Free The Journey Home by Michael Baron Page A

to take an exit or switch to another highway. All that happened instead was that Will spent considerably more time playing disc jockey. In the end, his driving was a bad idea. Since he didn’t have a wallet, he didn’t have a license. If for some reason a cop pulled him over, how would he explain his situation? What did they do with people who couldn’t identify themselves in any way?
    They chose the hotel based on a billboard they passed a few minutes after they decided to stop. The sign for the hotel sat on a busy commercial street with four lanes of traffic and endless options for shopping. The hotel itself, however, was at the end of a winding side street that left the four-story structure insulated from the sounds of cars and enterprise. Like the rest stop, this had been something of a
surprise. A line of evergreens bordered the property, and benches dotted the rolling landscape, creating a parklike impression. The building itself seemed as if it had gone up yesterday, though it had a stone portico that made it feel solid and timeless.
    Joseph’s first thought as they got out of the car was that they’d shot too high with this place. He had a considerable amount of money in his pocket, but he had no idea how long he’d be on this journey. He couldn’t waste his cash on exorbitant lodgings. What was going to happen when they ran out? It wasn’t as though he could borrow from Will. As far as he could tell, the kid had never even had a paper route.
    When they asked for a room, though, Joseph found the rate to be very reasonable. This proved to be even more surprising when the room turned out to have two plush beds with thick mattresses, furniture that looked an awful lot like mahogany, and marble appointments in the bathroom. Maybe they had special rates for people who looked completely lost.
    â€œDo you have a preference for a bed?” Will said as Joseph put the toiletries they’d bought a few minutes earlier in the bathroom. They’d stopped for some clothes as well, since neither of them had anything with them.
    â€œNone at all.”
    Joseph walked out to find the teen taking a backward leap into the bed closest to the window. “Yep, it’s as comfy as I thought it would be. I could get into living in hotels.”
    Joseph sat on the other bed. “I don’t think most
hotels are this nice, though what do I know? I have a feeling that you’d probably start pining for home eventually.”
    Will propped another pillow under his head. “Doubt it.”
    Joseph kicked off his shoes and leaned back. “All right, so we keep avoiding this conversation and now it’s time to have it. What’s the story with your home situation? Were your foster parents trouble?”
    â€œSteve and Karen? No, they’re great. Really, really nice people. They’ve always made sure I was okay. They keep the house clean, and they haven’t brought in eight hundred other kids like I hear some foster parents do. Just five of us, which is pretty manageable.”
    â€œYet as it turns out you’re ready to leave town the first time some stranger comes along with a story about losing his memory and needing to find his wife.”
    Will shifted his head toward Joseph to reveal a sly grin. “Who says you were the first?”
    Joseph threw Will and amused smirk. “My point was that things couldn’t have been so great for you in that foster home if you were so eager to get out of town.”
    â€œYou could give me a little credit, you know. It could be that I’m just this incredibly compassionate guy. I see you looking lost on the street and I decide to give you a hand, even if it means driving with you for hundreds of miles.”
    Joseph scoffed, his amusement draining away and his concern for the boy rising. “Do you always
do everything you can to avoid talking about your feelings?”
    Will turned to face the ceiling again. “I was