Free Flag On The Play by Lolah Lace Page B

On Down The Road . “Da-dum da da da.” I felt the need to sing and dance and that’s just what I did because Iz free.
    “Don’t you carry nothing that might be a load, c’mon ease on down, ease on down, down the road.” I twirled and kicked like Diana Ross had taken possession of my body. I had my imaginary young Michael Jackson on one side and my imaginary Nipsey Russell on the other side.
    I was going to find a way to get out of this house and lookey lookey my cell phone is right here on the table. I picked up my cell. Mason had texted me. I read his text. [I left for work. Be home around 5:30.]
    I ’m not going to respond. I needed a plan and I needed clothes. I wasn’t running away this time. I was going out for a wee bit of air. I was storming away from the crazy castle while my Lord King Mason was building his merry fortresses about the land.
    I looked over at the d igital clock and it was only nine in the morning. If I get out of here quick I can be back before Mason gets in from work.
    First , wash my ass. Second, find some clothes to wear out in the blistering cold. I danced over to the three white and red plastic Target bags that were on the floor in the corner.
    I searched in the bags and saw a few bras. They were the right size , 36C. There were thongs in various colors, no panties. No surprise there. He had got me a few shirts, a large sweater and two pairs of jeans. The jeans were the right size. He also got me shoes, ballerina flats and some cute black boots with buckles on them. How the hell does Mason know all my sizes? Freaky.
    I took a bath instead of a shower . I needed to soak my cootie cat. I dressed in the clothes Mason bought and I must say I looked half-way decent. The buckled boots were especially cute on me. My hair was a mess, no gel but my perm was fresh so a little water made it lay flat enough.
    I roamed the house that was more like a mansion. There were bedrooms everywhere. Some of the rooms smelled like paint. There were even more rooms in the basement. I was being held hostage in only one of them.
    The dining area was spacious but there wasn’t any furniture in the house. The kitchen cabinets were bare of food but there were a few pots , pans and utensils. The refrigerator had milk and a few bottles of water. There was more food in the basement frig.
    Mason hasn’t had this place long. Ther e was no landline in the house but there was cable and an internet connection. There was only the one bed that I slept in and the one flatscreen TV that was in the basement with me.
    I found my way into the g arage. My car was the only vehicle parked inside it. Where the hell are my car keys? I stopped moving to think. I remembered my spare key.
    Ever since I became a mother I always keep a spare key car in my make-up bag. One of my friends accidentally locked her infant inside her car at a gas station. It was the dead of winter. I never forgot it. So when I had Trey I made sure I had two keys on me at all times.
    I rushed back into the house. Mason had given me back my purse. I was sure Mason didn’t look in my make-up bag. Why would he?
    I raced down to the basement and I found my purse. My spare car key was in the make-up bag. I always found a rubber band so I made me a ponytail.
    I stopped moving long enough to think about Mason coming home early to check up on me. I could leave a note. I was starting to panic. I needed to calm my dumb ass down. I was thinking too hard about Mason’s feelings. If he came back and I was gone, it would be hell to pay. It would also hurt him. I should just go before I change my mind. I’m coming back, I am. I told him I would. I promised. Whatever. Bounce bitch.
    My feet reluctantly took me back up the stairs. I went out the back door into the garage and went on my way. I got to the main road and recognized the street sign.
    I had a few s tops to make before I returned to prison. I made my own work release program. I was on borrowed time so I couldn’t turn