Where Is Wonderland Anyway. Karen Mueller Bryson

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you and Billy ever get married?”

      “No. Billy never wanted to.”

      “That’s good.”

      “What else?”

      “I've never seen you drive. Do you even have a license?”

      “No. Billy didn’t want me to drive.”

      “How about the trailer? Was your name on the lease?"

      I shook my head. “Billy took care of all that.”

      "What about the utilities? The cable bill?”

      “Billy wouldn’t get cable. He paid Mr. Mooney month to month and that included utilities.”

      “Did you ever take the rent money up to Mr. Mooney’s office?”

      “Are you kidding? Billy never did let me handle his money.”

      “Did you ever get any mail delivered here? Letters from family or friends—magazine subscriptions?”

      “No. I don’t recall either of us getting any mail. I don’t have any family. My mama’s dead and I’ve never seen my daddy. I don’t have brothers or sisters.”

      “So, no one knows you were here except for me and my kids.”

      “Sure looks that way, don’t it?”

      “You have to be sure there is no way anyone would trace you back to Billy or your trailer.”

      “I don’t think there is. But what about my finger prints?”

      “Have you ever been arrested?”

      “Never.”

      “Not even as a juvie?”

      “No.”

      “Then your prints probably aren’t on file anywhere.”

      “What now?”

      “We have to pack up everything of yours from the trailer and get you out.”

      “I don’t have much. Billy busted up my mama’s television pretty bad. I’ve got some clothes. That's about it.”

      “You’re sure that’s all you have?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Do you have a suitcase or anything to put your clothes in?”

      “Billy’s got a backpack.”

      “You can’t take anything of Billy’s with you.”

      “I don’t have anything.”

      “I’ll find something.” She got up. “You go back into the trailer and get your stuff together. I’ll be right there.”

      It sure was quiet when I went back into the trailer to get my clothes. It was like all the bad that Billy had inside him was drained out of the place. Of course, I checked to make sure he was still dead. And he was.

      Sheila came into the trailer a few minutes later. We packed my stuff and she told me I needed to get out of Florida. Fast. I’d never been out of the state before. And I sure didn't know much about living anywhere else - except what I’d seen on television.

      Sheila said she would call the police later that night. She would tell them she heard noise coming from her neighbor's trailer. And she promised she would never tell another soul I was there. For all she knew, Billy was single. The only women she ever saw at Billy's place were the pick-ups he brought home from the Foxy Lady Lounge.

      I left Brooksville with a duffel bag of clothes and two hundred dollars of Sheila's tip money. I wasn't sure where I was headed, except out of the state. And I wasn't really sure how to get out of Florida except to go north.

      My mama always told me that the Lord works in mysterious ways. And accidentally killing Billy was the first in a long chain of mysterious happenings that changed my life for good.

      Chapter Two

      I found myself walking along Highway 41 with no particular destination but out of the state. I had lots of time for thinking. I remembered the first time my mama and I had to pack up in the middle of the night and get out of town. I was all of about seven. It happened a lot over the years. We’d be living with some rotten no good excuse for a man that my mama had picked up at a local tavern. My mama always said she wouldn’t be caught dead in a bar. I guess she thought calling the bar a tavern made it sound more lady-like. Every few months, I’d have myself a new daddy and we’d move our stuff into his trailer. It was good for the first few weeks and then they’d start fighting and before long me and my mama would be looking for a new place to stay. My mama always liked for us to move out at night. She told me once that was because she didn’t want any going-away presents, like a black eye, a cracked rib, or a broken arm. Those were the things she said that men always gave her to remember them by.

      I never owned a watch so I didn’t know exactly how long I’d been walking. It felt like hours, especially in the heat of the afternoon sun. I noticed a gas station and small diner not too far up the highway and decided to make it a rest stop. I didn’t feel too hungry, but I knew I’d best eat if I was to have the energy to keep walking. I also wanted to get an idea of where I was and how much walking it would take to get to the next town.

      The diner was called Bill’s Place. A sign out front read For the Best Meal in Floral City Eat at Bill’s. I walked inside. The place was small with only six tables, and four seats at the counter. The strangest thing was that I didn’t see any cars parked out front or people inside or out. I sat down at one of the tables. I didn’t feel too bad about taking a table for myself since no one else was there.

      I didn’t mind a few minutes of quiet time. It was nice just to sit and rest my aching feet. But after a bit, I wondered if there was anyone there to serve me a meal. I got up and moved over to the counter.

      “Hey,” I said, hoping for a response from somewhere out back. “Is anybody there?”

      I waited a few seconds but nobody answered. I decided to try it a little louder in case whoever ran the place maybe didn’t hear me.

      “Hey. Anybody back there?”

      There was still no answer. Just then, being in that diner with no one else around made me feel like I was in one of those late night thriller movies I’d watch on the old black and white. I wondered if maybe some evil-doer had come in and robbed the place and the staff were all tied up out back. Or worse, they were all dead. It didn’t seem so important to me then to have that meal was I wanting.

      I was fixing to leave Bill’s Place, when this crazy looking car pulled up to the diner. Out of the car jumped a young man with dark, curly hair.

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