Separated

Separated

By
Sarah Hohn
CHAPTER ONE
THE BLUE RASPBERRY SLURPEE
Sweat drips down my face. It is 98 degrees outside which makes it about 102 in here. I have always told my mother to get the air conditioner fixed in this old, ugly car. She saunters out of the gas station doors with her straight, blonde hair hanging below her chest. She is tall at 5 ft 9, and has the most breathtaking eyes; they are a vibrant shade of baby blue. My mother and I look almost identical except for our hair color. I was stuck with the always tangled, massively curly, Ronald McDonald hair. I have the same bright baby blue eyes, but it seems as if hers are so much more beautiful than mine. I don’t know how I am only about 5 ft 2 at 17 years old, while she is so lean and tall. She opens the door, almost dropping her coffee, but she regains her balance quickly. I watch how swiftly she takes out the keys and starts the engine. As I glance over to the car clock, the date says: October 19, 2001. Exactly 10 years from the day my father left. The familiar sound of her key chains jingling back and forth, fills my ears. There is probably close to 60 key chains there, one for each place we have visited in the past few years. She hands me my Extra Large, Blue Raspberry Slurpee. Then, she puts the car into gear and we are off. Again.

CHAPTER TWO
THE BACK STORY
I was seven years old when we first started ‘traveling’. I came home from school as if it were a normal day when I realized that my dad was gone, and my mother had 2 bags sitting next to the door full of my stuff. She said, “Lets get out of this place, we need to go somewhere else.” Before I could even take my backpack off, we were in the car and leaving. Back then, I thought we would only be gone for a few days and return to the house as we left it, now I know that was a foolish thought. Now I know, we are never going back to that old, but beautiful house in Newton, New Jersey. Every time we moved, she would say to me, “Sarah, this is going to be a new place, a new time, something different, you will make new friends, and enjoy life, like a kid.” Even though I knew that wasn’t true. Eventually I could mimic the words coming out of her mouth because we had relocated so many times. Sometimes it was a house, sometimes it was an apartment, once we even stayed in the playhouse at McDonalds for a couple days, and I really don’t know how we pulled that one off. But, as I sit in the car today, I realize that this is my life now, and I shouldn’t expect anything less, or more, for that fact. This time, we are staying in a hotel, a pretty nice one if I say so myself. As she checks in for us, I look around. It smells like a hotel would, everything in every hotel smells the same, like bleach and toast. After she throws a flirty smile to the guy behind the desk, she takes the key and rejoins me. “Suite 309, 6th floor.” She explains. “Lets take the elevator, you have too much stuff for me to carry up 6 flights of stairs” I respond. When we get to our suite, I realize it how gigantic it actually is. Two bedrooms, a balcony, 2 full bathrooms and a huge flat screen TV sit in the living room. Where did she come up with the money for this? I thought. But, too soon, my question has been answered, as there is a knock on the door.





CHAPTER THREE
LEFT ALONE
“Is there a Mallory Frenze here?” The cop asked as he raised his badge in the air letting us know who he is. “Yes, my mother. She is in the other room.” I reply. “Mom! There are people here to see you!” I scream to one of the bedrooms where she is unpacking. She answers, quietly, “Coming dear.” She walks out of the room already changed into her pajamas when it is only 6:00 pm. She wipes the damp cloth that has makeup remover, I’m assuming, over her face, getting the last of it off. “Hi Officer, how can I help you?” She asks kindly. “Hi, are you Mallory Frenze?” The officer answers her question, with a question. “Yes that’s me.” She replies calmly, for talking to a police officer. “You are under arrest for theft of the Robinsons home, 222 Hickory Drive, on October 6, 1990. You will have to come with me immediately so we can inspect your car for the stolen items.” She responds with a nod of her head, and follows the officer out of our room. I wait 45 minutes and she doesn’t come back, eventually it has been an hour and she is still outside. I am starting to get nervous, but it is so hard. I have spent my whole life with my mom, traveling the country. Experiencing the best and worst places. And now I realize why… we were on the run from the police.





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