"I know. Me too," she said. "I'm still thinking about having your father take us on a holiday. Maybe now, more than ever," she added, and went off to talk to Mrs. Geary about the dinner menu.
Of course. I hated being even slightly deceitful. I was in a conflict, a part of me wanting to please Harley and a part of me hating what I would do to Mommy and Daddy by sneaking off. I decided I had better spend a lot more time writing the note I was going to leave behind, so as to make sure I said everything right and made them understand why I had to go and why I hoped they would forgive me.
I sat at my desk and began, writing the first sentence and then disliking it and rewriting and rewriting, crumpling the paper four times before I decided I should just write everything simply and honestly. There was no way to disuise the reality of what I was about to do anyway.
Dear Mommy and Daddy,
A few days ago, Harley made a startling discovery. He learned who his real father is and where he is. He -wants to go visit him, and he has asked me to go with him. I know he is very nervous about it, maybe even afraid of being disappointed. He needs me with him. The discovery and his new hopes have helped him cope with his great tragedy and sorrow, and I am so happy for him, I have agreed to go.
I know you will be upset about this. I know how much youworry about me, but I also believe youwill be understanding and forgive me. I will call you as soon aswe arrive and let you know where we are and whatwe are going to do.
Despite your own misfortune, Mommy, you have always been a giving person, and you have taught me to be the same way. No one is more compassionate than you, Daddy, so you should understand as well.
Love, Summer
I folded it and put it in an envelope which I would leave at my place by the breakfast table. After that, I chose the things I would take and filled my best soft carry-on bag. Once all that was completed. I had nothing to do but wait. My stomach felt as if it was filled with bubbles popping. I tried reading; I tried watching television. Nothing stopped it. I heard Mommy and Daddy talking softly on their way to bed. Just hearing their voices made me feel more terrible about my secret trip with Harley. They were going to sleep at ease and in the morning, they would be filled with concern. Had I done a horrible thing? Would it be even more horrible to back out now? If so. Harley would be devastated.
I didn't think my legs would work when the time came to go downstairs. I was sure I would trip and make a racket. Somehow. I managed to glide over the floor and down the stairs, barely causing a creak. The whole house seemed to be holding its breath along with me. I paused in the entryway, looked back as if I was saying goodbye forever, and then slipped out the front door.
It was a partly overcast night with a large cloud blocking the moonlight, but I was able easily to see Harley standing in front of the garage. He looked as still as a dream. I took a deep breath and hurried to him.
"Hi," he said.
"Everything go all right?"
"I think so." I said glancing back.
"Okay. Let's go," he said, which turned my heart into a race car engine.
We walked through the shadows and down to the road. Once there, he handed me the extra helmet and showed me how to fasten it. Then we attached my carry-on bag to the rear of the motorcycle.
"Here we go," he said. "Just keep your arms around me if you want or hold onto the handles.Ill go slowly," he promised.
I couldn't speak. I nodded even though he wouldn't see it: then he started the engine, shifted, and we were off.
"Too windy?" he shouted back.
"No, it's fine," I said. but I put my head against him anyway. I closed my eyes, too.
Ordinarily this road was quiet even in the daytime. This late at night there was no one else on it. Every fifteen or twenty minutes. Harley would ask how I was doing.
Harley's plan was for us to get a goo
d start, maybe riding for four or five hours, and then check into a motel and rest until midmorning. We would ride all the following day. He believed we would make it to the upstate New York village late in the afternoon or early in the evening. As it turned out, he was worrying too much about me and decided to stop after only three hours.
We found a relatively inexpensive motel off the highway just outside Baltimore. Maryland. Part of its neon sign was broken and the wood cladding on the units looked like it needed a complete refurbishing. There were only two other units occupied, but we were afraid we might have to ride quite a distance to find another place.
When I dismounted, I felt myself spin. Harley steadied me and laughed.
"A little different from horseback riding, huh?"
"I feel like I'm still moving," I said.
He got us a room with two double beds. It smelled musty and the lights were so weak they made the walls look even a paler yellow. The rug between the two beds was worn thin, the floor beneath peeked through. I was afraid the bed wasn't very clean either. but I was so tired that as soon as I took off my shoes and lay back on the pillow. I think I actually passed out.
The tension had been exhausting. All during our ride. I continually looked back, half-expecting that Daddy had discovered my note and rushed out after us. Of course, he had no idea which direction we were heading: nevertheless, every time I heard a car behind us or saw headlights, my heart stopped and started.
The moment I lay down. Harley went into the bathroom to take a shower. The sound of the water was the last thing I heard until sunlight through the worn-thin, dusty curtain washed over my face and snapped open my eyes.