Harold opened the door and found Alice Decrux smiling at him and holding out a large tin of what had to be baked goods of some kind.
"Cookies, I presume?"
"Fudge nut brownies. I hope you and Melissa have a sweet-tooth."
Harold chuckled. "We both eat healthy, but not to the point of being fanatics about it."
Alice smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I can't stay long, but I did want to drop these off with you and let you know that we are going to be having a town meeting at seven on Wednesday night just to discuss a few budget and neighborhood issues."
"All right," said Harold. "I'll do my best to get there, but I'm still a bit in the dark about what my teaching and research schedule will look like."
Alice nodded, understanding, and left. Harold shut the door behind her, locking it.
It wasn't that Harold didn't appreciate the welcoming he'd received over the past twenty-four hours. Nor was it fear that motivated him. But Harold really took umbrage at the notion that he or his daughter would be compelled to alter their lives so drastically without their approval. He breathed a sigh of relief that most of the furniture had not yet arrived. He then closed the shades.
He didn't want to take too much, it would be too easy to arouse suspicion. He would take just enough to quietly slip away. Harold didn't know exactly how much he had in his savings and bank account, but it would be more than enough for a year or two, plenty of time to reestablish his family.
It took him less than fifteen minutes to pack a duffle bag full of his clothes, a suitcase with some books and important papers, and two suitcases for Melissa. He fully expected her to complain that she would have so little, but she would surely understand. Harold thought about putting the luggage into the van right away, but decided that it would be best to wait until it got dark. He put the bags in the alcove underneath the stairs, then turned on the TV.
It was a little after seven when Melissa came home.
"So," asked Harold, "how was your day?"
"It was, let's say, illuminating."
"That's good to hear. Melissa, you and I are going to have a quick meal, and then we are going to have a talk."
That was -not- good to hear. Her father reserved that tone of voice for when the situation had gotten seriously deep.
"Dad, have I done something wrong?"
"No. But we are going to do something illegal according to the 'laws' of this town, and I need to know I can count on you." Melissa's eyes widened.
Dinner was nothing more than tomato and grilled cheese sandwiches. Harold turned up the radio and spoke quietly to his daughter:
"As you might have guessed, I've decided to take our chances. We are leaving this town tonight. I've packed our bags, we just need to put them in the van. Do you have any questions?"
"Where are we going?"
"I'm assuming that they will figure that we're heading back to Michigan - that's if they are really serious about preventing our escape and enforcing it. I'm sure we'll do that eventually, but first we're going to British Columbia. I don't know if they have some sort of deal with the state of Washington, but again, we have to act on the assumption that they do."
Melissa was of two minds about this whole thing. On one hand, she liked the idea of staying here and developing lasting friendships. On the other hand, what her father proposed did sound like it would be a lot of fun and the idea of surrendering her humanity, again, that was an awful lot to take in, she was sure that there were some downsides to being a were...whatever. She gave her dad a smile.
"Let's do it."
Calmly but quickly the two Jenkins' got the bags out from under the stairs and slipped them into the van. Harold backed out of the driveway, and then drove towards the highway ramp; minding the speed limit all the while.