Salty Sovereignty
Brittanee Jacobs
I power on my cell phone one last time. The screen lights up with the familiar Motorola logo. A few seconds later the notification bar displays the number of text messages and calls I’ve missed—74 and 21, respectively. I scroll through my friends’ and family members’ attempts at contacting me, and during the process I received a couple more messages. No matter who the sender is, they all look the same: “Where are you?” “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” “Please don’t do this.” “Give me a call when you can.” “I love you.” Several names return over and over as I scroll through the list. I power off the phone and take a firm hold of it. I stand up and look across the river to the powerful Arch gleaming in the sunlight. I hesitate, but only for a second, before launching my phone into the Mississippi River. “Are we really gonna do this, man?” Ben asked with a troubling sound in his voice. “Of course, Ben. Look at it this way: no parents, no school, no practice, no worries. We can go wherever we want. You’re not backing out on me now, are ya?” I questioned. “No, man. I’m just making sure this is really what you wanna do. I’m in if you are,” Ben answered. “Yeah, I am. Okay, here’s the rest of the plan. I just emptied my bank account and stopped by Kelly and Jim’s for the monthly allowance. I’ll be back to school in about an hour. I only need to grab a week’s worth of clothes. Then we can head out. Does that give you enough time?” “I’ll be ready. See ya soon,” Ben replied. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Ben shouted. I grinned. “A little too late to turn around now. Guess we’ll just have to go through with this!” “All I ask is for us to be able to stop at White Castle. We’re heading to St. Louis anyway,” Ben said. “Duh. No more worrying about what we eat since we’re not 41