The Society of S by Susan Hubbard

Author:Susan Hubbard [Hubbard, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Vampires, Fiction, General, Horror, Horror & Ghost Stories, Modern & contemporary fiction (post c 1945), General & Literary Fiction, Fiction - General, Humorous fiction, Horror fiction, Horror - General, American Horror Fiction, Literary, Coming of Age
ISBN: 9781416534587
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2008-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

On the walk home I began to reason it out. Why shouldn’t I get away from this place for a while? Why not try to find my mother? I don’t know if it was the weather, or seeing Michael, or the need to burst out of my depression, but I craved change.

My mother had a sister who lived in Savannah. Why not visit her? Maybe she could tell me why my mother had left us. Maybe my mother was still around somewhere, waiting for me to find her.

For all of my education, I didn’t know much about land distances. I could tell you how far Earth is from the sun, but I had no idea how far Saratoga Springs was from Savannah. I’d seen maps, of course, but I didn’t plan to look at them for the best route, or to calculate how many days it would take to travel. I figured I could reach Savannah in two or three days, meet my aunt, and then come back around the time of my father’s return from Baltimore.

The most planning Kerouac had ever done was to make sandwiches to last his journey coast to coast, and even then, most of the sandwiches went rotten. The best way was simply to go, to initiate motion and see where it led.

By the time I reached home, my mind was made up. In my room I packed my new backpack with my wallet, journal, an old pair of jeans, and my new shirts, underwear, and socks. I packed quickly; the room felt claustrophobic to me now. I hated to leave my laptop, but it would add too much weight. As an afterthought I threw in a toothbrush, a bar of soap, my bottles of tonic, and sunscreen, sunglasses, the protein bars, and Michael’s copy of On the Road.

I left Dennis a note: “I’m going away for a few days” was all it said.

In the kitchen pantry I found a piece of cardboard and with a marker wrote one word on it: SOUTH, in letters a foot high. I wasn’t running away, I told myself. I was running toward something.

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