Get Up Get Out Go Away
She didn't realize what she was doing until she did it.
Claire was working at the body shop in Middle Area for the employee discount. That was enough to get her the parts she needed to get her motorcycle, a red Harley Springtail, operational.
Other than that, she didn't do anything. She cashed the checks, prepaid her insurance for a year, then sat on the money and watched it grow.
One day in late August, she got mail, telling her what books she'd need to buy for her junior year at Middle Area High.
The rest of the memories come in like a slideshow. Here she is, taking out almost all her money; she can't take it all out and close the account without her co-signatory there, and no way would her "uncle" Kevin go for this, so she leaves fifty bucks in. Without that, that leaves about a thousand bucks; here she is, staring down at the cash in hand.
Here she is, packing without packing. Her father's Army duffel, full of clean underwear; her leather jacket, emblazoned with the garish reds and yellows of a WWII bomber; a K-bar knife, well-used and clean, but in need of sharpening; a photo of herself with Liz and Henry and Murdoc, which she almost doesn't take.
Finally, here she is, putting on her helmet and driving away, obeying posted speed limits at first, then going faster and faster, like she's being chased by something she couldn't name.
Claire doesn't know where she's going, or what she'll do when she gets there. She just knows she can't stay here.
Claire was working at the body shop in Middle Area for the employee discount. That was enough to get her the parts she needed to get her motorcycle, a red Harley Springtail, operational.
Other than that, she didn't do anything. She cashed the checks, prepaid her insurance for a year, then sat on the money and watched it grow.
One day in late August, she got mail, telling her what books she'd need to buy for her junior year at Middle Area High.
The rest of the memories come in like a slideshow. Here she is, taking out almost all her money; she can't take it all out and close the account without her co-signatory there, and no way would her "uncle" Kevin go for this, so she leaves fifty bucks in. Without that, that leaves about a thousand bucks; here she is, staring down at the cash in hand.
Here she is, packing without packing. Her father's Army duffel, full of clean underwear; her leather jacket, emblazoned with the garish reds and yellows of a WWII bomber; a K-bar knife, well-used and clean, but in need of sharpening; a photo of herself with Liz and Henry and Murdoc, which she almost doesn't take.
Finally, here she is, putting on her helmet and driving away, obeying posted speed limits at first, then going faster and faster, like she's being chased by something she couldn't name.
Claire doesn't know where she's going, or what she'll do when she gets there. She just knows she can't stay here.