and torch were all in my bag, ready. I left the camera out. Packed the sleeping bag (hidden under my bed), made my way to the unlocked back door. I quietly shut the door behind me using both hands. I turned and stood on the back step. This was exciting. I was really wired. I moved to walk round the house and sneak out the front to the street when a figure rose up in front of me. I have to admit I gave out a little yelp. It was Katyia, bag in hand, black leather jacket zipped up to the neck.
She looked at me with that way of hers I was learning to recognise, head tilted on one side, eyebrows raised, eyes wide. It was a sort of 'what are you going to do about it' look clearly visible in the street light. I gestured crossly for her to go ahead down the path away from the house.
She strode on ahead of me and didn't stop till she was round the corner, out of sight of the house.
"I've been waiting for you," she said before I could say anything.
"How did you know?" I asked.
"Er unlocking the back door, excess of sandwiches, retrieving waterproof coat ... remember, I've done this a few times before, junior. You are going to need my help. What's the plan then?" she smiled. Her eyes glittered in the street light, her face was animated. She was excited, too.
"You can't come. It...'
"Yes I can," she broke in. "I've lived on the street before, n
months when I was fifteen, your age. I know where to go, where not to go, and how to avoid the cops."
"What about your Mum?"
"She doesn't want me, I don't want her. I'm all done with that. I don't want anybody to tell me what to do, I wanna be free!" She almost shouted the last word and did a little pirhouette, her arms held up above her head, laughing. Up and down like a sky rocket, this one I thought. "Come on, I've got some friends we can stay with tonight."
"But what about their parents?"
"Parents? No parents to worry about where we are going. They live in a squat, free as birds. Come on." She had already started walking up the street so I had to run to catch her up. I was put out, really, she'd stolen my escape, taken over, but to be honest deep down I was relieved - to have somewhere to go and to have the decision made for me - and I was glad of the company.
Walking through the town in the early hours of the morning, sticking to the little roads where the "pig carts" were unlikely to go (according to Katyia), in a night lit up like day by the orange glow of the street lamps but with deep dark pockets of shadow everywhere, was strange. The light reminded me of that last shot I did of the old house. It was like walking through an empty stage set, all the actors and technicians gone home. In the middle of a city of hundreds of thousands of people but it felt like we were the only people in it. Somehow that made us feel able to talk as if there was no one to hear, the warm light made us feel safe, and being in neutral territory it felt OK to say things I wouldn't in my daytime world. Katyia was very direct, she didn't creep up on things sideways like my Mum and Dad did.
"I'm running away because I have had enough of people controlling my life, enough of," she paused, "enough of people letting me down. From now on, Mic," she said looking at me in that direct way of hers, "from now on I'm my own boss. I decide what I do, when, why and who with and tonight I'm going to walk through my town at," she checked her phone, "2.30 in the morning with my new beau," I gave her a startled look, "Don't worry," she laughed, "just a figure of speech, my new friend, to see some old friends at number 64 Beaumont Street. Friends, Mic, who won't ask any questions, who will just say, 'hi'. Now tell me why you are running away."
YOU ARE READING
Phoenix and the Bag Man
Ficção Adolescente"The Bag Man did it," said Phoenix gently, "and we want revenge." I was staring into a face that I loved, tears streaming down my face, and in Katyia's eyes there was sorrow and pain too, she was feeling for me, matching my grief every step of the w...
