“After I left Dan and the blonde at the houseboat, I wandered toward California, stealing cars, riding the bus, hitchhiking with no intention. The future looked flat and I pulled down my sails because I was not ready to skid off the edge of the world. Officially I was not yet a runaway. Dan wouldn’t be looking for me for quite a while and school was out, but I was sleeping in strangers’ parked cars and work was intermittent. I drifted up from San Diego to Los Angeles. My Spanish helped, but most... employers weren’t fooled and didn’t have faith that I would do the work as diligently as a native speaker. I was passing a clothing store on Melrose when I thought I saw someone who looked familiar in the window. I stepped back and stared. The guy was a raggedy mess, skinny and dirty and lost. I was staring into a mirror. Some kids along the road had mentioned a refuge for runaways in the mountains. I hustled up bus fare. I was waiting outside the bakery in Big Bear, deciding if I could stand being in there with the smells but without the taste.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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