We end up going to a freight house by the airport & he has me put some
sandbag ballast sacks in this five-foot by five-foot metal container contoured
to fit in a plane. “That’s enough,” he says. “We just don’t
want them to know it’s empty.” He fills out a slip of paper &
puts it in a pocket on the outside of the container. “Look, kid,
I think you’re doing the smart thing leaving. I’d go if I didn’t
have a family to take care of. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I get in the
container & he pulls down & locks the folding metal door &
I realize I don’t know where I’m going or how to get out of this thing
once I get there.
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