Gone For Good – A Short Story

By Meg Sorick; 2017

Moving day was finally here. I’d always hated living in the Philadelphia suburbs and at long last I was saying goodbye for good. The plan was pretty simple. Kim and I would recruit friends and neighbors to help load up the moving truck on Sunday, we’d stay with her family Sunday night, and first thing Monday morning, we’d go to settlement. With cash in the bank account, I would hit the highway in the truck, towing one of the cars. Kim hated the idea of a coast to coast road trip so I suggested she fly out five days later. “You’ll have some private time with your mom that way,” I had said.

The sale of the house netted us $53,000. Not a fortune, but enough to get started someplace new. Kim kissed me goodbye outside the realtor’s office and I took the cashier’s check with me to the bank on my way out of town. I promised to call her when I stopped for the night. My plan for the first day was to reach Knoxville, Tennessee.

At the bank, I deposited the check in our joint checking account and withdrew the small balance in our savings account which I added to the stash of currency I’d been accumulating over the past few months. The black Addidas backpack held $21,000 in tens and twenties.

The trip to Knoxville would take longer than if I were simply traveling by car. I was counting on that fact in keeping Kim from worrying if I didn’t call until late in the day. My first stop was actually going to be in Lancaster, at an auction, where weeks ago, I had negotiated a lump sum for all my worldly goods. The proprietor had also agreed to pay me in cash. When I drove away with my empty moving truck, I had another $8,000 to add to the backpack.

Next, I returned the truck to the local rental office and transferred my bags to the back of the Subaru. Now, I would hit the road for Knoxville. I arrived only an hour past my estimated travel time. Kim hadn’t worried at all.

The bank had said the money from the cashier’s check deposit would be available in increments of $10,000 per day on the first four days and the final $13,000 on the fifth day. I wouldn’t have time to access all of it before Kim boarded the plane for San Fransisco, but I’d be able to get a sizable chunk. I had planned my route based on branches of the national bank being close by. First thing Tuesday morning, I withdrew $9,990, just below the limit that would attract attention from the Internal Revenue Service. I did the same thing in Asheville, North Carolina the next day. And again in Atlanta, the day after that. Enough was enough. I was cutting it close.

That night in the hotel, I smashed my phone to pieces, cut my driver’s license and my credit cards into tiny bits and said goodbye to Perry Reynolds for good. My new driver’s license issued in Florida, read Michael Johnson, a name so common, it would never stand out.

The next morning, I parked the Subaru in the long term parking lot of the Atlanta airport and took the shuttle to the terminal for international flights. Instead of boarding a plane, though, I circled through the terminal to the area for arriving flights and hailed a taxi to take me back to the city center. After replacing my cell phone using my new identity, I made a single phone call.

“Hey, it’s me,” I said, the smile apparent in my voice. “I’m on my way.”

46 thoughts on “Gone For Good – A Short Story

  1. It was around 2004-2005 time frame, I recently moved in with my real father for a short period. I was in middle school and had a newly found girlfriend, we were dating about two weeks at the time so it was getting pretty serious you could say. I was raised in the south (Georgia) and down there you see many old Victorian houses with the wrap porches. Well my father’s house was a mixture of Victorian exterior with the “shotgun” interior. Front door straight to the back door with rooms on each side. I was laying on the couch in the front left room facing the window, laying some of the sweetest lines I’ve ever heard to my girlfriend. I intensely freeze with

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Interesting! I have read stories of murderers faking their deaths and getting new identities in another place. Or sometimes the police giving a new identity to a witness who deposed in a case, so that no harm comes to him. I tend to think that Perry belongs to the former category! It is fascinating how a clever mind can work out so many things in advance and yet there is always a risk of being found out some time in the future. For the person concerned, it must be a challenge, i think. ☺

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. I purposely left it ambiguous as to what is really going on. I know that’s sometimes frustrating for the reader, but it’s a lot of fun for the writer to see what explanations the reader works out for themselves. Is Perry the hero or the villain? Is Kim the villain or the wronged wife? The answer is all up to you!

      Like

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