Purple Morning

I left home the summer of my fifteenth birthday. My father owned a house in cape cod which he built in 1977. We spent a few weeks there each June or July with extended family coming in from Minneapolis. My parents had divorced three years prior and had dated on and off ever since. I did not handle their divorce well. I was angry and didn't' want to live in separate houses nor get split up from my brother Gabe, though, I'm sure he couldn't have shared a more opposite sentiment. Nothing worse than a tag-along brother who resembles a girlier version of Taylor Hanson.

We had been at our house in the cape for a few days when my father quite casually told us that our mother was on her way up to stay the rest of the vacation with us. Previous to this new reunion they hadn't spoken for about six months and Gabe and I had been the relayers of any urgent information. The tone my father used to atom-bomb extreme information was that of total matter-of-fact apathy, as if he had no intellectual or emotional investment in what he was letting us know. (the best example of this would come two Christmas's later when he informed us that he had prostate cancer while in the midst of watching jeopardy and cooking a turkey dinner) I was furious. It wasn't that I hated my mother, I didn't, (in fact, I lived with her at the time), it was just that I wanted them either together or apart, I couldn't take the flip-flopping. One week they were planning my college fund investments together, reading the New York Times while giving each other foot rubs on the living room couch; the next week I would be listening to my mother gripe "If you want an allowance, bring it up with your father." So it wasn't that I disliked either, I just wanted some consistency.

"If she's coming, then I'm leaving."
I still wonder if I really meant those words when they came out of my mouth.
"well, she's on her way." my father replied.
so I packed my backpack and called my best friend Alexis to come pick me up on Route 6, the main 2 lane highway that runs up and down the cape. And then I began walking the sandy road that led me there. About a quarter of a mile from route 6 my mothers car passes me. Stops dead. Reverse.
"Honey, where are you going?" she asked.
"Just to a friends house for the night" I said, as nonchalantly as possible.
My mother is really the only person who's always been able to detect my bullshit and lies flawlessly.
"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow" she said, eying my bulging backpack.
"Ok, love you, gotta go" I started walking.
The moment she was out of eyesight I started running towards the road. I knew I only had about three minutes or so before she got to the house, talked to my dad, and basically flipped out completely. Just moments after coming on 6, still catching my breath, I saw a dirty yellow VW beetle pull over in front of me. I walked over to see a pretty blond behind the wheel smiling like the Cheshire cat.
"Hi, I'm Annie, a friend of Lex's, she was at work but called me to come pick you up, hop in!"

And just like that, I left behind my family, my high school career (if you would call it that) my hometown, my oath that I'd never do cocaine or ecstasy, my cat, my possessions, and my home. I've never felt freer.

That first night, Annie, Alexis, Erica, Milhouse (nicknamed that for his resemblance to the Simpson's character), Mark and I all ate ecstasy and cuddled in the small shed behind Alexis' house which we had filled with blankets and pillows. We listened to beautiful music I can't even remember and spent hours touching each other's skin, talking and laughing. In the morning, at about five am, when the first blue hues advanced upon the edge of the sky, we decided to go watch the sunrise over the ocean. Alexis drove the six of us in her run down Chevy, nicknamed the Baby Blue Beaver, to Long Nook Beach, which was only about a mile from my father's house. When we pulled in there was one other car in the parking lot, which I immediately realized was none other than my fathers. He often liked to come out very early and fish before anyone else woke up.

"I have to go talk to him" I said to Alexis.
"Sam, you are rolling on ecstasy right now, and I know you think that's a good idea, because everything is beautiful and flowers and shit right now" she said "but you can't go talk to your dad right now, on the beach at 5 in the morning with your pupils as big as your head"

I stood on the dune and looked down to see him standing, one arm on his side, staring at the ocean, waiting for a fish to bite. I still wonder how different my life would have turned out if I had just walked down, talked to him, apologized, and moved back home. It may have been more peaceful, but probably far less interesting. I wanted so badly for him to just turn around and see me, for it to all be over, for my charade of running away to come to an end on my very first day. I willed him with my mind to turn around and see me. But he didn't. Alexis grabbed my arm and walked me back to the car, and we pulled off into a purple cape cod morning, listening to pavement, silent and lost in our individual thoughts.