by Linda Ellen
“What? I didn’t get that. Repeat it, please.” She almost laughed as she watched him squirm like a man on a hot seat. Goodness, what could it be?
“Orville,” he said a bit louder, sending her a salty scowl. “But if you ever call me that, I’ll turn you over my knee.”
She grinned at him mischievously. “My my. Temper, temper, Corporal.”
He squinted one eye at her and gave a nod. “Just remember, you were warned.”
She giggled and shook her head, before turning forward again to stare out the passenger window at the passing scenery while she luxuriated in their playful banter. Running his name over in her head, Stephen Orville Wheeler…Stephen Orville Wheeler…she realized his initials were…
“SOW!” she blurted, immediately pressing her fingers to her lips and looking back at him to gauge his reaction.
He pressed his lips together in a pout and harrumphed. “Yes. And that’s the main reason I hate my middle name. You happy now? And if you make one crack concerning anything to do with a certain curly-tailed species of the animal kingdom, I’ll toss you outta this car—Victory Rolls and all.”
She bit back another giggle and reached over to lay her hand on his arm. “My lips are sealed.”
“Mmm hmm,” he shot back, but his look showed it was all in fun.
After about a mile, he aimed another look her way, explaining, “It was my adopted grandfather’s name, on Mom’s side. I never met him, he died before she married my…Jack Wheeler.”
Curious, she asked, “How come you call your mom ‘Mom’, but you always refer to your adopted dad as ‘Jack’?”
He seemed to give that some thought and then offered, “I don’t know. I guess ’cause he and I didn’t have much time together, like a father and son. He was always working, and when he was home, he was too tired, or too busy for us to do anything fun. He didn’t have much patience with me…never really tried to teach me things like most dads do. So mostly, it was Mom and I. Then, he was killed, and…that was that.”
She gave him a measured look, her teeth gently clamping her lip as she wondered if she should continue the subject. Finally, she asked softly, “Does it bother you…knowing you were adopted?”
She watched him purse his lips as he formed an answer, ultimately admitting, “It used to. A lot. When she first told me…I cried for a week.”
That pierced her heart like a shot. In her minds eye, she pictured an image of the man she knew, Steve the “hero”, as a scared little eight-year-old boy wracked with tears, and it made her own eyes begin to fill. “Oh Steve, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, reaching over again and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“It is what it is.” He shrugged and drew in a deep breath, letting it out with a puff, in somewhat of the same fashion as he’d done before. “The other kids used to give me the business about it, though. You know, calling me things like stray dog, illegitimate, runt of the litter—yeah, especially that one, considering those darn intitials…” he glanced at her, but she let her eyes show him only compassion. “Plus they’d say things like, ‘I bet your real parents threw you away.’ That one used to really get me, since Mom couldn’t tell me anything about them.”
Mary June stayed quiet, letting him talk. Instinctively, she knew he very rarely told anyone the things he was sharing with her right then. He lapsed into silence, however, and she could tell by his ticking jaw muscle that he was gritting his teeth, probably reliving past taunts and insults. At that moment, she wished she could walk up to those mean, awful kids and slap each one across the face for hurting him like that. No one deserved to be made to feel worthless or unwanted.
Scrambling for something to say, she uttered, “But you know they were wrong. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler loved you and wanted you for their own…” When he didn’t reply, she asked tentatively, “Did it help any when Mr. Tucker explained what really happened?”
He tilted his head back, his left hand going to the back of his neck to knead and rub as if trying to massage away the sudden tension and angst. Then he answered with a slight shrug, “Some. But, I quit lettin’ it bother me a long time ago. I’d just tell ’em all to go to…” he stopped himself and cleared his throat, “to take a flying leap, and I went on about my business.”
Before she could answer, they both felt the car jolt as the passenger side front tire hit a pothole, immediately followed by a loud noise like a pop and the car began to shimmy with an awkward bounce.
“Son of a—” Steve bit off the remainder of the salty phrase.
He immediately steered the Ford over to the edge of the road, loudly muttering, “Tire must have blown out when we hit that hole.” He got out and circled around, bent down to examine his ruined tire, and then slammed a hand against the front fender, griping, “Dry rotted piece of junk! I was hoping it would last a few more months.”
Gene, having seen what happened in his rearview mirror, pulled over, and backed his Ford up a few feet in front of the distressed vehicle. Then he got out and came toward his brother. “Is it flat?”
“Yeah,” Steve grumbled. “Hit a chuckhole and the stupid thing blew.”
“Yeah, bro. I just barely missed it myself. Your spare good?”
Steve rose to his feet dusting his hands. “I think so.” He reached out to begin removing the spare tire from its mounting above the passenger side wheel well, adding, “Don’t know, never had it off to look at it.”
Gene began to unbutton his jacket in preparation to help, but Steve shot a look over his way. “No, man, that’s okay. No use in both of us gettin’ dirty. You guys go on and we’ll catch up.”
Gene hesitated in mid button, glancing at Viv, who shrugged, and then back to Steve. “You sure, man?”
By then, Steve already had the spare off its mounting bracket and leaning against the side of the car. Opening Mary June’s door, he motioned for her to get out and then he reached under the seat to retrieve a tire iron. “Yeah, bro. It’s a one-man job. Go on.”
Gene shifted his attention between the girls and Steve, with his eyes narrowing as he studied his brother. Mary June had a feeling Gene sensed something was bothering Steve. Then he tilted his cap back with a small nod, choosing not to push him at that moment. “Well, if you’re sure. I gotta stop and get some gas anyway. There’s a Gulf station about three miles up. If we get separated, go all the way to about a mile before E-town proper, the access road to the farm is on the right.”
Steve was busy rolling his sleeves back and gave his brother a vague gesture of acknowledgment. “Sure, man. See you in a bit.”
Vivian wiggled her fingers in farewell to Mary June as she and Gene got back in the other car and drove off. Mary June looked back at the man now squatting beside the very flat tire and using brute force to break the bolts loose, his arm and back muscles flexing and bunching as they worked. Was it her imagination, or did he seem to be taking out his frustration on the unfortunate object?
Feeling like unnecessary baggage, she moistened her lips and mumbled, “Can I help?”
“Pff, yeah right.” He shot her a look. Then seeing her hurt expression, he amended, “Relax babe. Be done in a jiffy.”
Mary June answered him with a nod and shoved her hands in the pockets of her skirt. All she could do then was watch as he deftly performed the actions needed to fix the problem.
True to his word, in a few minutes Steve had the old tire off and the spare secured in its stead, and was soon clamping the flat to the side of the car. Another few minutes later, and they were back on the road.
Glancing over at her, he said, “Reach under the seat and fish me out that grease rag, will ya?”
“Grease rag?” she made a face, imagining having to touch a rag filled with black and smelly, gooey grease.
He rolled his eyes. “That’s just the name, it’s clean.”
She felt around and finding it, handed it to him. He fumbled a bit trying to hold the steering wheel and wipe his hands, until she reached over and steadied i
t for him. He mumbled his thanks.
Several miles down, they passed a gas station, but they were going so fast Mary June couldn’t see if the other Ford was among several other black cars there or not. “Shouldn’t we be looking for Gene and Viv?”
“I looked, I didn’t see ’em,” he mumbled again.
She had been turned in the seat looking at the diminishing station, and when she moved to twist back around, she spied the gas gage on the dash. Alarmed that it seemed to be reading under a quarter of a tank, she gasped, “Steve! Shouldn’t we get some gas, too?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “I…I don’t have any ration coupons on me. But don’t worry about it. I know my car. When the gage reads empty, I still have a quarter more.”
“Still…I wouldn’t want to run out of gas…” she paused as he frowned. “I mean…that would be a pain…”
He said nothing, and she lapsed into silence. Their earlier carefree camaraderie now stunted, they rode on for several miles, only saying a few words to one another. They made it through West Point and up Muldraugh Hill, and then drove past the Gold Vault and the entrance to Fort Knox. It was the first time she’d seen the gold depository in the daytime and she wanted to chat about it with him, but the brooding look on his face made her have second thoughts, so she remained silent and just gazed out the window.
Mary June tried hard not to keep looking over at the gage on the dash, instead repeating a litany in her mind – It’s not empty. It’s not empty. Then a bit later, he unexpectedly took a road to the left.
Alarmed again, she squealed, “Steve! Why did you turn there? I don’t think this is the right way.”
“He said the farm is off an access road.”
“But…he said it’s on the right.”
“No, he said left. This is the road, relax.” Then, as if in afterthought, he added, “He told me the mile marker earlier.”
“I don’t know… I think we should turn around…ask somebody…and slow down, you’re going way too fast.”
He flashed her an aggravated look. “Don’t tell me how to drive, woman!”
She turned her head and looked at this stranger that had suddenly slipped inside the body of the man with whom she had fallen in love. Why is he being so stubborn? Is this the real Steve Wheeler? He seems like an imposter…maybe when my back was turned, Gary the triplet switched places with my normally sweet corporal, she mused, but didn’t dare utter that out loud.
Whispering a quick prayer that they wouldn’t get lost and run out of gas, she settled against the seat, bit back the nagging words that were straining to burst forth, and hung on for the ride.
Her fairytale romance just turned into a nightmare.
CHAPTER 15
The car topped yet another hill and still Steve saw nothing but rolling fields and farmland. No houses, no stores, no people. Where the heck are we?
He had realized minutes after he’d done it that he’d turned the wrong way, but pride and stubbornness kept him aiming further down this never-ending road instead of turning back and doing what Mary June had suggested. He’d figured he would find a connecting road to circle back around without her realizing, but neeeeeew.
Bullheaded. That’s what you are, you idiot. Just like Mom always said – you’re too stubborn to come in outta the rain. It’s just…it seemed that whenever anyone questioned his decisions or his driving, it always boomeranged him back to when kids on the street would cut him down and make him feel dumb.
He drew in a deep breath and opened his mouth to make a nonchalant comment along the lines of perhaps he had turned the wrong way, when he heard the telltale sucking sound of the fuel pump straining to siphon liquid where there was none. Two seconds later, the car coughed and the engine died. Steve coasted to the side of the road and turned off the key in the ignition.
Bracing for an angry outburst from the female in the passenger side of the vehicle, he clamped his teeth and sent a sideways look in her direction. She was sitting against the window, arms crossed over her middle, staring at him with one eyebrow cocked and her lips in a straight line. He waited. Silence.
Feeling like a guilty little boy who knew he deserved to be spanked, he groused, “Well? Go ahead and say it.”
“Say what?” she queried in a surgery sweet voice. “Something like we turned the wrong way and ran out of gas, just like I was afraid we would?”
Slowly, he released his breath through his nose, fighting a battle raging in his head. Pride, shame, frustration, and embarrassment were all jumbled and several remarks were floating near his mouth, vying for preference.
Finally, he grumbled, “Well, seems like we’ve got two choices. Either forward or backward.” He bit back the admission that he couldn’t buy gas even if he walked back to a gas station. He had intended on surreptitiously asking Gene to pump a few gallons in his tank, but he’d been so sidetracked by the flat and distracted by Mary June’s presence in the car, he had simply forgotten until he had passed that point of no return in his head.
Reaching back for his jacket and cap, he mumbled, “Guess I’ll start hoofing. You keep the door lock—”
“You can’t mean to leave me here alone!” she squealed, reaching toward him and grasping his arm in a death grip.
Steve stopped and looked into her eyes. Seeing the fear and uncertainty, suddenly all of his male pride seemed mean and cruel. He’d done this, and now they were stranded who knows where with no idea when they would find help. She’d been in his care! He felt like the jerk of the month.
Softening, he said, “It’s a long walk…”
She pressed her lips together for a moment and then uttered, “Can’t be helped. At least it’s a warm day.”
Then she began gathering her purse and sweater as he grabbed his belongings, along with the keys, and locked the vehicle. Standing together at the front of the car, he asked, “Well, which way?”
“Surely there’s a farm house or something nearby. Who owns all this empty land?”
He shrugged as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. “Heck if I know. But come on, it ain’t gettin’ any earlier.”
They turned and began walking down the gravel road. Mary June kept her eyes on the ground to avoid tripping over any rocks or holes; only sporadically did she glance up and around. The only living things they encountered were an occasional rabbit, birds in the trees, and crickets.
Walking in silence for several minutes, they topped another rise and saw more of the same thing. Except one difference – up ahead they saw railroad tracks crossing the road.
“Tracks!” Steve exclaimed. “Train tracks lead somewhere. C’mon, let’s follow them and see where they take us,” he added, grasping her hand and tugging her along with him. When they reached the rails they looked both ways. There was nothing but tracks, trees, and brush on both sides as far as they could see until the steel rails curved out of sight.
Mutually coming to the same decision, they turned left and began to follow the rails until they reached a line of dense trees – and a sign that read, Government Property, No Trespassing.
“It’s Knox!” Steve suddenly declared, smacking his forehead with his palm. “We must be on the backside of the base! Okay, now I know the tracks will come out somewhere and we’ll find help.”
“If we don’t get shot for trespassing first,” she carped, sending him a sour look.
He ignored it and grabbed her hand again. “Come on, let’s follow these tracks until we find something or someone. The day won’t be a total loss – we’ll just get to Gene’s family’s place a bit late,” he added in an attempt to placate his companion.
“A bit?” she asked, but nevertheless, fell into step beside him.
They trudged over the tracks together, side-by-side but not touching, both of them struggling to keep their footing and trying not to trip on the ties while scrutinizing their surroundings for buildings or people. They walked…and walked…and walked…
Several times, Mary June asked him to
stop for a few minutes so she could rest her feet in her high heels. Each time, he offered to carry her, but she refused.
Then, they would set off again. Steve had never cared enough to find out how big the territory of the base was, and now he couldn’t believe the vast acreage out this way – and the trees. So dense, he couldn’t distinguish even a bit of clearing in any direction. He was starting to get concerned. Heck, there might even be animals in here… I know there are deer, ’cause I’ve heard about people hunting on the backside of Knox…and fishing in the streams. Surely there ain’t any bears or something that would attack. Well, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Mary June safe. What an idiot I am. I bet she’s wishing she’d never gone out with me…
They had been walking down a stretch that curved to the right, both of them hoping that the tracks would straighten out into some form of civilization. However, when they could see around the bend – it was nothing but more of the same. Trees, brush, and tracks that seemed to go on for miles!
Mary June’s compliance evidently had hidden smoldering frustration, because suddenly it was like a lit match meeting gasoline fumes – she’d had all she could take and burst out, “I can’t take this anymore! We’re just going to keep walking down these stupid tracks forever and never find anyone! Gene and Viv must be worried sick – and how would they find us even if they find the car! We should have left a note in it telling them where we went,” she fretted. “Stephen Orville – of all the stupid—”
Anger flared and he sliced her a look, “Don’t call me that, and don’t call me stupid!”
They stopped and squared off facing one another in the middle of the rails. She planted her hands on her hips and enunciated slowly, “I… wasn’t… calling… you… stupid. I… was… going… to… say… what… you… did was… stupid.”
“Okay okay, I’m sorry!” he declared with a sneer, planting his hands on his hips, matching her stance. “I did a dumb thing, okay?”
