Georgia made her way to highway 370 westbound and began walking the shoulder. On the way, she tried to slide down an embankment, got going too fast and scraped up her hands severely on the rough grass, dirt and rocks trying to brake herself. She slowed herself and made it to the bottom in one piece, but her hands were a mass of scratches caked with dirt.
As Georgia walked, the wind picked up in gusts and huge clouds began rolling in, darkening the sky. She looked up and knew the rain wouldn't be far behind. She had no protection from the elements apart from her usual denim jacket. Her heavier clothing was all back at her apartment in downtown St. Louis. Still she trudged on, bending her head into the wind and the soaking onslaught to come.
When the first fat drops of rain began pelting her head and shoulders, she decided it was most likely time to put up her thumb and pray. According to her watch, she'd been walking about an hour and she had just crossed the Missouri River bridge. Dozens of cars when whizzing past her until finally an older beat-up red Ford pick-up truck pulled over ahead of her on the shoulder. She tried to get a look at the driver as she approached the vehicle and it looked like a middle aged woman in her 40s with a 5 or 6 year old girl in the front seat. Georgia was pleased with her first effort at hitching, this looked like a fairly safe bet.
She went up to the passenger door, which she found rolled down and a woman with stringy red hair asked, "Where you goin' honey?"
Georgia replied simply, "Columbia eventually, I hope."
The woman seemed to be looking through her and said, "I ain't going but to St. Peters, the mall actually, but I think Misty and I here can carry you that far."
Georgia sighed gratefully, since every moment in a vehicle put miles between her and the trouble she had been anticipating, "Thank you, ma'am."
The woman looked her up and down again, "You got a name? I figure if I'm helping you, you can give me your name. My name is Suzanne, Suzanne Bishop."
"My name is... Ellen...Messen, " lied Georgia with a moderate measure of hesitation. She figured the cover she'd been using would still be safe 20 miles from the trouble, even in the days of instant commun-ications.
Suzanne looked hard at Georgia yet again, but continued, "OK Ellen, it's good to meet you. I hope you aren't running from too much trouble. How old are you anyway?"
Georgia felt she could answer that mostly honestly, "I'm 17, almost 18, but my parents are dead and I've been on my own since I turned 16. And no, I'm not in trouble, I just have friends in Columbia and they say there is work to be had there."
Shaking her head, Suzanne replied, "It's a shame that families just don't take care of their own anymore. I take care of my Misty here, on account of her mama bein' in jail," indicating her granddaughter.
Pretending interest, Georgia inquired, "What is your daughter in jail for Ms. Bishop?"
"Drugs, child abuse, DUI," answered Suzanne shaking her head again. "I didn't raise her to it, but she got in with the wrong crowd. I blame them. She started staying out nights and doing things she shouldn't..." her voice trailed off and silent tears started to fall. Georgia actually felt bad somewhere in herself, perhaps remembering some actual echo of emotion about her mother.
"I'm sorry Ms Bishop, my mom died of a drug overdose when I was 8," she said soberly.
They both fell silent until they pulled into the Mid-Rivers Mall parking lot after a dismal 10 minute trip through the steadily falling rain, when Suzanne asked Georgia, "So Ellen, what are your plans now?"
"I think I'll walk back down to the highway and keep trying to go West."
"How much money do you have?" asked Suzanne, looking at her hard again, as though she could see through her.
Georgia stumbled over the words in her mind for a moment, "Enough."
Suzanne shot straight back, "I don't know what to believe about you. I am quite sure your name ain't Ellen, but be that as it may, I am going to help you what little I can since I can see you aren't the type to ask for anything."
Looking at the ground, Georgia remained silent and her benefactor continued, "Come on in the mall and I'll get you some lunch."
Georgia nodded her assent and followed Suzanne and her granddaughter into the mall. She had a large plate of teriyaki chicken, which was a blessing since she hadn't eaten since her dumpster dive earlier in the morning. She ate in silence, but noticed that Suzanne seemed to be trying to catch some bit of information falling through a crack somewhere by watching her.
When Georgia finished eating, she stood up and genuinely thanked Suzanne before shouldering her backpack once again. The rain outside continued steady and sullen, subverting the bright fall colors to muted reds and browns.
Suzanne sighed deeply and shook her head as though lost for words and pressed a ten dollar bill into Georgia's hand. Georgia immediately tried to give it back, but Suzanne looked at her sharply, shook her head and walked away into the mall with Misty by the hand. Georgia remained standing in the spot for several moments before slowly moving her feet and body towards the exit. She wished she knew what it was that Suzanne had been looking for so hard, but she got rational again and knew she never would.
Georgia emerged from the food court doors of the mall into the chilly rain, she trudged forward purposefully, knowing that once she was a certain amount of wet, she wouldn't get any wetter. She was honestly more concerned about the books in her backpack than her skin. She was basically waterproof, but her precious books weren't. So, looking like a drowned rat, Georgia wended her way along the busy road around the mall and onto Interstate 70 and began to walk towards Columbia. She had a vague number echoing in her head of 100 miles or some such. She wasn't sure how far she could walk in an hour, let alone a day, so she figured once she was close to completely miserable, she would put her thumb out again.
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