Dissipate Page 4

  The driver’s voice came on loud throughout the bus. How is she doing that? Glancing toward the front, I noticed she had something put to her mouth which was probably then pushing it through the bus.

  “Good evening. We will be departing Nevada, Missouri in five minutes. Our approximate travel time is three and a half hours. If there’s anything I can do to make your trip more enjoyable let me know. I’ll be dimming the lights for those who want to sleep.”

  The bus continued to idle in its spot for a few minutes before the front door of the bus closed and we moved forward. It was a weird feeling seeing the world pass me by without putting any effort into the motion. Vehicles were definitely a good way to travel.

  Not knowing when I’d be able to sleep again, I closed my eyes to escape the fear of what I was faced with. My small accomplishments of tonight were nothing in the scheme of things.

  Hopefully, the Keeper believed I’d committed suicide. If not . . . hopefully the Keeper didn’t find me in Arkansas.

  EARLY-MORNING LIGHT came through the tinted windows. An ache in my neck formed from the angle I slept in. Stretching, my muscles protested. If I was home, Mom and I would have been making breakfast before our morning chores. I loved the peacefulness the early morning daylight brought. But with the memory of my mom’s death, the ease I normally felt vanished. I missed my mom.

  Just one more day. What I wouldn’t give for one more day with her.

  Tears tried to form, but I brushed them away. I had to stay focused on my tasks at hand.

  The big clock at the front of the bus read six thirty. We would be arriving in about thirty minutes. Honestly, I had no idea what my next step was. My mom had said go to the bank first. There was money there, but it didn’t seem smart to be walking around with a large amount until I figured out where I was staying. The two women in front of me continued to chatter. They seemed knowledgeable about the area as they talked about different places they were going to visit while they were here visiting.

  Leaning out into the aisle, I asked the women, “Excuse me, can I ask you a few questions about Fayetteville?”

  Maybe this would help me get my game plan together or some semblance of one.

  One turned around. “Yes, yes. Come sit beside us and ask away. We come here a lot.”

  Grabbing my backpack, I moved to the seat beside them, across the aisle. The women seemed to be in their mid-fifties. Two other things were on my mom’s suggestions for me to do. Maybe inquiring about those would lead me in the right direction. Nonchalant, Kenzie. Be nonchalant. “I haven’t been to the area before. I wanted to visit a library and check out a local college.”

  The one sitting closest to me with black hair and green eyes responded, “Oh, you’re in luck. The bus drops off four blocks away from the University of Arkansas campus. They’ll have a library. It’s a good school. My friend’s grandkid graduated from there. We’ll point you in the direction when we arrive.”

  “Thank you. That would be great.” Maybe luck was on my side this morning.

  A few minutes passed when the woman closest to me looked over and asked, “Where did you graduate high school?”

  Here’s to hoping the homeschool thing my mom mentioned in her letter worked. A light sheen of moisture formed on my palms. Doubt entered my mind. Should I? It was probably better to try the lie out on someone that didn’t care before I got somewhere that it mattered. “I was homeschooled. My mom recently passed and I needed a change of scenery.”

  “Where are you from?” The persistence unnerved me.

  “Montana.” I hated lying. My conscious ate away at me with each untruth.

  The lady nodded to herself. “I hear there’s a lot of homeschooling in the remote parts because of impassable roads.”

  “Yeah, winters are rough there.” That wasn’t a lie. Hopefully she didn’t ask me any more details. I didn’t know much about Montana besides some historical significances in the state and the geographic location.

  The bus exited off a road and it looked like we were entering the city. My stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t eaten since lunch at the community hall. The other lady, sitting next to the window with brown hair, rummaged through her backpack. She pulled out a blue and white shiny pouch that said chips and a clear bag that had a sandwich.

  Reaching across the seat, she offered with a southern accent, “Here, sweetie. Take this. I always pack some food in case we get hungry. We talked the night away and we’ll be meeting up with our friend here shortly.”

  She extended her hand and my stomach made another noise of approval.

  Taking the sandwich, I gave a smile and said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Were people always this generous? We were taught at The Society that evil plagued the world and only a few pure souls were left. The Keeper searched the area, trying to find the pure. This was all confusing as I tried to make sense of what was the truth.

  Why wasn’t I better prepared through my teachings? Mom had left so much out. The woman with the black hair took out a piece of paper and wrote something down which had me pushing all the warring questions aside.

  A few minutes later she handed it to me. “Don’t take this wrong, but if you don’t have a place to go, I’ve written out a place that’s near the University. It’s a shelter. They’ll give you a warm meal, a chance to scrub up, and a bed. It’s a good place. We’ve volunteered at it before. There’s other places you can search on the internet when you get to the library if this place is full.”

  Did I look as lost as I felt? Probably. There was so much to process. Without thinking, I asked, “What is the internet?”

  The woman raised her eyebrow. “Were you stuck in a hole in Montana? You haven’t heard of the internet?”

  The disbelieving tone from the lady told me I had messed up. I needed to think fast as I mentally scolded myself. An extension of the truth was all I could think of. “I haven’t. My mom was anti-technology and believed only the fundamental skills and knowledge needed to be learned.”

  Hopefully, the internet had to deal with technology. At The Society technology was the gas stove and refrigeration. My nerves were causing me to speak before I thought and that would get me in trouble. Slow down, Kenzie.

  The women exchanged a speculative glance. The one closest to me spoke again. “I’ve heard about some people who homeschool their children taking the anti-technology approach. I’m sorry, sweetie, but it’s going to be rough while you adjust.” Producing a little box, similar to what the guy at the gas station had been using, she continued, “I’m going to give you a rundown to help get you by. This is a cell phone. Works like a telephone, but it’s portable.” She hit a button and a screen popped up. “The internet is a collection of information that you can search. It’s like typing a question and getting answers from space. See, if I type in shelters in Fayetteville, Arkansas and hit search a list of answers that fit your search criteria will come back. Are you with me?”

  Internet was amazing, an endless source of information. A place for me to research questions versus trying to fumble my way through conversations. “Wow. Wow. I’m with you. Thank you so much.”

  A world I never knew existed opened up and I was ready for the journey. The amount of learning that could be done was endless.

  She put the phone down. “At the library, there will be computers. You can search the internet on those. Umm—I’m trying to think how to describe what a computer looks like. Oh, oh, oh, the guy at the gas station where we bought our tickets worked on a computer. You can use computers to work, search the internet, and send e-mails, which are like electronic letters. The list is endless. Get to know a computer. It’ll help you out immensely.”

  The kindness these women had shown was irrefutable and my throat felt thick. Clearing my throat, I responded, “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie. Good luck.”

  I finished my cheese sandwich quickly as the bus pulled to a stop. T
he chips had been salty and crunchy. My taste buds approved of the new flavors.

  As we disembarked, the woman with the black hair pointed to the right. “Follow this road and you’ll find the University. I believe the library is in the middle of the campus. Ask any student when you get there and they’ll be able to point you in the right direction.”

  “Thank you. I know I keep saying that, but you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness.” It was tough keeping my emotions with all that these women had done for me, but I managed.

  She gave me a sweet smile. “You’re welcome. Stay safe. If you go to the shelter, get there before seven.”

  “I will.” A car parked and the women waved vigorously to the woman they had probably referenced on the bus as the friend they were meeting.

  Thankful that the heat of the day wasn’t beating down on me, I walked. The city was overwhelming. Cars whizzed by. Stores lined the road. Lights flashed at crossroads. Worry evaded me as I tried to take everything in, watch everyone’s habits, and blend in.

  The internet was going to be a helpful asset, but it would only take me so far. It was hard to not be furious with my mom for sheltering and then leaving me unprepared like she did. If not for those private lessons to continue my education, I’m not sure where I would be in all this. Not wanting to think ill of her, I focused on my surroundings.

  There was what looked like a big trash can in one of the alley’s that had garbage spilling out of it. Cautiously, I approached. No one was watching. Taking out my old clothes, I stuffed them down the side of the large blue metal bin that had the words DUMPSTER printed on the side in yellow letters. Fastening my bag again, I continued on my way.

  The Keeper would be finding out about now that I wasn’t home. Hopefully, he believed I had wandered off to kill myself. No traces of what I had done had been left.

  I had officially disappeared.

  WALKING UP TO the library, the white bricked building was large. Students were sliding cards into a slot before opening the door. The cards were like a key into the building. As I approached, a guy scanned his badge and glanced my way.

  For a moment longer than seemed comfortable, he continued staring. Did he know I didn’t belong? I knew I screamed I was an outsider. My heart beat wildly. Play it cool. Maybe I’m over reacting.

  Hopefully, my confident and cheerful greeting dissuaded his line of thinking. “Good morning.”

  A smile spread across his face. Upon closer inspection, he was handsome with his tousled black hair and dark eyes. “Good morning. I haven’t seen you around here before. Freshman?”

  What is a freshman? Whatever it was, I was now going to be one. “Yes, I am.”

  Please. Please. Please let a freshman be a good thing.

  Apparently it was as he held the door open for me to enter the library. A slow breath of relief left my lungs. Then, a wonder filled me as I stared at all the books. It was massive, beyond anything I could have imagined. My mom had described it to me, but the learning was endless. Books had a unique smell and it encased me. I had to force myself not to stop and gawk.

  To this guy, I wanted him to think I’d been in a library before. Nervously, my fingers worried the strap on my backpack as I tried to keep my cover intact.

  Shifting on his feet, he responded, “Good. Hopefully, I’ll see you around. I’m Trent. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Kenzie. Hopefully, we will.” I was talking to a boy. A man, I mean. It was hard standing here, acting like I did this all the time when I wanted to divert my eyes and walk away. People here were warmer, friendlier. Hopefully in time, the awkwardness would fade.

  Someone called his name in a hushed whisper. Giving me a wink, he turned and moseyed in the opposite direction. I fit in! I fit in! The guy hadn’t thought I was weird or didn’t belong. I can do this. I can do this.

  Now, I needed to find a computer. As I searched the library, I saw models that were similar to the one at the gas station. Desks lined a wall intermittently toward the back with a sign that read Computer Stations. Perfect. Not wanting to be obvious, I perused the books and pretended to be reading them as I observed the students using the machines. Students gripped something with their right hand and moved it about. I studied their actions.

  Someone vacated their computer and I sat before the screen changed. The student had forgotten to lock it. Students had to enter some keys when they first began before the screens would open up. I had finally lucked out.

  Here goes nothing.

  I typed CURRENT EVENTS into the square in to the type right corner. I hit the search button and a long list of responses came back and I navigated my way. With every move of the mouse, my nerves lessened slightly. I had this. I was going to be okay. Stress continued to ebb from me as I became more comfortable with what I was doing.

  Students around me didn’t stare at me like I didn’t belong. I was fitting in. Self-consciously, I glanced from time to time to see if I had done anything that was considered unacceptable.

  This tool would give me answers to anything I had a question on and would help keep my secret of where I had come from. Did the outside world know about The Society? That was one of the many questions I had. With all this technology, how could The Society go unnoticed?

  HOURS LATER, AFTER reading until my eyes couldn’t take anymore, I left for the Admissions office which was across the campus. I still felt like I was way behind where I should be, but the massive info dump I had read helped immensely.

  It had taken me awhile to wrap my head around the college admissions process, but the guide on the website explained everything thoroughly. College started in two weeks and they were taking last-minute applications. The internet confirmed, like my mom had said, that I would need to take a placement test to attend college. As luck would have it, they were conducting tests here on the campus tomorrow for a fee of forty-five dollars. In a corner of the library, I had counted the money and had exactly four-hundred and fifty-six dollars left.

  If I could score high enough, I would have a chance at a potential scholarship. The other option was student loans. The campus had food, shelter and all the necessities to survive. For now, college seemed like a safe place to immerse myself until I could figure more things out.

  With the sun high in the sky, the temperature had raised significantly. Most girls wore pants that were cut off above the knee which showed more skin than was acceptable back home. It was hard not to stare, but it did seem more reasonable and cooler than the pants I wore.

  I looked again at the campus map that I’d learned to print earlier. Printing was a wonderful thing. Whatever you had on your screen would go to a little machine and make an exact replica on the piece of paper.

  The red bricked building had the name Admissions Office labeled in big silver letters. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked toward the front desk.

  A girl about my age greeted me. “Hi, welcome to the U of A Admission office. How may I help you?” Her voice was warm and cheery while I glanced at the nametag on her shirt. Brooklyn.

  “I’d like to register for the placement test tomorrow.” Thank you internet for the mountain of information.

  She handed me a piece of paper. “Perfect. Here’s the application. Bring it back to me filled out with the testing fee, and I’ll get you scheduled for tomorrow.”

  The papers had several required blanks to fill in as I took them in my hands and briefly glanced over them. “Do you mind if fill it out here? I have the test fee with me.”

  Pointing to the chairs across the floor, she responded, “Of course. Feel free to sit over there.”

  She was beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes. With her fitted clothes, Brooklyn had the look I wanted. From the other girls I’d seen on campus, they dressed similar to her. There was something inviting about her that made me want to get to know her more.

  After this, I needed to go to the store to get some essentials, like clothing, before heading to the shelter ton
ight. I had printed maps with directions to the store, shelter and the bank. The bank was two-miles from the college. That was my plan tomorrow—see what was in the safety deposit box my mom had left after my test.

  Beginning to fill out all of the pertinent information, the receptionist talked. “I’m Brooklyn. Are you from around here?”

  There was an urge for a second to use Sarah but I caught myself. “I’m Kenzie, and from Montana.”

  “Oh wow, that’s a ways away. I bet your parents are missing you.”

  Talking about myself, no, lying about myself, was uncomfortable but I needed to get used to it. This was my new life, falsities and all. The pen hovered above my paper as I answered. “My dad passed away when I was little and mom recently did, too. We didn’t have much, so I got on a bus and came here to start over.”

  Brooklyn seemed at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn’t assume things like that.”

  For an address, I wasn’t sure what to use. I had no home yet. To be so close, yet so far away had panic rising within me. Stay calm, Kenzie. Think this through. There is a solution. My palms turned clammy. Racking my brain, I tried to think of an address I could use. The letter. Mom had put an address in the letter. For now, to get by, I’d use the address of the bank.

  I signed my name in the last spot. “There’s no way you would have known.”

  “Well, you’ve chosen an awesome school. All my family came here and my aunt is head of admissions. Go pig sooie.” Brooklyn raised her hand with her fist clenched in a pumping motion.

  I had read about the Razorbacks, with the matching pig school mascot, and the accompanying phrases that went with it.

  “Well, hopefully after tomorrow I’ll be able to call the hogs too.” Fingers crossed my mom had prepared me enough to pass.