Let's start an A2K online novel!

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Many writers write their endings first, then weave the story toward the end.

My ending:

She only knew that she was free, only to be caught up in the lights of a new prison with a son who was her enemy, her friend, but most importantly, her burden.

Just reading and enjoying. Please keep it going.

Moving, owing to will alone, Judy unpacked the few items she'd thrown together. Creased linen blouses found a temporary belonging on the eight or so old wooden hangers lined on the wall next to the sink. She wrinkled her nose at the dingy sink basin, and the yellowish spot targeted by a constant drip. She'd never stayed in such a place. Dennis would find this amusing.

Her ears pricked. The blaring music she'd heard... How long had it been quieted? Where was Chauntay?

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Judy tossed her shoes at the wall and sprawled down on the vinyl green chair beside the sink and thought ****, I am going to have to give my real name when I go job hunting and I hate it when I have to explain my name 'Blossom' and go into the whole thing of being born in the Haight-Ashbury and damn damn damn I hate these friggin' shoes.
Chauntay had the t.v. turned up to 9 and all Judy wanted was a drink and sleep but Chanutay wanted some kind of food and to be entertained, "I know I have some Tylenol in one of these bags" she said out loud, Chautay said "Ok ok I'll turn it down but I want spaghetti." It was going to be a short night.

Judy flung the room service menu across the bed to Chauntay. "See if they've got spaghetti," she said.

"Yeah, $8.50. I'll call it in," the boy said, reaching for the phone.

"Put that thing down!" Judy yelled, taking the phone out of his hand. "I am NOT spending $8.50 for a friggin' bowl of spaghetti for a nine-year old!"

Chauntay looked wounded. "But I'm hungry!" he pleaded. His long black eyelashes framed his eyes so beautifully. He was so hard to resist when he looked at her that way. Judy reached for the boy's backpack. "Here, you've got plenty of snack food. That'll be good enough for tonight. I've got a headache. I really don't want to go out."

The boy gave out an audible sigh, then started rifling through the backpack.

Judy suddenly felt guilty. She remembered how hungry Chauntay had been when he first came to live with her and Dennis. His last foster family hadn't treated him right at all. The four-year-old had only weighed 38 pounds.

Looking at the tall, muscular kid on the bed beside her now, it was obvious he had thrived in the five years since she and Dennis had adopted him. She wondered what effect their split would have on him. "We'll go get a big breakfast first thing in the morning, okay?" she offered.

"Okay," Chauntay said good-naturedly. He crumpled up an empty bag of Doritos and started on a package of M&Ms.

After a quick shower, she came out of the bathroom to find Chauntay at the small dresser opposite the twin beds, drawing something in the sketchbook they had got him for his 9th birthday last June. She loved seeing him draw. He had such an intensity, and he had real talent, and it made her proud.

The channel on the TV had been changed to ESPN, which was showing baseball highlights. "What happened to the cartoons?" she said, drying her hair with a towel.

He kept drawing intensely, answering without looking up. "I get sick of that kid's stuff. Besides, I wanted to see if the Pirates won."

The Pirates. That was their team. Dennis and Chauntay used to watch them together all the time. She knew Chauntay was going to have a real hard time without Dennis around, although she thought it would be better for him in the end. But would it? Was Dennis really so bad? Did he deserve this? Did either of them deserve this? She couldn't think of that right now. The future, that's what she had to think of now. Too late for doubts.

She went over to Chauntay and ruffled his hair, looking down at a picture he was drawing of a king on a throne. "That's a good one. You should keep it with the other ones you have."

"I think I'm gonna send it to dad". He said, still working busily on the picture, and a pinprick of pain pierced her heart. This is not going to be easy at all, she thought. Not at all.

She kissed him on the top of the head, saying nothing, and walked over to the bed.

Chauntay opened one of the side pouches in his backpack. There was one of those boxes of animal crackers in the carton that was supposed to look like a circus wagon. He wondered where that box had come from. He would never have asked for it; they were for little kids and he was nine, almost ten.
He ripped open the inner packaging and pulled out an elephant. He carefully bit off the head and laid the remainder on the fake-wood desk. A giraffe was next and then a bear.
It took about ten minutes until Chauntay was convinced that he had one and only one of each animal arranged neatly but headless in front of him.

He looked over at the bed. She was deeply asleep. still wearing her shoes.
Chauntay opened her wallet. He wasn't interested in the cash and he certainly didn't comprehend the significance of the name on the Social Security card being "Blossom" rather than Judy. He found a business card that read : Dennis Shifflet - Investment Advisor.
Chauntay punched the phone number in and began rearranging the crackers.

"Capital Investments, Shifflet here," the dull voice announced. It was late. Much too late to be working. But what else was there to do? Go home to an empty house? Dennis preferred his office these days.

"Uh...uh....Dad?" Chauntay asked uneasily. "It's me."

The man on the other end of the phone lept to attention. "Chauntay?! Is that you? Are you alright?"

"Sure, Dad. We're okay," the boy replied, happy to hear the familiar voice again.

"Where are you?" Dennis asked breathlessly.

"Um, some motel, I think."

"But where? What city? What state?"

Chauntay wasn't sure how to answer. "Uh, I don't know, Dad." He didn't pay much attention when he was in the car. He mostly played with his GameBoy and slept.

Dennis thought quickly. "Do you see a telephone book around there? Look in the drawers."

"You want me to ask Mom?"

"No," Dennis answered. He could tell Chauntay was making this call on his own. He had a feeling that Judy wouldn't be too happy about it. After all, she hadn't even left a farewell note. Just packed a couple of suitcases and left in the middle of the night. With HIS boy, he thought. Anger bubbled up inside him as he said, "Is Mom there with you?"

"Yeah, she just fell asleep. She was real tired."

"Well, don't wake her up. Just look for that telephone book, okay?"

Chauntay found a thin, yellow-covered volume in the nightstand. "Yeah, here's one."

"What's the name of the city on the cover?" Dennis asked, fingers drumming his desk.

"It says.......Tuba City. That's a funny name, isn't it, Dad!" the boy laughed.

"Tuba City. Are you sure? Does it say what state?"

Chauntay looked at the small book again. "It says Tuba City A-Z, that's all."

Arizona, Dennis thought. It's gotta be Arizona. It figures Judy would be on her way to Vegas. He looked at the clock on his office wall. 10:22. He knew if he could just keep Chauntay on the phone for another few minutes, the police would be able to trace the call.

Judy woke up, Chauntay hung up. "Bed time!" Judy said and Chauntay headed into the bathroom where his bare feet left foot prints on the vinyl floor. "What a dump" Judy said but not loud enough for anyone to hear but then, thought to herself "tomorrow is going to be a better day." The next morning, Chauntay still asleep, Judy stepped outside the motel room, saw the Cafe sign next door and got a coffee to go in styrofoam, extra cream and sugar, came back to the room and squatted down outside the door soaking in the delicious sunshine sipping the coffee while staring at the bug splattered windshield. Chauntay will sleep past noon if left alone and Judy knew time was not always on her side but, for now, finishing her coffee in peace was the only positive she could get a handle on. Of all the damn things to worry about, she was missing the dog.

She was brought back to the here and now by the site of a door opening two doors down. An athletic-looking man in a blue t-shirt and sweatpants tiptoed out, leaving the door open just a crack.

He smiled at her and she smiled back, waving at him with her coffee cup. He had an innocent-looking country boy kind of face, and a charming country boy accent to match. "Hey, how are you this fine morning, maam?"

She kept her voice low, so as not to wake Chauntay up, "I'm doing fine, thanks. And you?"

"Just peachy. No complaints here, no sir." She hoped he would just leave it at that, but unfortunately, he was a friendly sort. He walked towards her, smiling. "Name's Chet. Pleased to meet you."

He stuck out his hand and she took it, meaning to give it a quick shake. "My name's Judy. Pleased to meet you." He took her hand firmly, placing his other hand around it and shook her hand warmly. "The pleasure is all mine, Judy. You from around here?"

Was he flirting with her? It had been a long time, but she thought that he was. And she liked it.

He let go of her hand. She smiled. "No," she said. "New Orleans." The lie came easy. "My son and I are on our way to Las Vegas to meet my husband. "He's a hotel manager out there."

He nodded, listening, then pointed to her Pontiac and said "That your car?"

She took a sip of coffee, nodding, and before she could say anything more, he said, "I only ask 'cause if it is, it looks like you got yourself a little tire problem. Flat as a pancake. That left rear tire. See?"

She looked where he was pointing and just like he said, the damn thing was flat as a pancake.

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Judy took another sip of coffee, wanting to be anywhere else. The coffee was cold, and this Chet Cowboy was making her nervous. She knew enough to know she'd be lying to most everyone about most everything, for the foreseeable future.... She eyed the flat tire on the Pontiac, and briefly let her eyes wander to the minivan sitting next to it--the one with a plexiglass frame of Chauntay's first grade picture hanging from the rear view mirror.

No, she decided. No men, no acquaintances. No complications. Not yet. How to extricate herself from this man, who would surely insist on changing 'her' tire'? She looked into the styrofoam cup.

Hi, Sofia. I've been in the Original Writing thread and the communal writing concept forever and it never seems to work. I don't understand why.
Onward, for what it is worth:

Judy poured the last half inch or so of her coffee onto the walkway outside 217. She squatted down, leaning against the door, and watched the liquid make its way slowly, very slowly, towards the edge.

She was thinking about Dennis and ten years of her life. They got married ten years ago. Was he in love with her? Was she really in love with him?

Judy watched the coffee wend its way around the pebbles imbedded in the pavement and she thought-what is being in love all about?

Judy and Dennis discovered that they couldn't have children of their own. The problem had to do with Dennis.

And that's how Chauntay came into their lives.

Chauntay came to the door of 217, dressed in his pajamas and wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Morning, mom."

The trickle of coffee had reached the edge of the walkway. Judy watched it closely, almost breathlessly.

"Mom..."

Finally it broke and dribbled down outside 117.

"Pack up your stuff, kid. It's time to hit the road."