Trigger Warning * Violence * Language
When it was time for the brothers to go home, Nate’s youngest brother flew back without Tim. Nate and Tim then took off in the middle of the night, swearing they had to run, they had to get away, because both were now in trouble and would be going to jail for a very long time. There was no way this was only about the grocery heist.
That left me and Scott by ourselves, but despite their fears, the cops still didn’t show up looking for them. It was only a matter of time before I heard from my mother-in-law, and Mary was not happy. She was screaming angry, and I was the only one available for her to scream at.
The guys didn’t stay gone long once they realized no one was coming after them. And as soon as Nate found out how angry Mary was, he knew he better figure out a way to get Tim back to Florida.
“We’ll just all go. Take a little vacation,” he said. “We’ll escape this cold for a little Florida sun, and whatever is happening here can blow over while we’re gone.”
We packed without planning and left without notice. We were grown and didn’t need to check with anyone. If he said we would go, that’s what we would do.
It was a long drive to Florida and an even longer week of visiting. I just wanted to go back home, get back to school, and keep moving forward.
When Nate decided it was time to go back, we headed home, sure everything was going to be fine. Even when we got pulled over for speeding on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, we were no longer scared. If he were really in trouble, he would have been arrested on the spot.
Instead, he simply got a ticket and the cop took away his radar detector, illegal in the state of Virginia. Hours later, when we pulled into our own driveway and tucked our little car around back, we sighed and realized we may have overreacted.
But as he walked into the house ahead of me, Nate let loose with a “Holy shit!” I followed him in and wanted to do the same.
The house was trashed. It looked like we had been robbed, and the irony of it hit me like a ton of bricks. What goes around comes around and all that jazz.
A large garbage can sat in the middle of the living room and sitting on top was a stack of my things. Without looking, I grabbed from the top and ran to our bedroom. All my canisters of undeveloped film from our first Christmas with Scott were missing. This was no robbery. Thieves don’t overlook TVs and take pictures instead.
I walked in a circle, dazed, trying to figure out what had gone on while we were away. My arms were getting heavier as I grabbed more and more of my prized possessions – pictures, Scott’s first baby toys, anything that couldn’t easily be replaced.
A car pulled up, scratching through the gravel as it slammed on brakes.
“You have to get out of here!” said Jason, one of Nate’s older brothers, as he ran into the house. “Grab the baby and go. The cops are on the way, man!”
“What happened here?” Nate asked him. “Where’s our stuff?”
Jason looked around. “We got rid of it for you. We heard on the scanner they were getting ready to come here and serve a warrant, so we took it all to the dump.”
“So you thought the cops would think we stole…pictures of my baby?” I asked.
“No, no, no…we took those for safe keeping.”
“I want them back. Now.”
“There isn’t time for that. You have to leave. Just go. The cops will be here any minute!” he said, snatching up clothes randomly from the couch where I’d left the last load of laundry to fold before we just left town. I guess it didn’t matter now.
I panicked and ran around doing the same. I carried toys and baby food and even some school yearbooks I had saved from the garbage can, and shoved it all into bags, running them out to the car as I filled them. The hatchback trunk was overflowing, and so many of the clothes I stuffed into bags were too small for Scott, but I didn’t care. Time was limited and I just wanted to leave with at least a third of my material life.
Before the hour was up, we were speeding out of Delaware again, Scott still sound asleep in his carrier, unaware that he’d been home, and now didn’t have a home at all, unless you count the car.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to Florida, I guess,” he said. “Sorry babe. I screwed up again.”
I sighed. “It’s ok. As long as we’re together, I don’t care where we live.” It was a lie, of course, but also the truth. We were all still together and as long as we stuck together, we really could get through this. What’s a little run from the law when you are together as a family?
About Angela Giles Klocke – I’m a Colorado-based speaker, writer, advocate, and princess! I am also a survivor of child abuse, sexual assault, domestic violence, and more. I would love to speak to your group, school, or organization. Catch my TEDx Colorado Springs Talk on abuse, violence, and talking about uncomfortable topics, coming soon. Contact me!