Joe led them towards the rear garage area of the dealership, where they found a full size four wheel drive Chevy pickup. Joe had worked at a dealership before, and recognized the garage area as the Prep Shop.
"When someone buys a new car," Joe said, "or truck, or whatever, they have to prep it. Take the plastic off the seats, fill the tank, wax it, sort of get it ready for the customer, you know?"
"I thought they came from the factory all ready to go?" Arlene said.
"Well... they do, sort of," Joe agreed, "but, they have plastic over the seats to protect them, and oil drips from the cars overhead on the transport trucks; dirt gets tracked into them when the guys move them around the lot. Sometimes they may have a scratch, or small dent that the body shop guys have to fix, and they get paint over-spray all over the car; dust in it, you name it. I used to have to prep cars, and it's not much fun. Minimum wage type of job and the salesman who sold the car is usually breathing down your neck all the time you're getting it ready. I hated it. I figured though, if we're going to find a truck all ready to go, this would be the first place to look. Gassed up and the whole nine yards. They even waxed it for us." Joe finished, trying to break the somber mood that had set in as they crossed the airfield.
His effort worked partially, Arlene offered him a small smile as she spoke. "You know a lot of things don't you?"
"Not really," Joe said. "I just worked at a lot of different jobs. Mainly just to stay employed, but also, I guess, because I believe you should learn as much as you possibly can. It worked for me. I grew up with a lot of guys who were constantly unemployed. Maybe they were carpenters, or roofers, or auto mechanics, whatever. When things would get bad, they'd get laid off. Not that I never got laid off, I did, but if I got laid off I could go to work somewhere else fairly quickly. I can practically build a house from the ground up, and do all the rough and finish, electrical, plumbing, and carpentry. The same with cars. I just learn well I guess, and it paid off. Someday I'd like to build my own house."
"I've always wanted to own a house," Arlene said, the tentative smile had grown wider as she listened to Joe talk. "I never thought I would live anywhere except that crummy apartment. If I never own a house I guess that would be fine with me, as long as I never have to live in that dump again."
Joe was nodding his head as she finished speaking. "I know what you mean. I had a crummy little apartment in Watertown, New York. I used to take all the overtime I could get, so I wouldn't have to go back to it too soon. I really hated it, I mean totally. I saved a lot of money, not that it would do me any good now, but I had this dream of buying some land and building my own house. When this is over that's what I would like to do. Just find a nice place and build a house. Maybe have some cows, I don't know much about cows, but I could learn. I guess that sounds kind of stupid, but it really is what I want to do, and if I make it through this in one piece, I'm going to."
"It doesn't sound stupid to me at all," Arlene said, "in fact it sounds like a good plan, a good dream to hold on to. I've never dared to dream. I guess you know what I did for a living. Women like me don't have many dreams, and if we do they die pretty quickly. I'm not making any excuses, and I'm not really ashamed of how I lived. I really didn't have many choices. It seems now though as if I do. I guess now its okay to dream. You think?"
"I think so," Joe agreed. "I mean if you can't dream, what's the use, right?" she nodded her head as if to say yes, before he continued. "I believe in God, Arlene. I mean I saw him, and... Well, for me that made up my mind that there could still be hope. I guess I always did believe, not like a fanatic or anything, I always thought that was a lot of bull. But more like just trying to not hurt people. Even if they used or hurt me. Harm no one that is how I try to live my life. I guess it's like, I live my life, and you live your life. You believe what you want, and I'll believe what I want. You see?"
"I do," Arlene said. "I guess I'm sort of the same way. A lot of the girls I used to work with thought I was nuts too, you know, to even think I was worth something. I guess I do believe, and probably always did. I just never admitted it to myself. I always tried to live without hurting people. I was getting pretty bitter though, I have to admit. I just saw too much that didn't make any sense to me, and I could never understand why, if there was a God, he would let so much bad exist. I guess though, if people want it it's going to be there. People thought I was bad, but I never really dared to look at myself. I guess I was bad, to a certain extent, but what was I supposed to do?" she seemed pensive.
"I had family, but...well, you know I guess. I don't want to get into that. Suffice to say I couldn't be with them. So I was on the street, and I had to live. I prayed. I prayed a lot, but God never seemed to hear me. I guess I just gave up. I lost a lot of friends on the streets. It's sort of like a family, I don't know if you can understand that, or not, but it is. We all tried to watch out for one another, but it didn't always help. When you live your life that way, you can't expect to get any help from the cops either. I guess I just tried to stay alive from day to day." She had lost her smile as she spoke, replacing it with a wistful pursing of her lips and a sadness that sat deeply within her eyes.
Joe nodded his head and they both fell silent for a few seconds.
"Arlene," Joe said. "It really doesn't matter anymore. I'm the last guy who would ever think of judging you. Believe me. I've screwed my life up so many times it's not funny. As far as I'm concerned what you did, you had to do. It doesn't make you a bad person at all, and it doesn't have any bearing on who you are now. I mean that sincerely."
Now it was her turn to nod her head. She hadn't realized it, but his opinion mattered to her, and what he said allowed the small smile to re-surface on her face. She had told herself that she didn't care what he thought about her, but she knew even as she told herself that, that she was wrong. It did matter. It mattered a great deal.
They walked together to the back of the garage, and pushed up the steel overhead door. It took a few minutes to move a couple of the cars out of the way, so that they could drive the pickup out of the garage and into the lot behind the dealership.
Joe drove the truck across the grassy back lot, and stopped at the rear of a gas station to look for a state map. Arlene followed him into the deserted station.
She filled a paper bag with some groceries, mostly canned goods, while Joe opened the map and studied it on the counter at the front of the station.
"Looks like the best way out," Joe said, "Is still going to be 90. We should be able to skirt around most of the traffic, shouldn't we?"
"Believe it or not, I don't really know," Arlene answered. "I mean I live here, or did, but I didn't get out of the city at all, or hardly ever, so I don't know what its’ like."
She paused and looked at Joe as he bent over the map. He smiled as he spoke.
"I actually understand that," he said. "I didn't really know a lot about getting around outside of Watertown. I guess you learn how to get to the places you need to get to, and that's about it. No real big deal though. According to the map there are a lot of loops, sort of side roads that go around, and run parallel to 90, and hey, we've got four wheel drive, we can cut through the fields if we have to, right?"
Arlene shrugged her shoulders, as she replied. "I guess?" The attempt at humor was not lost on her, and she flashed a smile at him as she shrugged her shoulders again. "I guess if the cows don't mind."
Joe grinned back, and they both laughed a little as they walked back out to the truck.
"You know," Joe said as they climbed into the cab of the truck, "we should stop and pick up a couple of sleeping bags, and maybe a tent too. We still need to pick up a couple of rifles as well." He didn't want to alarm her, or make her start to worry, by bringing the subject up once more, but the truth was that he was fairly worried himself. If there were armed people running around killing whoever they chose too, it would be kind of stupid, he thought, not to have weapons. Arlene had the pistol, but Joe wasn't sure it would d
o a lot of good. She surprised him when she not only agreed, but didn't seem to lose her smile when she did.
"I think it would be stupid not to carry a rifle," she said, echoing Joe's thoughts, "you know much about them?"
"Not really," Joe confessed, "I've never even shot a rifle, you know, just never learned, I guess, or even wanted to. I think I could learn though. You know anything about them?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I do. At least a little. Not from shooting one, but more from seeing them. There are a lot of pawn shops on Beechwood, sort of goes with the territory, I guess. That's where I got this," she said, holding up the small pistol, "there has to be a sports shop out here somewhere." Almost as she spoke Joe spotted one across the crowded interstate.
"There is one," Joe said as he pointed.
They left the truck beside the stalled traffic, and walked through and around the cars to the large shop. They spent the better part of the afternoon outfitting themselves from the racks in the shop and carrying what they needed across the road to the truck. The pickup had a black vinyl bed cover. They opened it, stored the tent and the sleeping bags along with the other camping gear inside it, and then snapped the cover back into place.
"It probably won't keep everything totally dry," Joe said, "if it rains, I mean. This is kind of more for show than actual protection," he said indicating the cover. "But, it should still do all right."
They had both picked up weapons in the shop. Joe had picked out a deer rifle, a fairly impressive looking Remington. He had also picked up several boxes of the ammunition the rifle took. Arlene had settled on an entirely different sort of weapon. It looked more like a machine gun of some sort to Joe, and she also picked up several boxes of ammunition for it, and several spare clips. She explained to him that it really wasn't a rifle, but a machine pistol, and that it could fire better than seventy rounds a second if it were converted to full automatic. This one wasn't she said, but she had seen some that were. To Joe it still looked like a machine gun, and he joked that the sight of it alone would probably scare anyone off.
By the time they had loaded the truck and gotten under way it was late afternoon. Even with the late start, and the slow going due to the traffic, they managed to make it to Lake Easton in the Snoqualmie National Forest preserve, before night-fall.
The elevation had been rising all day as they climbed through first the foothills, and then the mountains of the Cascade Range.
Joe angled the truck off to the side of the grassy median they had been traveling, and followed a dirt road into the heavily forested park area. About a half mile in they came to a wide calm lake. The area was completely deserted. No cars, no trucks, and only a few empty, rustic buildings close by the water. They worked together to gather some dead-fall to build a small fire.
Arlene piled the dry wood next to a large stone fireplace, and Joe carefully arranged some of the wood inside the fireplace, over some smaller twigs and crumpled pieces of paper, while Arlene opened the rear of the truck and pulled out the sleeping bags, as well as some metal camp utensils they had picked up earlier. They debated on leaving the tent, but decided to set it up instead, close to the fireplace. The buildings were dark and deserted-looking, and not the least bit inviting to either of them. The tent would not offer anywhere near as much protection as the empty buildings, but to them it was much more appealing.
Once Joe got the fire going he began to set up the tent as Arlene started dinner.
"What are you making?" Joe asked, as he walked back to the fireplace.
A large steel pot sat directly over the metal grating of the outdoor fireplace, and the aroma from it was all he could smell as he finished setting up the tent. His stomach was growling.
"Well," she asked, "how does it smell?"
"Pretty damn good," Joe replied, "in fact about the best thing I've smelled in a long time. I mean I lived alone, strictly fast food. Burgers, tacos, you know. What is it?" he asked again.
"Well, it's nothing great, beans and corned beef," she looked at him and shrugged her shoulders as if to say, who knows? "Smells good though, huh?"
Joe nodded his head in agreement, and said aloud. "It's got fast food beat, that's for sure... It's going to be a few minutes, right?" Joe asked.
"Probably more like an hour," she replied, "why?"
"Well," Joe said, "that lake looks pretty good. I'm thinking seriously about jumping in it and washing some of this road grime off."
Before he could say more Arlene jumped up and said, "Race ya!" Joe stood dumb founded as she raced away towards the lake.
He caught up with her next to the water, slightly out of breath, and laughing. When she started to remove her clothes, he nearly choked on the laughter though. Arlene seemed not to notice, and after she had stripped down to her bra and panties she dove gracefully into the water and swam out into the lake, toward a wooden raft that was anchored about fifty feet off shore.
Joe got over his initial shock, stripped down to his briefs, and also dove into the water. The coldness of the water shocked him, but it helped in a way to. He hadn't realized just how beautiful she was, and his body had begun unconsciously to respond. The cold water ended that though, and he turned over on his back and floated as he kicked with his feet towards the raft. When he turned back over as he sensed he was nearing the raft he saw her sitting, looking back at him as he swam towards her. She smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back. Cold water or not, he thought, she is a beautiful woman.
He had guessed she must be in her late thirties when he had met her, but now he thought he might be wrong. Maybe it had been the dingy apartment building, which had contributed to his observation. Whatever it had been, he was pretty sure he was wrong. She looked like maybe she was only in her late twenties, maybe, he thought, only a few years older than I am. It was more the way she looked now, he realized, that made him think she was probably a lot younger than he had initially thought.
In the apartment building, she had been wary and tired-looking. She seemed more alive to him now though, and the smile went a long way towards smoothing out the lines that had seemed to be embedded in her forehead. He supposed that to her he must seem awful young at twenty two, maybe even immature, and he hoped that she had not seen what he had dove into the water to hide. The few women he had gone out with in Watertown had been much younger than himself, girls really. Either just at the end of their teens, or barely into their twenties as he himself was.
This was the first time he had spent any length of time around a woman, he realized, and it was a drastic change from the heavily made up, and sulky girls he had known in Watertown. He wondered for a second if there was anything serious between her and Frank Morgan, and just as quickly banished the thought from his head. What the hell would she see in me? He wondered.
Arlene sat on the wooden surface of the small raft and watched Joe turn back over on his back, as he continued to float towards the raft.
The Incident on the beach had not been lost on her at all, and in truth she felt embarrassed about it. Oh good, Arlene, she told herself, act like a slut, real smart. She found herself wishing she had let him finish what he was saying back at the fireplace. She assumed now that he had probably been going to suggest that they go in the water separately. But she hadn't given that scenario any thought at all. Real, real stupid, she told herself, if there was a chance that he would like you, you blew it.
She had liked Joe almost from the first. When he had convinced her to open the door it had been a big deal to her. It was something she would normally never do at all, under any circumstances. But, nevertheless, she had opened the door. He seemed honest, she told herself, and reminded her of herself. She had started life honest anyway, it was just that she couldn't be as honest as she wanted too, she reminded herself. Life was just that way, she decided. She also wondered what he thought of her and Frank. She had gotten the impression that he thought they were more than just friends, and in truth they were hardly even friends. Not in the tru
e sense of the word anyway.
Frank had come to her to help with the children. The never ending stream of runaways, that seemed to turn up on the avenue, when all their other options had not panned out. She had always done what she could, long before Frank came along, as she had run away from home for many of the same reasons that a lot of the kids who turned up on the avenue did, and it was pretty obvious where she had ended up. But as hard as she tried they didn't always listen. Frank had helped a great deal with money, but beyond that, and his seemingly genuine need to help, she really didn't know much about him. Joe was the first man, young man, she corrected herself, that she could ever remember who had not spoken down to her. Even Frank, though she was sure he didn't realize it, spoke down to her.
With Frank it really hadn't bothered her that much though, she was what she was, she thought, and Frank simply reacted to it.
Joe however was different. She knew it was stupid. At twenty nine she had to be at least eight or nine years older than him, and, she reminded herself, there is no such thing as love at first sight, but it sure felt that way. She just hoped it could be that way. Although she had taken many men to her bed in the dingy apartment, she had never, she felt, made love in her entire life, and she wondered what it would be like.
As Joe swam towards her she wondered, not knowing he was thinking similarly, if he could be interested in her. She knew she was attractive, but attractive to him? And, was this an okay thing to be thinking? But what exactly was she thinking? She wondered.
Joe flipped back over as he neared the raft, grabbed the side and slipped out of the water. He was still embarrassed, but was sure she hadn't seen. She would have said something right? He tried to convince himself that she would have, but in truth he had no idea, and, although he had just met her, he found himself drawn to her, and more than just physically. Was that possible? He wondered.
The Nation Chronicles: Book Two (The Nation Chronicles Trilogy 2) Page 8
