Without Destination

Without Destination

The moon flitted between wispy clouds, bouncing beams of light between branches to reflect off smooth concrete and smoother sheets of water pooled near the edges of the recently watered yard. A lone cricket chirped softly somewhere through the semi-darkness, the last of his kind still awake at this late hour. A soft breeze rustled the leaves in a tree and scooted a handful of recently fallen leaves, scraping them across the sidewalk and then plopping them into a puddle with a splashless circling of ripples. Blue black shadows of rose bushes bowed in the breeze as if shrugging off the sudden chill. The night was calm and peaceful and beautiful.

David didn’t notice any of it. All he heard was the blood pumping in his ears and the wind rushing by as he raced down the street. All he saw was the blurry outline of the street ahead and his hands as they occasionally came to his face to wipe the tears away. He regretted now more than ever that his family had moved here. Here to this isolated lot in a new subdivision. The first home in the area. The only people for miles. Their house was beautiful and the neighborhood would soon fill with great neighbors and new kids for him to play with. But all he could see now was the endless emptiness stretching out before him.

His feet pounded robotically against the concrete of the sidewalk then onto the asphalt as the sidewalk ended and the world turned into a snake of smooth black roads running between flattened hills of cool brown earth.

His chest burned with each breath. He was the fastest fifth grader at the 100 yard dash in Stoneman Elementary. His teacher told him he was probably the fastest in the district but they wouldn’t know until next week. He loved running around the schoolyard playing tag with his friends. He pictured the bouncing pigtails of Susie Tomlinson sprinting away ahead of him. He always liked letting her think she was going to get away by slowing down as he neared and then pushing on with a sudden sprint of energy. It drove her crazy and she always screamed about the injustice of it while he just laughed and raced away.

But he had long since passed 100 yards and even on the schoolyard he stopped for a breather. But now he didn’t dare stop. He didn’t even dare slow down to glance over his shoulder to where he had come. Pushing through the pain and the strain, he focused on the small shapes in the distance ahead of him, putting all other thoughts out of his mind.

All he could do was run.

And run.

And run.

And this time, he couldn’t call no touchbacks.

This time, he had to make it without being tagged.

David raced down the road, wondering how far he’d come. On either side of the wide black path nothing broke the landscape for miles. Up ahead, a large black rectangle silhouetted against the purple-black sky behind it, a larger boxy shape poking up next to it. The construction office and model home site. Beyond that, another five miles to the nearest home and a mile more to the freeway with the gas station tucked in below trees and houses. David strained to see the potential gleam of a gas station sign glowing in the distance. All he saw was shadow and darkness.

He knew there was no way he’d reach the gas station. His only hope was the construction office. He wondered suddenly if he could even make it that far. Tears welled up again as he thought about it. He suddenly became acutely aware of his feet and legs. His feet slammed like anvils against the road sending massive shock waves up his calves and burning into his knees and thighs. His legs felt like hot licorice, gooey and ready to melt away into nothing yet somehow remaining a perfect tube wobbling in your hands.

He was ready to collapse. Ready to fall flat in the dirt and await the inevitable. A few yards ahead, a dark shape began to form. Brushing away the moisture from his eyes, David realized it was a tractor, resting after a hard day’s work of clearing away dirt for a new foundation. To his left, the light blackness of the dirt gave way to a deep blackness of a freshly dug hole. Straight ahead, the construction office and model home were larger now. The light and shadows played with his eyes and made it impossible to judge distance accurately but the distance felt distinctly familiar, nearly the same distance as from the school wall to the white line 100 yards away when he raced against the class.

His record for 100 yards was 10.68 seconds. But that was after a good warm up stretch, not after running for a mile already at full speed. Still, he counted down the time in his mind.

One-thousand one.

One-thousand two.

One-thousand three.

One-thousand four.

One-thousand five.

One-thousand six.

One-thousand seven.

It felt like about halfway, but he couldn’t be sure.

One-thousand eight.

His chest felt ready to explode. His heart drummed against his ribs in protest.

One-thousand nine.

One-thousand ten.

So close. Nearly there.

One-thousand eleven.

One-thousand twelve.

Windows and doors took shape. Twinkles of starlight reflected on the black panes of glass dotting the front of the buildings.

One-thousand thirteen.

David focused on the door knob of the office, praying it was unlocked, knowing it would be locked.

One-thousand fourteen.

His right foot hit the concrete of the short sidewalk running from the road to the office door.

He hadn’t completed ‘one-thousand fifteen’ when his hands slammed firmly against the door of the office. The metal walls of the portable building shook in response to his small frame jarring to a stop against the door.

In spite of himself, David stood still, deep gasps of breath coursing through him. His eyes burned like coals as blood surged through his veins, striving to replace the oxygen so deprived during his mile-long sprint to the office.

Suddenly remembering the purpose of his run, David swallowed hard and twisted the doorknob intently. Not surprised to find it locked, he looked around for another way in. He could easily break the window to the side of the door. But the bottom of the window was above his head and he didn’t know if he could pull himself up and in even if he managed a clean break that wouldn’t dice his fingers like carrots as he climbed. He started glancing over his shoulder then forced himself not to. He didn’t want to know what was back there.

He circled around the side of the office. Another window hung halfway up the short wall of the office, still above his head, but this time a large box air conditioner lay on the ground close enough that he could stand waist high next to the window. Quickly scanning the surroundings, he found a softball sized rock. Holding the rock firmly he bounced it against the glass.

David hadn’t heard much glass shatter in his short life but they all played back in his mind as the window exploded under his hand. He heard his mother’s crystal wine glass shattering into a million pieces against the tile in the kitchen. He heard the windshield explode outward behind the crunch of metal in the car crash last summer. He heard the glass apple fall off the desk of his fourth grade teacher Mrs. Adelaide. He heard the sound of something unknown shattering outside his closed bedroom door earlier that night sending chills up his spine.

The crashing tinkling sound of glass breaking filled the air as glass fell over his bare skin in small shimmering silver white pebbles. A few shards of glass hung around the edges of the window frame. He raked the rock against them and knocked the frame mostly clean.

He threw the rock into the darkness and pressed his hands against the wood. A sharp stinging in his right hand told him where he had missed some glass. Pressing again, he winced through the pain then remembered something from some show he’s watched. He took off his pajama shirt and wrapped it around his hand then pushed against the wood again. Some blood was already coming through his palm, but at least this time, there wasn’t additional pain from the window. As he pressed himself into the office, he scraped his back against a sliver of glass and tumbled hard onto the floor of the office.

Shaken and dazed by the pain in his back and his hand and the disorientation from falling into the office, David leaned against a nearby filing cabinet, shocked for a moment at the shrill chill of the smooth metal. Inside the office, closed away from the night by four walls and a locked door, he sat for a moment and let his breathing and his pulse slow down. Adrenaline surged through his veins like water through a hose so it was only a matter of seconds before he pushed himself up and tried to figure out his new surroundings.

He remembered the office vaguely from when he had come with his parents a few times last spring and through the summer. The smell of cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. David coughed on the taste and then doubled over in a fit of coughs more from his overexertion than the smoke smell. With his hands on his knees, David closed his eyes and tried to focus his thoughts and slow his breathing, something his dad had taught him when he was running laps around the soccer field earlier that summer.

He pictured his mom, dad and little sister Sammie all sitting around the table. He remembered teasing Sammie earlier that night about something but he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d teased her for. He remembered seeing her burst into tears while he just laughed. He remembered shouting back at his parents when they sent him to his room. The tears flowed again.

David let the tears come.

The coughing slowed but he continued to gasp and his breathing turned into heaving sobs. He looked up and saw the shadowy shape of a large desk in the middle of the room. He leaned both hands hard against the desk and continued to cry.

He didn’t really hate his sister. But he never told her as much. He couldn’t remember his last words to her except that they made her cry. And he was sure now that he wouldn’t have any more to say to her. At least he’d got to tell his mom and dad sorry and that he loved them when they come in.
Still leaning hard against the desk, he swept his hand over the grey-white phone in the corner and pulled it to him then pressed the numbers.

9
1
1

The phone rang and he exploded into tears again. Between gasping sobs, he heard a heavy male voice on the other end ask what was wrong and where he was. David blubbered out something that even he couldn’t distinguish as Mountainside Estates. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the night. But as he closed his eyes, he saw his mom burst into his bedroom and toss his shoes to him and tell him to run. Her hair was caked with blood.

He lashed his eyes open and focused on the small lit number display on the phone, gasping his breathing into slow deep breaths.

“I’m in the *gasp* construction office building *gasp* at Mountainside Estates. Please **gasp* please help*gasp* me.”

He closed his eyes again. He didn’t mean to. He heard his mother say she was going to get his sister and disappear out of his room. Somewhere in the house, something clamored to the floor. Glass shattered through the darkness and sent chills up his spine. Then something loud popped. Twice. He knew they were gunshots even though they didn’t sound quite like they did on TV.

“Come on son, tell me what’s happened.”

The voice on the other end of the phone was patient but firm. David shook his eyes open and tried to speak the words.

“My mom. *sob* My *sob* mom and dad and *sob* sister. I. *sob* They. Someone in our house. I heard the gun. I just ran. I don’t know what happened. I…”

His voice trailed off as he realized suddenly that the room wasn’t as dark as it had been.

“Hello? Are you still there? Hello?” There was genuine concern in the voice on the other end of the phone.

The office wasn’t bright, but light and darkness churned around him like in the spook alleys where small strobe lights flash through thick fog. Glancing at a wall, he saw light bouncing off the glass in a picture frame behind the desk. Taking half a step towards the center of the office, David glanced out the window next to the door. Two headlights were pointed towards the office and slowly moving up the street towards him.

“He’s coming!” David screamed into the phone. “There’s a car coming. Help. *gasp* Please. Help me.”

David was hyperventilating. His breathing was sporadic. He dropped the phone and spun in a circle, looking around the dark office for a place to hide. A place to escape. A muffled voice slurred through the phone.

David thought about jumping out the window and trying to get into the model home to hide. At least it was bigger. As he looked at the broken window, he saw it was at least 20 feet to the model home. The door was probably locked and he wasn’t sure he could find a window to get through. Besides, whoever was in the car would surely see him on his way across. He raced to the corner of the office next to the door and huddled on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest.

He watched the light bounce over the opposite wall of the office, filling more and more of the wall with each passing second. Whoever was driving the car wasn’t in any hurry. David hoped that the driver would just keep on going. That he wouldn’t stop. That he had no idea David even existed and there would be no reason even to stop.

He wondered who it was behind the wheel. Who it was that had come into his house. Had hurt his mom and made her bleed. Had made her scared. Had broken whatever it was got broken and had shot the gun.

Maybe it was his mom that shot the gun. Maybe she had shot whoever it was that broke in on them. Maybe she had saved them all and was now out looking for him. Maybe the car would stop and he’d hear her calling for him. He was still breathing heavy, but he tried to slow down and listen hard for any sound.

He heard something that sounded like a voice but couldn’t quite make it out. It definitely wasn’t his mom. Wasn’t a woman at all. He realized it was coming from the phone and he glanced over at the desk. The phone handset hung suspended just above the floor, dangling from the cord down the side of the desk. A small yellow light shone from the base of the phone itself. David cringed at the light. It felt like a spotlight shining up through the otherwise blackened office. It felt like it was shining straight out the window, a beacon to the driver of the car, a flashing neon sign blinking to the driver, announcing the presence of someone in the office.

He thought about diving for the desk, hanging the phone up and diving back into the corner. He crouched up into position to spring at the desk when a new voice pierced the air.

“DAVID?”

Someone called his name. The voice was familiar but he couldn’t place it. His stomach felt like it had been turned inside out. A car door slammed and the voice came again.

“David? Are you in there?”

David heard rock and dirt scrape as someone walked across the dirt rather than up the sidewalk. David looked again at the phone, hoping that whoever was on the other end had sent out the SWAT team. That any minute there would be sirens in the air and red and blue strobing lights bouncing off the walls.

David held his breath and listened.

The doorknob rattled. David jumped without meaning too. He pulled his knees back to his chest. Something clinked against the front window. An amorphous shadow blocked out the white light against the far wall. David craned his neck, trying to look along the wall to see who it was peering through the window. Then he glanced back at the desk and the small yellow light on the phone. He closed his eyes and buried his head in his knees.

He counted again.

One-thousand one.

One-thousand two.

One-thousand three.

Something tapped lightly at the window. “David. I know you’re in there. Come on out bud.” David started breathing faster.

One-thousand four.

David’s breathing was sporadic. He felt his blood throbbing in his ears again.

One-thousand five.

One-thousand six.

The doorknob rattled again. “David. Get out here now!”

One-thousand seven.

Something pounded hard against the door. THUD.
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One-thousand eight.

THUD.

One-thousand nine.

Crash. The door pounded inward. David’s head shot up. The door hung limply on its hinges, open and leaning against his legs, blocking his pursuer from view. David sat absolutely still and held his breath. He stared at the door in front of him.

His thoughts jumped through the night.

The yellow light from the phone. The cool metal from the filing cabinet. The sharpness of the window on his hand. The shattering glass of the window. The abandoned tractor and empty hole. His ears pounding and his legs and chest throbbing. Distant car doors shutting. Muffled voices. Soft footsteps scraping against rocks and dirt. Pulling his shoes on and climbing down the fire ladder out of his room. The gunshots. The shattering of glass. His mom racing out of his room. The blood on his mom’s forehead. His sister crying.

The door creaked as it pulled back. David looked up and saw a figure in the darkness. He stepped forward, the door blocking the light. With the remaining light behind him, David couldn’t make out the features of his face, but he did see a slightly lighter shadow of a gun in his hand.

“Hello David.”

David jumped in horror as three gunshots exploded through the night. He closed his eyes and waited, then suddenly realized that he wasn’t hurt. Wasn’t dead. Something clattered in front of him and he saw a body lying on the floor. He closed his eyes, buried his head in his knees and breathed heavy again. He needed to cry, but instead he just gasped at the night air around him. He kept his eyes pressed tight together. Voices grew louder. Footsteps plodded into the room.
David’s thoughts wandered again. He heard the voices. He even opened his eyes and lifted his head. But everything was a blur. He wiped his hand against his eyes and tears came away. Even clearing the tears from his eyes, he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. He couldn’t understand what he was hearing.

He was inside a cloud. He watched himself be picked up by a large man dressed in dark blue with a silver badge hanging from his belt. He watched himself be carried out of the office and placed into a black and white car a hundred feet away. He watched himself move into his cousin’s house. He watched himself go to school. Sit in a desk. Open books. Write his name. Sit on the couch. Sleep in a bed. He watched himself year after year. He watched the world go on around him. He sat in the corner of the dark construction office and watched David grow up, grow old, and eventually die. He watched himself set into the coffin, lowered into the ground and buried. He watched the people stand over his grave and then leave to go back to their homes. He watched. And he watched. Then he closed his eyes and drifted away.