runaway
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Today we spent the day looking for apartments. Several things conspired against us, including the boy.
First off, we had to travel to Toronto from the Niagara area, which adds overhead and fatugue to the mix. Then, naturally, we were hit with some of the worst driving weather I've ever seen.That effec tively doubled our travel time to the first aparment, making us late.
But the worst was Kenny's decision to run away when he and I stopped at a Tim Horton's to use the toilet. He's tried to wander off in the past, so I was wary. But until now we've been in Japan where a building's internal structure tends to be a lot more closed than they are in Canada. It's not something I ever noticed while I was actually in Japan, but I believe it to be true. You tend to be chanelled along simple paths, which cuts down the choices for escape if you're two. If the boy ever wandered off in a Japanese restaurant, airport, store, or mall it was easy to spot him immediately.
Not so in Canada. In this case, he opened the toilet stall door and zipped through the double doors before I'd zipped up. When I got out of the second bathroom door, he was already out of site.
I figured he must be among the tables, but he wasn't. Some clueless teenager who'd been sweeping the floor had actually helped him through the doors (FFS!). When I caught him, he was ambling into the parking lot in the ongoing blizzard.
Happily, he'd been spotted by someone in an idling car who'd already rolled down his window in an attempt to engage Kenny (bless you Canadians for being get-involved types!). So he wouldn't have simply wandered into traffic on the street (down an embankment and past some trees) if I'd blundered off in the wrong direction altogether.
But still. WTF, kid.