Six days of driving, sleeping, second hand smoke, drinking, empty beer bottles, almost no talking, and hands still tied, Sam finally went into a town.

I was awakened by the stolen truck that I have grown fond of, hitting a bump in the road. I looked for a sign, like I have started as a habit, and surprisingly found one. I blinked twice just to double check, and the sign was still there. Brooklyn, Iowa; Community of Flags. How the hell did we get to IOWA!? As we made it into town, I began to see something in the air. They were flags. Tons, and tons of just flags. Alongside the road these flags were lined up. My look of confusion must have shown, for then Samuel said, “Avenue of Flags.”
“Pardon?” Either I was really tired, or he was speaking another language.
“It’s the Avenue of Flags. I don’t know why, but this town likes flags. Kind of like your noisy bracelets. They have all the flags. All the states flags, Armed services, international flags, it’s just a big collection. They call themselves the ‘Community of Flags.’ For some reason I have always wanted to come here. This is where we are staying now.”
“On the road? Or in this town?” It was really beautiful. There were flowers everywhere, and many people mingling around the sidewalk. Really Sam, you’re bringing us to a small town? Come on now. Have a brain. They will wanna know where we came from, and such. Wow.
“In this town smartass.”
“Well, you can’t blame me for asking, we have been living on the road for about a week now.”
“I got us a place.”
“How? You got cash?”
“I have a friend I went to before I came and got you. He hooked us up in a small apartment beside an alley. It will be all good. Quit worrying. Stop asking questions. What is that thing you always say?”
“Seize the day. Carpe Diem. It’s Latin.”
“Right, Carpe Diem. Do that.” Samuel said as he turned off the Avenue of Flags. We went down some more roads, and then he pulled into a fenced parking lot. He gathered his belongings, except one gun, and went and put them in what I assume is our new apartment. Sam made his way back to the truck, and came to the passenger side. He stood with his armed crossed in the now glassless window and looked at me. “Alright, time for our talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yes Adalynn, our talk. If I let you out of this truck, do you have any intentions of running? Going and finding the cops and getting me turned in, and possibly the death penalty for murdering, attempted murder, and kidnapping, along with what I did before all that? Do you?”
“I probably should, but no Sam, I don’t.”
“Hell, I think you should too, but I’m sure as hell glad you don’t. So you are going to stay here with me?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Well I don’t know if I am enrolling you into any schools yet. I know that we both need jobs no matter what, so we get jobs first you hear?”
“Alright.”
“Okay good. Right now, you and I are going to go get changed up and then we are going to get some food. Sound good?”
“Yeah...but what you mean ‘changed up’?”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh, which sort of began to worry me. “Oh little cousin, you will see when we get where we are going. Now, give me your hands.” Sam removed the rope, opened the truck door, and waited for me to get out. I hopped down, and Samuel shut the door. He watched me for a second, seeing where I would go, but I just looked back at him. “You’re really staying?” He said in a whisper that almost sounded astonished.
“We going?” I asked motioning for him to begin walking. He turned and began leading the way to the mystery place. I began to follow, when Sam turned back around.
“One last thing Adalynn.”
“Yes Sam?”
“No guys.”
“Okay Sam. No guys.” I said as I walked over to him and began pushing him forward.

The Hair Emporium. The mystery place was The Hair Emporium. When Samuel said “changed up” he meant our looks so nobody would recognize us. I was not too thrilled about any of this. He didn’t seem to care though. Then again, Sam is a guy.
“No…Sam..Please don’t make me cut my hair!”
“Quit whining like a little girl. We are cutting your hair off. I don’t know how you can handle it at that long length anyways. Does it reach your a** yet?”
“Yes it does, and I like it that way.” It was pure sarcasm. My hair wasn’t that long. It only came just past my ribs. The point was I like my hair long. With my long red hair, I felt unique. A musician.
“Well I hope you like it at neck length and dark brown.”
“No. No. No. Sam, not the color too!”
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Maybe now you won’t look like a country hick with that red hair of yours. It’s so curly too.”
“It’s naturally straight. I curl it.”
“Well you’ll be wearing it straight now.”
“What are you doing to your head?”
“Im going blonde.”
“You’re really just going to do that to yourself?!”
“Yes I am. Now go sit in the chair and stop complaining.” I walked to the chair and looked at the real Adalynn for the last time as the stylist lifted my hair and chopped my long red locks off all at once.