Lucid Waking

Runaway

        “So what do you like doing on the weekend?” Marissa asked her passenger. “Meet Me in St. Louis,” was playing on the radio, but Marissa reached over to shut it off in order to hear her passenger’s response.
         “Umm, swimming, I guess,” he said. “Sometimes.”
         “You guess?”
         “Aunt M, why are you taking me home? Why can’t I stay with you?”
         “Because you’re parents will be worried sick, Patrick. And if that isn’t enough, think about Ian and John. Where will they be without their older brother to take care of them?”
         “They have mom and dad, they don’t need me.”
         “I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have your dad when I was little.”
         “What do you mean?”
         “Your dad taught me a lot when we were growing up. Why do you think I’m such a cool aunt?”
         Patrick laughed. “You were cool anyway.”
         Marissa laughed in turn. “True, but I’m even more awesome because of my brother.”
         “But I don’t want to go home.”
         “Well considering you got all the way to Boston from Manhattan, I can see that you don’t want to go home.”
         Marissa pulled her car off the interstate and onto the side streets of uptown New York. Patrick was starting to doze off beside her, but determination kept him awake.
         “Seen any good movies lately?” she asked her little passenger.
         “Not really,” he said, sleepily. “But I’ve been reading a lot of good books! I’m almost done with Robin Hood.”
         “Was it good?”
         “Yeah! Ian wants to read it next, but I don’t think he’s old enough.”
         “Is Ian reading a lot?”
         “Not as much as me.”
         “That’s good.”
         The large white house pulled into view and Marissa neatly pulled into the driveway.
         “I don’t want to get out of the car,” Patrick whined.
         “I know, come on,” Marissa pulled the key out of the ignition and walked around the outside of the car to the passenger side where Patrick was curled into a ball. She lifted him up into her arms and made her way to the front porch. The door opened as she arrived.
         “Marissa?” a rather short, slim woman opened the door and after spotting the boy in her arms burst into tears.
         “He came a long way,” Marissa said.
         The woman moved out of her way and let Marissa into the house. Marissa put Patrick on the floor and patted his back in the direction of his bedroom.
         “Sam blocked the windows, so they won’t open again,” the woman said. She sighed. “Thank you so much for bringing him home. It must have been such a long trip.”
         “Not as long as you think,” Marissa said. “But you don’t mind if I stay the night?”
         “Of course not,” the woman said. “Would you like some coffee?”
         “Some tea would be nice.”
         “Of course.”

“Not much between despair and ecstasy”

Runaway