$8.85

"Here," old Phoebe said. She was trying to give me the dough, but she couldn't find my hand in the dark.

Eight dollars and eight-five cents.

Then all of a sudden, I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I did it so nobody could hear me, but I did it. It scared the hell out of old Phoebe when I started doing it, and she came over and tried to make me stop, but once you get started, you can't just stop on a goddamn dime.

Boy, I scared the hell out of poor old Phoebe. The damn window was open and everything.

It was a helluva lot easier getting out of the house than it was getting in, for some reason. For one thing, I didn't give much of a damn anymore if they caught me. I really didn't. I figured if they caught me, they caught me. I almost wished they did, in a way.

Then I wouldn't have to deal with all this planning and looking for where the hell to go. At least I'd be with my parents and Phoebe and I'd have a roof over my head. But no one stopped me, and I was getting all depressed when I walked out that door, back into the cold lonely as hell night.