A Change in Pace (3)

Hey there! If you are just joining Lu’s adventure in “A Change in Pace,” please go to the List page or click on the links here and read A Change in Pace, and A Change in Pace (2) before this one so you haven’t missed anything. Thank’s for reading!

“What the hell were you thinking?!” My mother stood and slammed her hands on the dining room table. I flinched in my chair across from her, trying to get my story into her thick skull, but she seemed to just want to figure it out themselves. “Mom, I-”

“I don’t want to it! I’ve told you, time and time again, to NOT go back to that forest! And what do you do?” She threw her hands in the air, “You go back there! You disobeyed me, and so here we are! We have muddy hands, dinner isn’t even remotely close to done, and there’s a dead body in the truck.”

I sighed a little sigh, there she goes again. So much for understanding. “Mom, just listen. I was walking, just walking. I saw something in the river on the bank and went to go see what it was. When I pulled it out, it was him! What else was I supposed to do-”

We both said the end simultaneously, “Call the police?” I closed my mouth and looked down to stare at my hands. Why didn’t I call the police? “I… I panicked, okay? You’re the only one I trust with this stuff, with anything really…” I mumbled at the end, eyes drifting to the truck out the window. A brown tarp covered the bed of the truck to hide the stowaway. In that moment, I really understood how amazing my mom was. Short red dyed hair, soft brown eyes, yet a sassy swing in her posture. She wasn’t one of the mothers who worked in a corporate job, no perfect dresses or anything, no. Instead, my mom was wearing tight fitting t-shirts with a design on them and skinny jeans. Seemingly random bracelets hung from her wrists, jangling together, yet she carefully picked them out each morning. My mom understood me much more than my father ever would, if he was there for us.

I felt the tension in the room hover then drop. My mom huffed and went into the kitchen to, what I assumed was, finish dinner. I was released with a breath of relief. Curiosity was bubbling inside me; I wanted to know who that guy I found was. I went off in search of a newspaper in the living room; maybe it would be in the missing persons section, or the police report. I found the paper, but it had nothing in it about someone missing. Sounds of a wooden spoon on a skillet could be heard from the kitchen, I had my chance to go investigate. Taking the paper, I snuck out the door with a following waif of the sautéed onion chicken aroma.


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