Free to Fly

Killer, that’s what she was, according to the billboard at least. As she drove by the fifteen by fifty foot indictment, the horror slowly faded, to be replaced by a deep longing emptiness and latent thread of uncertainty. She had been a Christian long enough to know that God forgives sin. In her heart of hearts, she wondered if maybe this one wasn’t just a little too big, even for God. She continued the drive to her grandparent’s house, tires easily eating up Interstate 70 as she continued across Kansas toward the Nebraska state line. It was nearing the end of the wheat harvest, and mile after mile of farmland was giving up its golden crop to combines and farm trucks, destined for someone’s loaf of bread or box of cereal. Dust and chaff had colored the sky with an ochre haze that promised fat paychecks for the farmers, and resulting revenue for their suppliers, implement dealers, banks and restaurants. She rolled her window halfway down, and blew the city air out of her lungs, drawing in a deep breath of freshly turned soil, green grass and home. Something in her ribcage visibly relaxed. Pushing her straight blonde hair out of her eyes, she wondered how things could have gone so wrong so fast. Feeling the need to stretch her legs and relieve herself, she took the off ramp to Kingdom City, which looked like a carbon copy of the other small towns she had seen along I-70. Several gas stations, the inevitable fast food restaurants, a church, and a shop or two, mixed and matched according to the needs of each community. Grain elevators dotted the distance, and an occasional farmstead, but fields of wheat, now standing empty, surrounded her as she stopped her sports car and shifted it into park. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the sign that said restrooms, all the while keeping a wary eye for anything that might look even a little bit out of place. Her job as a salesperson for a pharmaceutical company had taken her into many rest stops like this in the last two years, and her cautious nature, continual reminders from her family, and her own terrifying experience had combined to make her keenly aware of her surroundings. She flinched instinctively and drew her hand to her heart, as if the physical touch could drain away the pain that still lodged there. The pain subsided to a dull ache as she finished her business and paid for a fountain soda and cheese curls. This was going to have to be lunch, because she didn’t plan on making any more stops until she neared the Kansas/Nebraska line, and whatever awaited her there.