Fritz dropped the paper bag on the ground at her feet and sat down beside it. She stretched out her legs for a minute, then took off her shoes and wiggled her toes. She was tired. This running-away-from-home crap was not all it was cracked up to be.

She was getting better at it, though, the more she did it. She was learning a few things along the way. Like don't go down the lane in front of the neighbor's house with a suitcase in your hand. That's a dead giveaway. The Neighborhood Early Warning System would go into effect immediately and someone would be on the phone to her folks in a heartbeat.

She dug in the bag and found a pair of socks. Her feet were cold. It was the fall of the year; not an optimum time for running away from home, but it would have to do. The air was pretty chilly. The thick socks felt good against her skin.

She had left home before dawn that morning. It was Thanksgiving Day. Everyone would be rising early. Silently she had slipped out her bedroom window, turned to look at the house one last time, and struck out on foot through the pasture. The moon was bright and full, bathing the landscape in silver hues. Traveling had been easy in that wonderful light.

She had stayed on her own farm at first, following the fenceline to its end. Then she crawled under the barbed wire fence and slipped into the Reeds' pasture, winding her way through a grove of trees and making sure she circled well to the left of the dairy farm. Mr. Reed was already at work milking cows. He might spot her in the moonlight if she got too close.

Fritz really hated to leave on Thanksgiving, but she just didn't see any way around it. She couldn't stand to be in the same house with that man one more minute. He was insufferable. Such a pompous ass, so sure he had all the answers, so absolutely certain he was right and the whole world was wrong. How she prayed that they had thrown away the mold when they made him. She wondered why she had to put up with him. If there really is a God, she often asked herself, and if he really loved me, why in the world would he give me to a hard-hearted, mean-spirited, gold-plated sonofabitch like that?

God, why does my daddy hate me so much? Why does he say mean things to me? Why do his words always slice right through my heart? What have I ever done to him? Well, okay, I am a little headstrong. At least that's what Mama says. And I mess up sometimes. But I'm just a kid. Kids make mistakes, don't they? Is that a reason to hate me?

The sun was rising higher in the sky, warming Fritz's bones. Her feet felt toasty in the socks, and she let her lightweight jacket fall open in front. Well, what now? She had successfully maneuvered all the various pastures and reached her goal: Highway 75. South on 75 would take her to Houston. North would take her to Dallas. Which way would she go?

And what would she do when she got there? She was only fifteen. She looked older, though. In high heels and a dress she had been able to buy whiskey at that little liquor store over on the other side of the Brazos County line. So she might be able to lie about her age and get a job. She also had a driver's license. Fritz dug in her jeans pocket, then looked in her hand. She had $22.46, too. It was a start.

So, Dallas or Houston? She had a boyfriend in Dallas. She could go to Charles but he probably wouldn't be able to help. He had his own problems with his mom and new stepfather. In Houston there were relatives. Fritz didn't really like that option too much, because they'd just call Daddy the minute they found her at their door. Well, she could always go to Houston and not contact the relatives. It would be tougher that way, but it might be best.

Maybe she could go to Aunt Oma's. Aunt Oma wasn't really an aunt ... she was just a good friend of Fritz's mom. Of all the folks in Houston, Aunt Oma was the coolest.

Fritz thought about her mother then. Eula was awake by now and would have discovered her absence. Fritz's heart skipped a beat. The tears gathered in her eyes when she thought about her mother. God, how she loved the woman. It would break her heart if Fritz left. She didn't want to hurt her mother. That was the last thing she wanted. But she had to go. She just had to.

Shit, she needed to get moving! Daddy would be out cruising the roads looking for her. It was now or never. Time to make a decision. She wiped the tears away and pulled a quarter out of her pocket. Heads I go to Houston. Tails, Dallas.

She flipped the quarter high in the air and watched it tumble over and over in its ascendancy. Reaching apogee, it turned and began its descent. It hit the ground with a thud.

Heads. Houston.

Fritz walked to the edge of the highway and stuck out her thumb.