by John Marrs
‘Thanks, Thelma, I’ll fire up the mystery machine – you go grab Scooby.’
‘Look, she’s left a bookmark on the page for Chicago and another one for Santa Monica in Los Angeles. It looks like the start and end point of Route 66.’
‘It’s a bloody long road; where will you begin?’
‘Where will I begin?’ asked Nicole, surprised. ‘It’s not I, it’s us. We’re in this together, my friend.’
Neither noticed Mrs Baker’s housekeeper standing behind them, her hands clasped and fingers tightly entwined, silently praying her panicked decision had been the correct one.
CHAPTER 56
TODAY
Tommy carried the chessboard and headed towards the cupboard where the boxes of board games were stored and became distracted by shrieking sounds behind Matty and Declan’s closed bedroom door.
He couldn’t resist placing an ear to it to hear what was causing the ruckus. But without warning, the door suddenly opened, causing Tommy to lose his balance and fall into a heap on the floor inside, chess pieces scattering across the threadbare carpet.
‘We have a guest, ladies,’ began Declan as Tommy looked up to find two Asian girls he didn’t recognise lying on beds and Matty and Declan wrapped only in towels. Tommy felt his cheeks blush and his hands sprang into action, scrambling around to grab the pieces to put back in the box.
‘Next time you can watch if you like!’ added Matty, while Tommy took the board and hurried out of the room.
With another successful humiliation under their belts, Tommy vowed to make it a priority to toss the two cuckoos out of his nest as soon as the opportunity arose.
And he wouldn’t have long to wait.
CHAPTER 57
Eric leaned back on his plastic chair by the hostel’s two coloured iMacs and blew cinnamon gum bubbles as Nicole scanned the computer screen.
Her eyes moved from the web pages to the notes she was frantically jotting in a notebook. Eric was bored – he cracked his knuckles, picked at a scab on his ankle, felt for rogue, protruding nostril hairs and glanced at Jake, sitting on a sofa reading a book about holistic health and yoga. He puzzled over where he recognised Jake from but couldn’t put his finger on it.
Suddenly Nicole slammed her pen down and threw her back against the chair.
‘Buffalo Springs Lake, Texas. That’s where we’re going,’ she began with a satisfied smile.
‘And how did you come to that conclusion?’ yawned Eric.
‘Okay, I’ll explain, but you need to concentrate. The clues are all in that song “American Pie”. Mrs Baker started singing it the last night I visited her and talking about sleeping in the back of the truck by a lake. She was telling me about her trip around America with her husband in 1971 on Route 66 – well, that was the year the song was released. According to Wikipedia the song is about, well at least in part, the singer Buddy Holly dying in a plane crash. That’s why Don Henley sings about “the day the music died”.’
‘Henley? You mean McLean.’
‘Whatever.’
‘But didn’t Buddy Holly die in the 1950s or something?’
‘Yes, but he was born in Lubbock, Texas. And which road goes through Lubbock, Texas? Route 66.’
‘That road goes through a lot of states, Nic, as you well know, because I drove through most of them to get to LA and I swear Lubbock was one of towns we passed.’
‘Will you just let me finish?’ Nicole replied, indignantly. ‘Read the lyrics. He talks about a pick-up truck and a driving a Chevy to the levee – what are we driving?’
‘A Chevy pick-up truck. But what’s a levee?’
‘It’s an embankment or flood bank that regulates water levels. And where would you find one of those?’
‘At a lake.’
‘Exactly, and where did I tell you Mrs Baker and her husband slept one night?’
‘At a lake?’
‘And near Lubbock, Texas, you’ll find Buffalo Springs Lake. The song also has references to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost and “having faith in God above”, and there are at least four churches there. He sings about “dancing in the gym” and there are ten schools in Lubbock by my reckoning. There’s a line, “I could make the people dance”, and there’s half a dozen dance studios. As for “The church bells were all broken”, well St Theresa’s church hasn’t had working bells since 1971. Plus Lubbock contains everything mentioned in the song – a courtroom, an American football team, they even have the All-Lubbock Marching Band Parade. A reference to The Jester? That’s Bob Dylan’s nickname, and he’s twice played Lubbock. Do you see how this all fits?’
Eric knew Nicole was desperately attempting to find clues in almost everything Don McLean recalled about small town life. But he kept it to himself that there were probably hundreds of other towns that might also fit the bill. And in the absence of any better suggestions, he nodded. But the more time he gave himself to think about it, the more he came around to agreeing Nicole could be on to something.
‘It’s roughly 1,200 miles from here,’ continued Nicole. ‘If we set off in the morning, we can be there in about a day.’
‘And what are we going to find when we get there?’
‘Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. But I have a gut feeling this is going to change everything for us.’
Nicole had no idea how right she was, but not in the way she hoped.
CHAPTER 58
DAY SEVEN
Ruth was unaware of the poppy seeds accumulating between her teeth as she tucked into a third cream cheese bagel.
She sat on a fold-up chair purchased from an outward bound store in Santa Monica, finished her breakfast and reached inside her bag for her knitting. No one had bothered to answer Zak’s intercom that morning, but Ruth was positive someone was inside the house as the patio doors were now closed and the CCTV camera quietly changed direction soon after she pressed the button. But a single-minded Ruth wasn’t easily dissuaded when she was so close to her goal, so she sat contentedly and continued to knit Zak’s jumper.
She noticed nobody seemed to walk in the Hollywood Hills, as no matter where she wandered – and it was never far from Zak’s house – she had yet to speak to another person. Even the uniformed Hispanic staff entering and leaving Zak’s neighbours’ homes used cars or vans.
Every couple of hours, Ruth made her way around the corner, squatted in a patch of bushes and relieved herself into an empty McDonald’s cup. And when the sun began to heat up the sidewalk, she pulled out a stripy parasol that came with the seat and stuck it into the grass verge.
And as the hours ticked past in her lonely public vigil, Ruth’s determination to meet Zak grew ever stronger.
THREE WEEKS EARLIER – VICTORIA, AUSTRALIA
Ruth nervously played with her hair as the glass elevator rose to the twenty-second floor of the plush apartment block.
The doors silently opened and she scanned the corridor for Number 223. She was skittish yet excited and knocked on the solid wooden door a little louder than she’d intended, so it echoed through the corridor. Inside, she heard footsteps on a tiled floor before it unlocked and her father answered, casually dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt that was too tight for a man of his age.
‘Hi, Dad,’ began Ruth with an eager smile. Phil looked at his daughter for the first time in almost three years; she was much heavier than he recalled, and it had aged her. She didn’t resemble either him or his bitter ex-wife.
‘I didn’t know you were coming over,’ he replied, flustered. He part closed the door behind him but didn’t move towards her.
‘I haven’t heard from you for a while and I wanted to say hi,’ continued Ruth, hopefully.
‘You really should’ve called first.’
‘I did, I left messages on your machine and at work and on your mobile phone.’
‘Oh, right. Okay, well I’ve been busy – you know how it is.’
Ruth nodded and smiled. ‘Can I come in?’
&nbs
p; ‘Um, it’s not really convenient right now, Ruth. Another time, maybe.’
‘Well I came to say goodbye. I’m going to America to—’
‘Okay, well, enjoy yourself,’ her father interrupted, smiling vacantly, and began to turn his back on her.
Ruth’s heart sank when she realised the father who swept in and out of her life on his terms was terminating their all-too-brief reconciliation. She’d imagined they might spend the afternoon together, catching up on each other’s news like old friends. He would ask questions about her job and she would tell him all about Zak and the competition she’d won. Then anger suddenly displaced the disappointment she felt, so she pushed open the door her father was trying to shut.
‘Aren’t you going to ask why I’m going to America?’ asked Ruth forcefully.
‘Ruth, I don’t have time for this. I’ll see you soon, I promise.’
‘Why don’t you want anything to do with me, Dad? What have I done wrong? I’m a good person, I really am.’
Phil took a bulging leather wallet from his pocket, removed a handful of dollars and handed them to her. ‘There, you don’t need anything from me now, right?’
Ruth couldn’t disguise how let down she felt. She swallowed hard and willed the tears forming in her eyes to go away.
Suddenly a small, sinewy South-East Asian girl, no more than two or three years of age, appeared by Phil’s waist.
‘Daddy, who’s this man?’ smiled the girl, and pressed her hand into his palm. Ruth’s mouth slowly fell open as her father struggled to find words.
‘Daddy,’ Ruth repeated.
‘It’s a girl . . . she’s a friend of mine, sunbeam,’ he replied.
‘Sunbeam,’ repeated Ruth, realising she’d been replaced.
‘Lucy, leave Daddy alone,’ a male voice said from behind the door as it opened further. ‘Who are you talking to . . . .? Oh, hi Ruth, how are you?’
Phil’s boyfriend Robert offered Ruth a superficial smile but she had no idea how to respond to the sight of her father’s replacement family, or the new sunbeam in his life. She stepped backwards towards the lift.
‘Ruth—’ began her father, but the lift door closed before Ruth heard anything else.
CHAPTER 59
Eric parked the truck at the hostel kerb, and Nicole and Tommy lifted suitcases into the flatbed and secured them with ropes.
Eric ignored both Tommy’s presence and assistance and remained in the truck fiddling with the radio, leaving Nicole to say goodbye.
‘Well,’ said Tommy, and smiled at Nicole.
‘Well,’ she replied and returned his smile.
‘Good luck with the rest of your trip.’
‘Thanks.’
Nicole wanted to tell Tommy that in different circumstances, she would have returned his kiss and that the burden of a secret she couldn’t reveal would always get in their way. But both were aware their moment had passed.
‘I’ve sent you a friend request on Facebook,’ Nicole continued, ‘so we can stay in touch if you like?’
‘That’d be good.’
Tommy stretched his hand out awkwardly to shake Nicole’s; instead she hugged him and gave him a peck on the cheek until an impatient Eric honked the horn.
As the truck pulled away, Tommy felt a little envious of Nicole’s next adventure, even though she’d been cagey about what it involved or where she was going. But while he’d enjoyed her company, he was also looking forward to spending more time with Jake and learning more of the world by living vicariously through his anecdotes.
Jake had encourage Tommy to consider whether it was time to throw the security blanket of the Venice Beach International Hostel to one side and experience more of America by himself. However, when he gave it proper thought, he knew he was too scared, and too broke, to do it alone.
And it would take the actions of his past and present colliding before he could ever move forward.
CHAPTER 60
‘Over there,’ began Nicole, pointing to a greenish verge with a panoramic view further up the highway.
Eric pulled the indicator lever down and the truck ground to a halt by the side of the Arizona road.
‘What do you reckon?’ he asked, and turned to face Nicole.
‘Yes, this looks like a nice place.’
They exited the truck and stretched limbs that felt tight after seven and a half hours of continuous driving. Route 66 both ahead and behind them was silent and should’ve been straight as a die, had the sun’s incalescence not made it wobble like jelly. But the mainly barren landscape was pure picture-book America.
Eric lifted himself into the back of the truck to remove the cardboard box where Mrs Baker’s urn was stored. Then he followed Nicole as she walked towards a grassy knoll with a canyon-like drop below.
‘Hey, it’s Eric and Urn,’ Eric joked, and looked to Nicole for approval. She ignored him.
‘Didn’t Bridget ask why you wanted her mum’s ashes?’ she asked. ‘What kind of woman gives something so precious to a complete stranger?’
‘The kind who couldn’t care less, I suppose. People can be shits, Nic.’
‘I guess so. Okay, let’s do this.’
Eric passed Nicole the urn, and she tore off the tape that kept the lid firmly in place. Then she took a deep breath and began to shake the ashes into a light breeze and watched Mrs Baker make her final journey towards the snow-capped Mount Elden, beckoning from the distance.
‘Goodbye, Mrs Baker, and thank you for this opportunity,’ Nicole whispered, and smiled. Eric placed his arm around her shoulder and felt her head tilt towards him. After a few moments of silence, Nicole wiped away the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, carefully placed the empty urn on the ground and returned to the truck.
Eric waited a moment longer and absorbed the view of the arid landscape surrounding him.
‘Goodbye, Mother,’ he muttered, and spat on the ground where a small pile of ashes rested.
PART TWO – THE DEPARTURES
CHAPTER 1
DAY EIGHT
‘Come on, man,’ snapped an unusually competitive Peyk, ‘it’s an easy shot.’
‘No pressure, then,’ Tommy replied, and arched his back over the pool table, stretching his fingers over the black ball to knock the cue ball into the yellow. It glided into the pocket with ease.
‘Lucky,’ said Peyk dismissively, as the music in the hostel lounge became louder.
A group of Australian girls in their late teens scanned a TV screen, awaiting direction before frantically aping the animated dance steps flashing before them. Tommy resented the popularity of Matty and Declan’s stolen Xbox One, and that his adversaries had become the centre of attention because of their gift and vivacious personalities.
When one girl lost her balance and jostled Tommy, he missed his shot. Only her apologetic smile stopped him from snapping at her.
‘Which rules are we playing,’ Tommy asked, ‘American or European?’
‘What’s the difference?’ asked Peyk.
‘The biggest differences are that Americans don't play a lot of snooker or three-cushion billiards,’ interrupted Jake, potting his first, second, then third red with ease. ‘Americans mostly play 8-ball and 9-ball, along with some one-pocket or 14.1 straight pool.’
Tommy and Peyk looked at him and raised their eyebrows.
‘What? I’m more than just a pretty face, lads.’
When Jake missed the fourth red, he passed the only cue to Sadie, the receptionist. Tommy leaned against the wall, his eyes darting between Jake and one of the amateur dancers who was offering him kittenish glances.
‘If this was snooker, would you be going for the pink or the brown?’ whispered Peyk, clearly amused with himself.
‘What?’ Tommy replied, thrown off guard.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘If I do, then you are way off.’
Peyk shrugged and turned to take his shot. Suddenly the booming bass of a familiar pop song
blasting from the TV interrupted their game.
‘Hey!’ yelled Tommy. ‘Turn that off.’
‘Why should I?’ the Australian girl yelled indignantly.
‘Because I said so,’ replied Tommy angrily. ‘Now!’
‘Don’t talk to her like that,’ warned Declan, who stood by the window with Matty.
‘Mind your own business.’
‘What did you say?’ Declan continued, walking towards Tommy with shoulders squared.
‘Leave it, Dec,’ said Matty.
The girl turned the song off and abandoned the game, as the others in the room glared at Tommy, surprised by his uncharacteristic aggression. He looked at the faces staring at him, then he walked out of the room, unaware Jake had slipped out moments earlier.
THREE AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER, LONDON
The cork from the champagne bottle flew through the air like a bullet and rebounded off a polystyrene ceiling panel in the restaurant at the TV studios.
A DJ in the corner of the room mixed James Brown’s ‘Get Up (I Feel Like Being A) Sex Machine’ into Prince’s ‘Gett Off’ as Stuart left the makeshift dance floor and helped himself to a glass of cheap fizz from a waitress’s tray. It wasn’t the obvious location for Star People’s wrap party, but as the floor manager pointed out, the budget had been blown on the series finale’s pyrotechnics, choirs, backdrops and staging. And creator Geri Garland held her purse strings tightly.
All eyes were on each member of winners Lightning Strikes. The others boys were well on their way towards intoxication, but Stuart preferred the control that sobriety brought. He watched, with a touch of envy, as families hugged their winning offspring and clenched their hands with affectionate pride. Competition-winning fans interrupted them for selfies, and celebrity guests vied for their attention.
