Runaways 1

Judy tapped her foot. The soft sound of her flat, worn soles on the pavement seemed deafening in the surrounding silence. She was nervous. Other times when she'd been out at night, she'd never thought much of it. She wasn't the kind of girl to imagine a Soviet spy sneaking out from behind a hedge or one of the monsters from the drive in double features rising out of a sewer grating. Nor did she think any specter waited for her in the shadows of the bus stop. Then why did she fret? Why had her hands turned white from the grip around her small bag?

She clutched the floral print case to her body, assured by the feeling of something familiar. Inside the bag were all the things she'd need, a toothbrush, two other dresses she worried would overly wrinkle, a pair of heels she'd stolen from her mother, cosmetics and hair brush, a bottle of milk wrapped in a paper bag to keep the sweat from leaking on the other items, and, tucked into a small tin box, a loaf of bread and a small slab of butter. Her parents and sisters had not noticed as her things disappeared from the house, but her mother noticed instantly when the bread went missing. Judy's father blamed it on the dog, but her mother laid the blame at one of Judy's youngest sister's friends, Yvette, a poor girl with a drunkard of a father. It was a hard line to walk, being furious at the theft and being sensitive about the girl's situation, but her mother managed it deftly all while Judy herself kept the stolen loaf in its tin under her bed.

Headlights down the road drew her attention. They floated toward her like two cat eyes sent out independent of their host for some nefarious purpose. "It's too early for the bus," she thought. Judy slipped back from the orange light of the street lamp as the car neared. Her heart thudded in her chest as she strained her eyes to make out the model of the car. She fully expected to see the bizarre pink stripe running down the side of her father's Chevy, his tired eyes peering out of the cab as the white steering wheel rolled from side to side. With three short words, he'd have her back in the car. They would ride in silence back to the house. They wouldn't speak of it after that. She knew her father and, despite his fury, he would lie for her. Judy crouched down behind the hedge row. The car rolled on past, no pink stripe, no white steering wheel, and no pair of bloodshot eyes set deep in a weary face.

Why did the dark bother her? She'd passed by this bus station hundreds of times in her life. Judy looked over to the spot on the opposite side of the street where she'd stood on the day the town's young men shipped out. She remembered her father's hand clapped on her shoulder while he looked wistfully at the young men piling into the bus. Her eyes had not lingered long on the handsome boys as they pushed excitedly into the bus, she'd been too young to care, but instead lingered on her father's lips. As each of the soon to be soldiers took the step up, her father mouthed their names. He'd taught each and every one at some point, blathering at them from behind a desk about the importance of literature as their minds fixated on new cars and carnal interest in the girls beside them. Judy could see the pain in her father's eyes and felt ashamed that her father looked so despondent in a sea of bright faces. Around them the town cheered and told their favorite sons to "give 'em hell!" Judy wanted to join in the revelry, but those solemn eyes kept her in check. How many had gotten on the bus since that day over ten years ago? Crowds didn't turn out any more, only the families. They didn't cheer, but sometimes still said to "give 'em hell" though with more sobriety and pause than jubilation.

Judy cursed herself. She'd forgotten her watch. It remained on her dresser as clear as day in her mind. Whatever the time, Hugh was late. She strained her ears, hoping to hear the footsteps of her boyfriend clattering down the street, but only the sound of her own pulse throbbed in her ears. Nothing moved and nothing made a sound other than the lazy drift of wind, barely enough to move an old leaf on a dead stem. Again, Judy considered the darkness around her. The bus stop was on the edge of town, a full ten blocks from her house. She hoped her mother was drinking coffee in the kitchen with one of her romance novels in hand while her father dozed in his arm chair, a crossword puzzle lolling in his hand. Her sisters would be asleep, and they all should assume Judy was as well. Looking back at the town from her hidden spot in the shadows, she could discern the faint glow that arose from the mingling of street lamps and shop lights. The warm light called to her.

Give up this flight of fancy. Come back to your warm bed and good life. He'll never amount to anything.

The words rang bitterly in her head. Her mother never approved of Hugh. She called him a coward and an activist, one of the worst words her mother would say. Judy's father never spoke against the boy, but clearly had no interest in defending him either. Judy knew Hugh was something more than that. Judy knew Hugh could change the world. She knew he wasn't running away, but that he was simply not walking into the slaughter house. War fatigue had set in nationwide, but a young man trying to avoid service was still treated like Frankenstein's monster. Judy had been with Hugh when the letters arrived. It was a shock to see him pull out the university letter and then reach back in the box to remove a second one, a manila envelope with "WAR DEPARTMENT" stamped in the return address. Judy had seen the letter the Captain delivered to her friend Sally's parents. Sally had showed it to her in a sort of morbid bragging. The two, Sally's and Hugh's, looked identical. The university turned Hugh down and the War Department happily accepted.

That started them talking. Hugh never intended, from sixteen up till he received his letter, to go into the Army. With a college acceptance, he could put it off for a while, at least. He hoped he'd be able to become an engineer and start designing things stateside to help. Most of America saw civil service or armed service as the only two legitimate ways of helping, but a third path did exist. Everyone talked about it, in school halls behind locker doors or at the ice cream parlor as the jugs of Milktec Milk gleamed from behind the counter. Some of the more worldly students had no problem talking about it openly, but, for respectable families like Judy's, Milktec was something on the shopping list and nothing more. Hugh said he knew of a Milktec Dairy that paid cash and didn't ask questions. Good labor was hard to come by in the states as the war demanded a strict oversight of all industry. Plenty of factories looked the other way on personal history and still paid well.

Footsteps. They patted against the smooth stone and came to an abrupt stop. Judy peeked out from her hiding spot and saw him. He wore a night shirt and a pair of jeans. His hair was unkempt and wind swept from the run. Hugh heaved in great breaths as his head spun around and a grimace of disappointment and fear crept over him. Judy popped out into the light with a broad grin that melted away his fears. She threw her arms around him, slamming her bag into his back as he pulled her close to him. "I thought you'd been caught," he rasped into her ear.

"Caught? Not that I just didn't come?" she asked.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me to this alone. Never doubted that for a second." He kissed her. Simple and sweet, with little experience in the act.

"What kept you?" she asked as they broke apart. Hugh was emblazoned in the light, but around them the dark still crept. Her joy of seeing him subsiding, she imagine all the ghosts of their past chasing him in the night.

"Dad kept talking to me. I think he might know I was planning something. Wanted to talk baseball all of the sudden."

"Will he come after us?"

"I don't think so. Doesn't look like they'd have time to catch us any way." Hugh pointed behind her. In the distance, headlights. Higher up and brighter than any car. Hurrying behind them came the wheeze and crank of a tired old bus. "All ready to go?"

Judy looked at Hugh with pure adoration in her eyes. She'd follow him to the end of the earth. They'd sat on his bed as he opened first one envelope and then the other. The conversation after that had been quick and quiet. They would run away together. Hugh said they didn't have to get married, not at first at least. He'd get an apartment where they could stay together. — The thought had made Judy nervous. They had been together before, but in quick moments with fits of giggling. Living together would be different. What would they do in the long gaps of silence afterwards? Would he lie beside her and squeeze his arms around her or would he leave the bed immediately with a repugnant look at the cooling wet spot. — Hugh would go to work for the dairy. They'd save money until they could move on — until they had to move on. The war couldn't last forever, could it? The others, her parents or his, would stop looking for them after a while. The government didn't waste much time hunting the runners. Eventually everyone would stop, and they could be together in peace. All it would take was a little courage, a three hour bus ride, and a little luck.

The bus wheezed to a stop, and the door opened. Hugh fished in his wallet for the fare and took Judy by the hand. With one last look she realized why she'd been wary of the dark. All of her life, she'd walked home through the night and never regarded it as much of anything. But she'd had somewhere to be. She'd been walking out of the dark. Judy squeezed Hugh's hand as they stepped into the bus. The driver eyed them both, but took the money and jerked his head towards the seating. Dim lights flickered as Hugh started down the aisle towards two seats near the back. The door clanged shut. The driver waited as he watched them from a mirror above his head. Hugh took their bags and jammed them into an overhead before stepping aside to let Judy have the window seat. Keenly aware of the other passengers watching them, they settled down as quickly as they could. The bus lurched into motion, and the overhead lights flickered and went out. Judy squeezed Hugh's hand again as they went together into the dark.

***

They rode in silence, their hands sometimes fumbling with each other. The further they went from their home, the more Hugh's knees bounced. A hollow rot set in both of their stomachs as if they were waiting for something new to go wrong. How fast could one of their fathers ring up the police station? They could call ahead and have a sheriff's car waiting at the next stop. But after twenty minutes, the next stop whizzed past the window and the bus carried on. Only once did it roll to a stop. The new passengers did little to calm Hugh's nerves. A young man near their age plopped down in a seat beside an iron haired man in the brown shirts army men wore off base. The man in the uniform did not turn to look at Hugh, nor would he have suspected anything if he did. Nevertheless, Hugh made certain to keep his head down until they reached their destination.

Three hours and twenty minutes after they stepped on the bus, they stepped off it. Batesville. Judy thought it would look more impressive. She'd come to Batesville once as a child with her mother to buy a special dress, though she couldn't remember the occasion or the dress. She did remember her mother's heels clicking down the sidewalk as bright shop windows drifted by. That district was far from the bus stop though. Hugh rattled down the stairs behind her with their bags as she gazed out from the small hill to see the whole town laid out in front of her. Somewhere down in that was their small apartment waiting for them. She felt Hugh's hand on her back, "Alright babe?"

"Sure. Just tired."

It was late. Hugh checked his watch as the bus rolled away. "Hotel is down the hill. We'll bunk there for the night. I'm supposed to call Marty in the morning."

"Marty?"

"The manager at the dairy I told you about. See, that's it over there." Hugh pointed to the east where a large black spot sat wreathed by small lights. The warehouse seemed like a void the town grew up around. Faintly, she could see the neon glow of a Milktec Milk sign. "Come on, before you fall asleep on your feet."

They walked down the hill briskly. The burst of activity woke Judy considerably and went a long way toward calming her nerves. She enjoyed the sense of purpose. As they rounded a slope, the hotel lights illuminated the night sky. A large "VACANCY" sign gleamed red as they approached. Hugh admired the variety of cars parked alongside the building while Judy continued to stare at the height of the neon sign. Before they went in, Hugh stopped and fished through his bag. He produced a small knot of bills. Judy had seen it before, but was still impressed. She'd never seen so much money at once any other time in her life, except maybe peeking in the till at a department store. Hugh peeled several bills from the knot before burying it back in its hiding place. He'd earned it working every summer and believed he was finally putting it to good use. He took her hand once more and led her inside.

The clerk, like the bus driver, looked them over as Hugh asked for a room. Judy worried they were about to be discovered in some way, as though her mother might step out from behind the plastic trees to snatch her by the ear and drag her home. The clerk's skepticism subsided as Hugh plopped down the cash. After some signatures, the clerk handed them a key and pointed down the hall. Hugh led the way.

The door closed behind them as Hugh dropped their bags on the small rack near the door. Judy stepped around the corner and saw a small radio set, a sitting chair and table, a dresser, a bedside table with a phone, and a bed with the sheet turned down over a blue blanket. Her stomach fluttered. Hugh stepped in the bathroom and closed the door behind him as she moved to sit on the bed. She heard the splash of urine and could not help but picture Hugh grasping his member and sighing with relief. She knew he wouldn't pressure her. They were tired. It had been a long and stressful night, but she knew he wanted it. More than that, she knew it made sense. They'd stolen away in the middle of the night for a quest to remain together as lovers. Why wouldn't they?

Hugh emerged from the bathroom with his shirt balled up in his hand. His smooth chest was small, but sturdy. He had a little definition in his arms and little hair to speak of except a small streak that winnowed as it rose up to his belly button. "So, are we going to bed then? We could turn the radio on for a bit."

She stood up and moved to him. She kissed him gently as her hand rested on the center of his chest. She could feel his cock sticking out from his jeans. It wasn't unfamiliar to her, but this was different. They weren't playing a game any longer. This was real now. She slipped by him and into the bathroom where she freshened up. She stripped away her clothes and strode out into the room stark naked. Hugh's eyes went as wide as dinner plates as he drank in her form. He'd never actually seen her naked. She had small breasts with a nice form and wide hips for only nineteen. Though she was proud of her brazen behavior, she didn't want his eyes to linger too long for fear of finding some imperfection. She clicked off the lights and climbed onto the bed.

His hands greeted her warmly and soon he shucked off his own jeans. As he fondled her breasts, she moved her hands further down his chest with a building excitement. Judy's hand slid against his cock, and she let out a small gasp. She'd never touched it before. Her palm slid over the head and was surprised to find it wet. She gripped it and squeezed, eliciting a slight gasp from Hugh's lips. He rolled her on to her back. She opened her legs wide for him, and he moved into position. The head of his cock pressed against her clumsily. He didn't push forward though, instead he lowered his mouth to hers in a long wet kiss. He moved his mouth down, kissing her neck and shoulder, before moving down her breast. Judy was surprised to find the skin so sensitive or the wet touch of his lips so thrilling. His mouth closed around her nipple, and she shuddered with pleasure. He sucked long and hard before moving to the other nipple, his mouth replaced by a strong hand that greedily squeezed her breast. Before she realized what was happening, he pushed inside of her.

Hugh did not last long. After only twenty strokes, he pulled out and splattered his cum on her stomach. Each time he promised she would enjoy it more than the last. She had, but she often felt as though she was missing something. Or as though something was being snatched out of her reach at the last moment. Hugh retrieved a towel from the bathroom and cleaned her off. With a kiss, they laid down in each other's arms. In moments, he fell asleep. Judy took a while longer as she sorted through all her different worries. Finally, as Hugh began to wheeze loudly, she slipped into sleep.

***

"Sure, Marty, I think she might be interested it's only that I thought you were looking for hard labor kind of work." Hugh had the phone to his ear and a concentrated look on his face. "Oh, that's swell then. And for her, something secretarial maybe."

Judy did her best not to eavesdrop, but the room was small. She was in the corner with the radio on and an ironing board pulled down from the wall. It had taken a minute to get it set up, but she was fascinated by the amenities of hotel life. On the board, she fought against the wrinkles in their clothes, determined not to walk out into the lobby wearing tattered rags. She heard the phone click down loudly, and she turned to look at Hugh. He wore only boxer shorts just as she was in a pair of underwear. She'd tried to put on Hugh's night shirt, but he'd insisted it was only fair for both of them to be topless. Judy didn't mind. She liked how he ogled her. "Was something wrong?"

Hugh answered, "No. Better news actually. He said they have lots of openings, even something for you if you want it. But he was telling me about the...program. Apparently demand is up."

"The program?" Judy hadn't the faintest idea of what he was talking about. She knew the rumors about the Milktec dairies, but those certainly couldn't be true.

"Hucow. That's what he said. I didn't think they really did the stuff people always talk about, but maybe they do. He said he'd explain all the details when we got there."

Judy suddenly felt sick. "Hugh, if those rumors are true, I don't want to become—"

"Not you, me," he said solemnly. "I said no flat out, of course, but then he said fifteen hundred a week."

The number clogged in her head. It didn't make any sense. "A week? Surely he meant...well I don't know what he meant," she dropped onto the bed beside him, her breasts illuminated by the light slipping in between the curtains.

"Fifteen hundred a week. More than my Dad makes in four months. That's a lot of money to say no to, but being a bull for a dairy...not sure we'd get on well with that."

Judy thought quickly. Without Hugh, she would have to crawl home. If Hugh didn't have a job, the money he'd saved would be burned through in two months. Living in the hotel was one thing, but they needed clothes and food. More than that, they needed money to keep moving when people looked for them. "We can hear him out," she said resolutely. "You're right. It is a lot of money to say no to."

"Marty said that if I accept, they'd take you on as well. Another thousand a week plus a percentage of production, whatever that means."

"Milk production," she answered. They allowed the rest of the conversation to float away unsaid. "Well, hop to it. We shouldn't be late."