The ride home

His name was Richard and he was in a 18 wheeler .Just turned off the freeway to make a phone call. If I needed help he would take me to the sherrif office up the highway. No I just need to make a phone call. I called my childhood home hoping to reach my father, my mother answered I told her of my trip and the rape she replied ,Well you made your bed now lie in it , those words would shape my intire future and drive a wedge between her and I that remains there now 40 years later. "Maybe she did not understand you" Richard was in disbelief that she had hung up on me ,I was not. There was a reason I left home at 14 and she was it. The sherriff office was a blur why was I on the road, who was I , Where was I going , Will you press charges and stay in Florida. Some how Richard knew as well as I this was a waste of time. I wanted him to take me out of there and that is what he did. He took me to Tampa, put me in a motel room and the next morning Robert was at the door, don't know till this day how he knew I was there. He seemed to be a different person and after two hours of talking and just laying on the bed together He stood up went to the door and said "I can't play house." Dear God who was playing. That evening Richard returned and said he was being sent to california, going right thru Waco and with that I was in the sleeper of his diesel headed back to Waco , back to what never in my life had I been so without a plan. Where would I go from here I had to be strong for my son for now I was all he had.