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It was a beautiful, late spring afternoon. Warm but not hot, and a gentle breeze sent a shower of white petals from the flowering trees in the park. Morgan was not in the mood to appreciate it, though, as they adjusted the heavy hiking pack they had on. It was everything they owned.
The last couple months had been so hard, but they were surviving… for now, though they were exhausted, and hunger clawed at their gut. They were on a mission to solve that problem, now; if only temporarily.
The young person rounded a corner into a parking lot, looking across to the farmers’ market they so loved. The thought of what they were about to do made them sick to their stomach, but what choice did they have? They would only take enough to survive.
As they moved through the vehicles, something caught their eye and made them stop. It was an old, rusted out truck, spattered with mud and covered in dents… and the windows were down. There was a moment of hesitation as Morgan scanned the parking lot, ensuring they were alone, before reaching in and unlocking the vehicle. This could be their ticket out of here. They could use this to escape the city and their parents for good, and start over somewhere else. Anywhere else. And the truck was so old and busted up, surely its owner wouldn’t miss it. Insurance would get them a new one, right?
Morgan knew they were making excuses, desperately trying to justify what they were about to do as they slipped into the vehicle, putting their bag in the passenger seat and sitting cross legged on the metal floorboard. “I’m sorry… but I need this more than you do.” They whispered, as they got out their tools and pried open the steering column. They were as quiet as they could be as they started cutting a few wires, stripping them to expose the copper underneath. The lights came on as they twisted two wires together, and they cut two more. A light touch was all it took for the engine to roar to life, and Morgan smiled. Now they just had to –
“Good job, Kiddo.”
The voice made Morgan jump and nearly drop the live wires they held. Their head snapped up, staring in horror at the sight of an old man looking down at them through the window. “Mr. Stewart!?”
“Woah, careful there.” The man said, and Morgan was confused to see a kind smile on his face. “Yer liable to zap yerself. Go ahead and tape them ends up, then we can chat.”
Morgan was frozen like a deer in the headlights for a moment. They could feel their heart pounding as their stomach twisted in knots. It took a moment to process what the man was saying, and they looked down at the wires they held, staring at the exposed copper. “Shit…” they said, realizing that they didn’t have their electrical tape. They couldn’t run, even if they wanted to. If they let go of these lines, they’d be headed to the hospital or the morgue.
The sound of a good-natured chuckle from the man was surprising, and Morgan looked back up to see him smiling still. “First time, eh?” He asked, and Morgan just nodded. “Don’t worry. I got some tape in the tool box. Just hold still.”
The young criminal watched as the other left, and they could hear the clanking of a metal box being rummaged through. They took this moment to consider the life choices that had brought them to this point, sitting in the filthy truck they had tried to steal, holding live wires, after being caught red handed by one of the few people they actually respected. They supposed jail was warmer than the streets, and they had food at least.
Their thoughts were interrupted when the man returned, offering the tape. “Here ya go, Kiddo. Now, why don’t ya tape them up.”
Morgan felt sick to their stomach as they carefully taped all of the loose ends. “I…. I’m so sorry, Mr. Stewart. I didn’t know it was yours, or I never…” They trailed off as the door was opened and they moved to climb out of the floorboard. Part of them wanted to run, but the guilt of having almost stolen from this kind man made them stay. “I’m sorry….” They repeated, resigned to their punishment. They deserved it.
“Hey, relax.” The old farmer said. “I ain’t gonna call the cops.”
Morgan slowly looked up at the other, swallowing hard. “You’re not?” they asked, and the man just shook his head. “But… I just tried to steal from you.”
The man looked into the truck, and Morgan followed his gaze to their old hiking bag. When they looked back at the farmer, they met a pair of knowing brown eyes. “We both know that you had a reason, Kiddo.” He said, tone serious. “Now c’mon. Get in and buckle up.” He added, moving to toss a few things in the bed of the truck.
The words made Morgan pause and they looked at the man, instinctively moving to help him strap down the cargo. “What?” they asked.
Mr. Stewart smiled at the other. “Get in.” He repeated. “Ya look like ya could use a hot meal and a place to rest.”
“But…” Morgan was confused, but another look from the old farmer was all it took to make them quietly obey. They got in the passenger seat, shifting their bag to sit on their lap as they started to pull out of the lot.
“Here.”
Morgan’s head snapped up at the word, and they looked up to see the man offering them a lunch box.
“It ain’t much, but it’ll tide ya over ‘til supper.”
Morgan slowly took the box, looking in and seeing a nice packed lunch. An audible growl erupted from their stomach, but the guilt was worse than their hunger for the moment. “I… I don’t want to take your lunch, sir…”
Mr. Stewart shrugged. “Alright.” He said, eyes on the road as they neared the edge of the city. “Ya ain’t gotta.” A mixture of relief and disappointment washed over Morgan, until the man kept talking. “As long as ya can tell me when ya last ate.”
The thief froze at the words, and they had to think about it for a moment. The last thing they’d eaten was a can of tuna someone had lost in a grocery store parking lot a few days ago. They opened their mouth to answer the question, before the man spoke again. “A real meal.”
An uncomfortable silence grew between them before Morgan relented, taking a sandwich from the box and starting to eat.
“There we go.” Mr. Stewart said with a smile.
They turned out onto a country highway, leaving the city behind, as Morgan ate. It was an effort to retain some semblance of manners as they started in on a bag of crisps. Far from calming, their stomach growled more as it was no longer familiar with having to handle a real meal. Not that it was any deterrent to the starving person.
“Now.” Mr. Stewart broke the silence once more. “Where were ya tryin’ to get to with this ol’ truck?”
Morgan looked up and arched a brow at the way the question was phrased. It wasn’t ‘why were you stealing my stuff?’ it was, ‘where were you trying to go?’. “What do you mean?” they asked.
The look of empathy in the man’s dark eyes surprised the thief as Mr. Stewart let out a sigh. “Kiddo, despite my youthful looks, I wasn’t born yesterday.” He said with a knowing tone. “This truck ain’t worth riskin’ prison for. You needed it to getcha someplace.”
The instinct to lie flared up, but Morgan squashed it. If anyone deserved honesty from them, it was this kind man. Besides, it wasn’t like lying would do them any good. They took a deep breath, looking out the window at the fields and trees they passed. “I was just trying to get out of the city.” They confessed.
“So you ain’t got no place to go?” They could feel the man’s eyes on them at the question, and their shoulders slumped. All they could do was shake their head.
Silence filled the old truck once more, broken only by the occasional sound of the engine backfiring. What was only a minute felt like an eternity to Morgan before the man spoke up once more.
“Well.” He seemed to be considering something. “Ya got any problem with hard work?”
Morgan blinked in surprise, turning back to look at the farmer. “…no.” They said, unsure of what the other was getting at. They had tried to get jobs, applying for anything they could find, but their family was working against them.
“Then why don’t you come work for me?” Mr. Stewart said. “We got an old guest house on the property, so you can stay there.”
Morgan was stunned. For a moment, words escaped them, and all they could manage was, “What?”
“It ain’t much, but it’s a roof over yer head.” The man explained, as if they needed to sell the idea to the other. “And it’s farm work, but I’m sure I can teach a city slicker how to work a tractor.”
“Are…” Morgan swallowed hard, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Are you really offering me a job?”
“Yeah.”
The answer was simple, but Morgan was still struggling with the thought. “Why?”
“Why not?”
Morgan shook their head. “Um… because I just tried to steal from you?” They didn’t mean to sound as incredulous as they did.
Mr. Stewart just chuckled, shaking his head a bit. “I don’t think you get it, Kiddo.” He said. “That’s why I’m offerin’ ya the job.” He took a deep breath and glanced over at his young passenger with a serious gaze. “You went after the junkiest hunk o’ metal you could find. Ya ain’t had real food for god knows how long, and you been livin, outa a backpack. Ya need help, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna leave some poor kid on the street.”
There was another brief silence as Morgan collected themselves. Could it be that they found an escape? A place where their family wouldn’t be able to touch them, and they could make an honest living? They cleared their throat, not allowing themselves to get their hopes up just yet. Maybe this man just didn’t know who they were. “You… you know I’m a Sterling… right?”
The man arched a bushy brow at the words. “Yeah?” He said. “What’s that got to do with anythin’?”
Morgan shifted a bit. They honestly weren’t trying to sabotage anything, but it was better to know now if their family was going to ruin this for them too. “Well, it’s stopped me from getting work anywhere else…” They said, rubbing the back of their neck. “And with what happened between my father and your family at that party a few years back…”
“Are you your father?”
The sudden question made Morgan tense, and they had to swallow the revulsion that threatened to creep up at the thought of being anything like that ‘hero’. “…no.”
“Then why would I cuss ya for what he did?”
Morgan stared at the man, not sure how to respond. They were so used to being in their family’s shadow, that this man treating them like an individual threw them for a loop.
“That’s what I thought.” The man said, turning down an old, one lane, dirt road. “So, do ya want the job?”
It took a moment for Morgan to find the words, but they were already nodding. “Yes sir.” They managed.
Mr. Stewart smiled warmly at the words. “Then welcome aboard, kiddo.” He said as they pulled up to an old farm house. He put the truck in park and reached down, skillfully disconnecting the wires to shut the vehicle off as if he had done this before. “Now come on. I’ll introduce ya to my better half, and we’ll get ya a hot meal and a bath."
Morgan swallowed hard, looking around for a moment. There were no tall buildings closing them in, only rolling fields; no grand manners, only a comfortable homestead. After a moment, a small smile graced their face and they opened the door, stepping out into the next chapter of their life.