I wander for a couple of minutes, avoiding the few customers in the store. I find a pack of three razors and a small pair of scissors, knowing I need to cut the beard before I can shave it. I also find a tan baseball cap. I’m annoyed that it’s three dollars, not one dollar. I go to pay, and the teenager barely acknowledges me. I hate to part with a few dollars, but it has to be done.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I ask.
Without speaking or looking at me, he points at a back corner of the store.
In the restroom I quickly cut the bulk of my beard. I don’t like my hair. It’s long, past my shoulders. I always tie it back with a string to keep it out of my face when I’m working. I consider cutting it but decide to leave it as it is to save time. Using the perfumy soap from the restroom dispenser, I shave.
My hand shakes, but I get it all off and rinse the hair down the drain. I study my face. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a beard. Liam has cut it and then shaved it occasionally in the past, saying I scare the customers. My cheeks are smooth and the touch of my fingers on my skin feels odd. I pull the tag off the hat and try unsuccessfully to maneuver my hair up under it. I give up, then I use the toilet and double-check that I’ve left the sink clean.
As I head to the exit, I see the teenager on his phone again. There is one gray-haired woman near the kitchen supplies, but no one else is in the store now. I scan the parking lot. No white truck.
I stop at the check stand, and the teenager does a double take.
“You shaved.”
I guess he did look at me after all. “Yeah, it was itchy. Can you look something up on your phone for me?” I’d pondered how to find my parents. I knew there was a world of information available through phones, but I’d never used one myself. I’d only watched.
The teenager frowned. “Where’s yours?”
“Being repaired.”
“What do you need?”
I give him a name.
“Like look up his phone number?”
A phone number won’t help me; I don’t have a phone. “How about an address?”
“In Bend?”
“Yes.” I mentally cross my fingers.
He taps on his phone for a minute and then shows me the screen.
“That’s current?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Hard to say.” He scrolls the screen a bit. “No other addresses are listed, so most likely.”
My family is still here.
“You did that so fast.”
“You can easily find addresses if you know the name and city.”
I’m swamped with a paralyzing need to see them. “Do you sell maps?”
The teenager scratches his head. “Like a paper map? One of those folded things? No one uses those.”
I know the address but have no idea how to get there.
“Hang on.” The teen taps on his phone a few times and then shows me the screen again.
It’s a map with a red dot and the address. It means nothing to me. I have no idea where that is. I heavily exhale and run a hand across my mouth. I don’t know what to do.
He sighs and then touches the screen again. A blue line suddenly marks the route. The same mapping tool Liam uses to locate the homes for our electrical work.
“Want me to print this for you?”
“Please.”
“Hang on.”
Two minutes later I walk out of the store and stand in the sun, still in shock, my mind racing, my new hat on my head, and the map clenched in my hand. It says I can walk there in two hours.
Today I will see them.
How many other lies was I told?
A white truck passes on the busy street, and I whip out of my shock. It’s not Liam, but I’ve been distracted for several minutes. What if he’d walked in the store while I talked to the clerk? I’d completely forgotten that I need to hide. I shudder, imagining his anger if he finds me.
I need to stay alert.
I turn to continue my run behind the store, thinking about my parents. I have a new energy. A different energy than when I ran from the electrical job. I try to understand why it is different, and I realize I haven’t felt it in decades.
It’s hope.
38
It was burger Friday at Rowan’s parents’。 Even though they’d just gotten together not long ago for Malcolm’s birthday, no one ever considered changing burger Friday. It was tradition. The family believed in keeping its traditions, so special attention was given to keeping the menu different from on Malcolm’s day. Local microbrews were the drink of choice, and her mom always made a giant leafy salad with every green in season. Dessert was usually Tillamook Mudslide ice cream.