Chapter
1
By Megan H.
“All you care
about is yourself! Have you even thought about how I feel about this?” I wailed
trying to understand why in the world my parents wanted to move half way across
the country, “What about my friends?” I felt light headed.
“Cathy, it wasn’t our decision. Of course we thought of
you,” my dad said patting my back. I couldn’t help leaning away a little, “We
thought it best for you. You’ll make new friends.”
I rolled my eyes, “yeah, right before we move again.”
My mom sighed; I could tell all the moving was starting
to wear her down too.
“So, when are we moving to no man’s land,” I asked trying
get an idea of how long I had to get ready.
“Next Thursday,”
my mom replied trying to smile, “we’re going to try to leave arou-“
But I cut her off, “Next Thursday! What are you thinking,”
I said flailing my hands in the air, “That’s only eight days! Why didn’t you
tell me sooner?” I tried to grasp the thought of losing the friends I had just
recently made.
“Cathy Ann Pletcher! Don’t talk in that tone of voice to
your mother,” my dad reprimanded, “We just found out ourselves this morning. “
I heard a sharp honk and grabbed my duffel bag, “I have
to go. Don’t want to keep Bethany waiting.”
I went to leave without a hug, wave, or “I love you”.
Stepping onto the front porch, I slammed the door behind me and skipped down
the steps to the driveway.
As I climbed in my sister’s Porsche 914 she gave me a
knowing smile, “Another argument?” she asked sympathetically.
“Yeah, only this time I had no chance of winning,” I said
still trying to catch my breath, “It appears we are moving –again.”
“You’re kidding” she replied. I shook my head. “Why?
Where are you moving to?”
“Oh you know, just one of those we have to, the government is relocating us kind of talks,” I said
as my sister pulled out of the driveway, “We’re moving to the little old town of
Augusta, Montana next Thursday.”
“Thursday, wow,” Bethany only shook head, “I’m so glad I
was able to get a steady job and move out. Now I can live happily in one place
for over a year.”
My dad, David O. Pletcher, was a secret agent of sorts.
He never really had opened up to me as far as what he did. He has always kept
it very secretive. My mom, Susan M. Pletcher,
and my dad used to be partners. That was how they had met. After they were
married and my mom had Bethany, she quit so she could be home with her and
later on, me. Since then the government keeps uprooting us and relocating the
family to a safer place before assassins find where he lives. When all this is
going on my dad thinks it’s a good idea -it keeps me safe. When I was younger I always considered it
adventurous but, as I got to my teen years I got tired of it rather quickly. We
were moving to a new place less than a year after our last relocation.
“How much longer till we reach SCFG?” I said trying to
break the silence. I was in a swim competition
that involved driving roughly 45 minutes from my home in Catskill, New York to
SCFG, Swim Challenging for Girls, in Albany, New York.
“Only about 5 minutes,” Bethany replied glancing at her
GPS attached to the dash. The GPS had a loud feminine, robotic voice and was
named Martha. I thought giving a gender and name to a GPS went a little too
far.
I grabbed my duffel bag unzipping it; making sure I had
everything I needed. After pulling into the parking lot I realized I had
forgotten my purse. Fortunately I had an extra ID card in my duffel bag for
such occasions.
I glanced down at my watch as my sister tried to find a
parking spot. The parking lot was crammed. It was the biggest and last swim
race of the season, “drop me off at the entrance and meet me in the women’s
room”.
She nodded and pulled around the large sign stating that
the swim race was today. “It might take me long enough to find a spot that I
will have to meet you after the race.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” I said grabbing
my duffel bag as I opened the door. I smiled and shut the door behind me. My
sister could not possibly know how nervous I was. I wished my parents were here
with me, but, there was way too much work to do around the house to take a
break and be at your daughter’s last swim race. The SCFG building was huge-triple
the size of my 3 story house. What would
the race matter after I moved anyway, I contemplated while I tried to make
my way through the building trying to find the women’s locker room. Where I was
going to live they probably wouldn’t even have a swim program.
I had finally found the women’s locker room. Once inside
I took off my shoes and slipped on some flip-flops. I didn’t have much time to
spare. It was 8:57 a.m., the race started at 9:00.
