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"Hmm . . . well, his fare would be half," he said, nodding at Jefferson. He considered me. "You would pay full adult," he said. I didn't want to put out the extra money, since we didn't have all that much, but I was happy he thought I was old enough to travel alone with my brother. "Bus don't run directly to New York from here, you know," he added and began punching up the tickets. "It stops at Virginia Beach and then again in Delaware."

"That's all right," I said, setting down my suitcase and stepping up to the counter.

"Actually, you're in luck because we've got a bus due through here in twenty minutes. But it's only a shuttle that runs through two more stations before it reaches Virginia Beach. You'll have to get off there and take the . . ." he checked his schedule card. "The first one's the eight-forty. Goes to Port Authority station, New York City."

"Port Authority is fine," I said and counted out the money on the counter carefully. He raised his eyebrows again.

"You been to New York before?" he asked skeptically.

"Many times. My father lives there," I said quickly.

"Oh, I see. One of them families where the father's one place and the mother's another, huh?"

"Yes," I replied. His eyes softened and he seemed more sympathetic.

"And your mother don't want to take you to see your father, I imagine?"

"No sir." He nodded, smirking.

"Well, I suppose I could squeeze you in for the cheaper fare. It's no skin off my back," he added.

After I got our tickets, I directed Jefferson to the bench. He stared at the ticket seller until the man went back to his paperback book. Then he turned and fixed his eyes on me with that sharply inquisitive gaze.

"Why did you tell all those lies?" he demanded.

"Shh," I said. I pulled him closer. "If I didn't, he wouldn't sell us the tickets. He would call the police and tell them he had a pair of runaways."

"The police would arrest us and put us in handcuffs?" Jefferson asked, incredulous.

"They wouldn't arrest us, but they would take us back to the hotel."

"Mommy said it's wrong to tell lies," he re-minded me.

"She didn't mean these kinds of lies; she meant lies that hurt other people, especially people you love and who love you," I explained. Jefferson narrowed his eyes and considered it. I saw him digest the idea and then sit back with approval. Shortly afterward, the shuttle bus arrived. There were a half-dozen other people on the bus, sitting mostly in the center and rear and apparently asleep.

"Up awful early," the driver said.

"Yes sir."

"Well, it's the best time to travel," he said. He took our suitcases to put in the luggage compartment and then he went in to talk to the station attendant. I settled Jefferson and myself in the second seat on the right and looked at the driver and the ticket seller through the window. They both gazed our way. My heart was pounding. Were they discussing us? Would they call the police? After a few more minutes, the two of them laughed about something and the bus driver returned. He closed the door and started the engine. I held my breath and tightened my grip on Jefferson's little hand. A moment later we were pulling away from the station. The bus turned down the main street of Cutler's Cove and the driver accelerated. We drove past the stores and shops I had known all my life. We passed the mayor's office and the police station and then we passed the school. Soon we were on the road to Virginia Beach, and Cutler's Cove fell farther and farther behind us. This was my first time traveling alone, but I closed my eyes and swallowed my fear.

Jefferson fell asleep during the ride to Virginia Beach and was practically walking in his sleep when I led him off the bus to wait at the much bigger and busier Virginia Beach station. But the activity and noise were not enough to keep his eyes open. He drifted off again, falling asleep against my shoulder as we waited for the next bus.

This time, after we boarded and took our seats, I fell asleep too. Hours and hours later, when we stopped again to pick up passengers in Delaware, I awoke and found that it was raining. Jefferson's eyes snapped open a few moments later and he immediately asked to go to the bathroom.

"I hope you're not afraid to go in by yourself, Jefferson," I said. "I can't go in there with you."

"I'm not afraid. It's just a bathroom," he declared bravely, but he looked very worried as he went in. While he

was in the bathroom, I went too and then I bought us some things to eat.

"I wanted scrambled eggs," Jefferson complained when I handed him a container of milk and some oatmeal cookies. "And toast with a glass of orange juice."

"We'll get good things to eat when we get to New York," I said.

"Does your real father live in a big house, too?" he asked. "With a maid and a butler?"

"I don't know, Jefferson."