The Escape
Jeremy Simpson
Headlights breaking through sweetgum and poplar,
The fresh dew of the lukewarm, soggy night
Hanging, dripping from the carport onto
Her as she quietly stashes the suitcases
Into the hatchback. No one tries to stop her.
To leave Villa Rica, she considers: would it be
Best to face I-20, the cascade of cars sure to
Ramp up come the breaking of the sun,
Or would a trek down to Highway 278
Be the right course for her escape?
She hadn’t thought of this prior, which
Struck her in the moment, as every
Detail of her escape was worked out
Diligently. Procedurally. Intently.
Except for how she was supposed to leave.
Don’t let the porch light shoot on,
She told herself, more a prayer, cautious in
Her attempt to close the hatchback near-silently.
He didn’t wake up, so he won’t come out.
This is what she told herself, had to tell herself.
At the driver’s door, she took a deep breath.
How had she snuck out so easily, so quietly,
Undone the door locks and finessed
The door open and shut, without a single
Noise reaching his ears?
Another deep breath as she entered the car.
Just turn it on and get out of here.
The key hovered before the ignition, as
Timid to enter as she was to leave.
She closed her eyes as she felt the key connect.
The car, roaring louder than she had ever heard,
Rumbled as she sped down the driveway, off
To somewhere better, the seatbelt indicator
Screeching into her ears and she ignored the alarm
And breathed deeply, intoxicated by anxiety.
The fresh dew of the lukewarm, soggy night
Hanging, dripping from the carport onto
Her as she quietly stashes the suitcases
Into the hatchback. No one tries to stop her.
To leave Villa Rica, she considers: would it be
Best to face I-20, the cascade of cars sure to
Ramp up come the breaking of the sun,
Or would a trek down to Highway 278
Be the right course for her escape?
She hadn’t thought of this prior, which
Struck her in the moment, as every
Detail of her escape was worked out
Diligently. Procedurally. Intently.
Except for how she was supposed to leave.
Don’t let the porch light shoot on,
She told herself, more a prayer, cautious in
Her attempt to close the hatchback near-silently.
He didn’t wake up, so he won’t come out.
This is what she told herself, had to tell herself.
At the driver’s door, she took a deep breath.
How had she snuck out so easily, so quietly,
Undone the door locks and finessed
The door open and shut, without a single
Noise reaching his ears?
Another deep breath as she entered the car.
Just turn it on and get out of here.
The key hovered before the ignition, as
Timid to enter as she was to leave.
She closed her eyes as she felt the key connect.
The car, roaring louder than she had ever heard,
Rumbled as she sped down the driveway, off
To somewhere better, the seatbelt indicator
Screeching into her ears and she ignored the alarm
And breathed deeply, intoxicated by anxiety.
She had finally done it. Off to a new home.
All she owned, she had in her trunk. All
She needed was ahead of her.
At the front of the neighborhood, she
Realized that she still had to decide.
Left or right? I-20 or 278?
Either would bring her away to a better place,
Even if she’d never been there before.
Seeking refuge in the foothills of
The Appalachians. Starting over in a valley.
The dark was still vibrant and her headlights danced
Along the timber of red maple as she drove,
And all the while, as she pondered her next
Move, another set of headlights approached behind,
Looking for someone.