Runaway

I  lay in my lean-to and listened to the noises in the woods, convinced there were wolves circling my camp site. The fire was too far away to provide much heat, so I moved out of my little shelter and laid closer to it, thinking the flames would help keep away whatever I could hear out there – wolves or something, it had to be!

I closed my eyes and the sounds seemed to grow louder as the last glow of daylight faded into blackness. I knew there was nothing in the woods that could hurt me. Wolves didn’t bother people and especially would not come near a fire. But there were bears! I had not planned to keep the fire going after dark for fear that it would be seen, but changed my mind and planned to keep it burning all night. I also loaded the .22 to it’s full 19 shot capacity and kept it at my side.

I was filled with fear, regret and guilt. Running away from home had seemed like such a good idea. I had gathered up what had felt like a ton of food (mostly canned and heavy) and taken my father’s .22 caliber rifle along with 9 boxes of bullets. I thought I would walk around Ouananiche lake and deeper into the country, fishing and hunting and living off of the land. It had seemed like an awesome adventure to go on. I didn’t consider taking my father’s gun theft in the criminal sense. Never thought what I would do long term, I just wanted to be gone. I was tired of being afraid, tired of feeling guilty for being the cause of all of my parents arguments. Tired of it all, and freedom seemed to be available in the woods.

However now in the dark, alone, and morning looking like a year away, I didn’t feel much freedom. A lot of fear, but not much freedom.

Ouananiche Lake was only about half a mile from home, but walking around the lake turned out to be a lot harder than I had anticipated. I thought I would be able to just take off into the woods and live there forever, but as the day progressed, walking under the weight of a pack-sack loaded with food, fishing gear, the rifle and shells and whatever else I had added to the pack, turned out to be agony. Once I was far enough away to feel comfortable that no one would easily find me, I would stop and fish, taking a break from the weight. The day passed quickly and I made a lot less progress than I had expected and was dog tired. I stopped well before dark, making a lean-to with spruce boughs, cooking over an open fire, and was having a great time.

Laying in the dark was not so great.

I hear a noise that was out of place and lay still trying to figure out what it was. Then it struck me – it was a boat motor! I ran to the edge of the lake, standing on the rocks and peering out over the dark water trying to judge the direction of the sound. There was no doubt after a few more minutes – a boat was coming across the lake and heading in my direction. I had been found. Pack up and run – get into the woods a little ways and they would never find me in the dark. That was my first idea. Instead, as the sound of the boat got closer, I laid by the fire and waited, glad they had found me. Glad that I would not be spending the rest of the night out here alone.

I pretented to be asleep. I heard footsteps in the woods. Whispering.

“Barry, where is the gun?” A voice said loudly. I opened my eyes pretending to wake up. They police had me surrounded, guns drawn, each one pointed at me. The guns didn’t bother me. I was happy to be ‘found’ and to be going home. Well… there was my father to deal with.

They brought me across the lake and home I went. All I remember is my mother crying. That was the entire world in that moment – my mother crying. Guilt crushed me.

I would not be long before I would run away again, desperate to get away from the tension and fear that never left me. Sometimes I pondered whether my family would be better off without me. Maybe they would have peace if I was not around.

The first time I remember considering suicide I was eleven years old. I kept looking for escape – from my life. Later I looked for escape from myself. But as I was told while in one treatment center or another – No matter where I go, there I am.