Eddie paused to take a deep breath, then went on. "So I pretended like I hadn't seen anything, and my father was his usual self again when I came home, giving me orders and telling me about all the evil that was happening in the world. So I just waited for the right time – I had everything packed in my back pack – and the next day instead of going to school I took a bus through the tunnel to the highway in New Jersey and stuck out my thumb, and here I am."

Carl pretended to be deep in thought, frown lines wrinkling the bronze surface of his rugged forehead. "How do you think your mother will react to seeing you like this, and finding out what you've just told me?"

"I don't know, I just don't," Eddie answered. "She loves me, I know she does, but she's afraid my father will try and get some kind of revenge and make her life even more miserable than he has up to now. She might even send me back on account of that… Like sometimes he writes her these nasty letters, and still calls her a whore and a slut and stuff like that. And I know it makes her want to die when she gets something like that."

"Well," Cindy piped up, "She may understand why you've come to her and try to put up a fight for you – give your father a taste of his own medicine. Don't you think so Carl?"

"Well, I hope so for Eddie's sake."

"Wow! I sure hope so," Eddie breathed fervently. "I couldn't bare to go back to my father, not after what I saw, I just couldn't!"

"Don't worry now, honey, don't worry," Cindy soothed. "Everything will be all right."

"Do you really think so? Do you?"

"Sure," said Carl and smiled calmly to himself. Eddie's mother sounded like a ripe young fruit ready for fucking. "And we can drive you straight to her house."