Escapes from Myself

“And what are you going to do now?!” John asked me curiously a couple of days after I left Colonial Made.

It was Saturday, the day when I always paid him rent for the following week. We were in the kitchen, eating breakfast.

I glanced at my watch. It was still fairly early in the morning.

“I think I’ll move to California,” I answered.

He thought I was joking. Even when I started packing my belongings into my luggage, he said: “You don’t really mean it, do you?”

Well, I did mean it. California had been in the back of my mind all along. I could not just continue dreaming about it any longer. It was time for me to go.

“Do you know anyone on the West Coast?” John asked me when I was getting into my car.

“Not really”, I replied.

“Do you have enough money?” he asked.

“I have about a thousand dollars. Is that enough?”

“Only a thousand?!” he said startled. “And you are driving to the West Coast? Are you out of your mind?!”

“Perhaps I am”, I said.

“Oh, you’ll be back soon. Anyway, your room will be there in case you need it again. Good luck to you.”

There was grudge in his voice but I could not tell whether he was mad at me or mad at himself.

I drove out on Easton Avenue and once I crossed into Pennsylvania, I began to feel a little more freedom in the fresh air blowing in through my window.