Me at 10's Arc

Chapter 3 of 9

They drive and drive. She watches the back of his head and counts telephone poles. She doesn't ask where they are or how long until they stop. Being good means staying quiet, so she stays quiet. Then the bridge comes. It's bigger than any bridge she's ever seen, with guards at gates and a sign that says "Welcome to the USA". She sits up straighter. Maybe crossing into a different country will make him turn around. Maybe he'll say something to her, explain why they left, where they're really going. She leans forward in her seat and waits. But he just drives. His hands stay on the wheel. He doesn't look back. They keep going and the world outside changes. Palm trees appear, tall and strange with leaves that fan out at the top like giant hands. Then orange groves, row after row of trees heavy with bright fruit. The air coming through the window turns hot and thick. She's never seen trees like this. She's never felt heat like this. She wants to ask if they can stop, if she can touch one of the oranges, if he sees what she sees. The question sits in her throat. But asking means needing something, and needing something means she isn't being good enough. So she swallows it down and watches the trees blur past. When he finally pulls into a motel parking lot, the sun is setting and the neon sign glows pink against the sky. He gets out and slams his door. She sits in the back seat and waits for him to open hers, the way he used to. He doesn't. He walks to the motel office without looking back. She understands then. Being quiet didn't make him choose her. It just made it easier for him to forget she was there.