The Faithful

by S. M. Freedman

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  Both men turned to look at me—Sumner with deep understanding, Josh with even deeper denial.

  “I’m sure there’s nothing, Ryanne,” Josh said.

  But Sumner was looking at me like I was a puzzle that needed sorting out. “What do you do for a living?” he asked.

  “I’m a scientist,” I said. “I work as a space data analyst for LINEAR’s Spaceguard Program. I collect, analyze, and classify data on Near Earth Objects by using ground-based, electro-optical, deep-space surveillance telescopes.”

  Sumner’s eyes grew bigger. “You lost me after scientist.”

  “I look for big bad asteroids that want to crash into Earth.”

  There was an extended silence while both of them contemplated this.

  “So, you work for NASA?” Sumner asked.

  “In a roundabout way, yes. We receive funding from a number of different sources, but NASA and the US Air Force are the two biggies.”

  “US Air Force?” Sumner mused. “Maybe it’s something to do with that? I mean, I Fidele is definitely planning some kind of attack. Maybe it has something to do with either using the Air Force . . . or wiping them out? Destroying the planes?”

  Josh looked at him skeptically, and Sumner shrugged. “I’m just spitballing here.”

  Josh shook his head. “I can’t see Ryanne as part of a plot to steal military planes . . . or destroy them . . . or whatever.”

  “I couldn’t see myself as part of a kidnapping ring either,” Sumner countered.

  “Son, I think it’s time you turn yourself in to the authorities.” Josh’s mom had crept out of the bedroom. She was wearing the nightie I had given her. Her white hair, tucked into a complimentary bathing cap, was falling out in cotton-candy wisps around her neck.

  She had Josh’s very large and unwieldy gun aimed at Sumner’s head.

  Sumner jumped as if he’d been goosed and stuck his hands in the air. “Holy shit, it’s Annie Oakley!”

  “Mom!” Josh shouted.

  Josh approached his mother, his hands out in front of him. The gun was obviously too heavy for her; her hands were shaking trying to keep it aloft. I was worried she’d fire it by accident. Sumner must have been thinking the same thing. He was trying to back away without her noticing.

  “Mom, put the gun down,” Josh said.

  “Hang on, Annie!” said Sumner. “I’ll get you a deck of cards so you can show us your sharpshooting skills!”

  I didn’t think making fun of her was the smartest idea, under the circumstances.

  “Hold yourself still, young man, or I’ll shoot you right in the kisser!”

  “Who is this crazy old lady?”

  “I may be crazy, but I’m no kidnapper!” Her hands were trembling more by the second.

  “Mom, please. You need to put the gun down.”

  “Mrs. Metcalf, it’s not what you think,” I tried. “Please put the gun down so we can explain.”

  “There’s no need to explain anything, dear. I heard perfectly well what this baby snatcher was trying to convince you to do. Although stealing one of those warplanes seems a bit far-fetched. Who’s going to fly it?”

  “Wow,” Sumner said.

  “Mom, I think you’ve misunderstood.”

  “And you!” The gun made an erratic swoop, and all of us screamed and ducked. “I’m terribly disappointed in you, Joshua. In my day, if you got a girl in trouble you married her.”

  “Oh wow,” Sumner wheezed. “I’m on a twisted version of Three’s Company.”

  “Mrs. Metcalf—”

  “Now just you hush, dear. I’m sure my son will do right by you. He’s a good boy, and he’ll make a good father.”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Mom! Ryanne’s not pregnant. Now please put the gun down before somebody gets hurt.”

  “What do you mean, she’s not pregnant? I heard her in the bathroom!” She turned back to Sumner with another sweep of the gun. Once again, we all screamed and ducked. “Are you dealing in the black market? What did you do with the baby?”

  “I think the dingo ate the baby!”

  “Sumner!” I choked out. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Mom, I promise I’ll explain everything. Just put down the gun,” Josh implored.

  “Oh, phooey.” She turned to Josh. “Here!”

  I think she was trying to hand the gun over, but instead she fired it. The lamp beside Sumner exploded. A second later we all hit the deck.

  “Holy shit!” Sumner squawked.

  “Oops,” Mrs. Metcalf said.

  We made a hasty exodus from the Four Seasons and regrouped at a waffle shop on 10th Street. We feasted on platters of waffles and fried chicken, steak and eggs, biscuits and grits, and gallons of much-needed coffee while Sumner told us about Ora, Lexy, and Phoenix.

  To her credit, Mrs. Metcalf sat silently through breakfast, quite contrite after the murder of the lamp.

  When Sumner told us about Jack Barbetti, I could feel the stir of excitement within my overfull belly.

  “I had that dream too!” I exclaimed. “Do you really think he’s alive?”

  Josh was looking at Sumner with equal amounts of hope and excitement.

  “Well, Ora did,” Sumner replied. “And I think she had a good point. Whether they’ll be able to find him at The Ranch and bring him out is another story.”

  “And you really think he was looking for us, Sumner?” I asked.

  “You in particular.” He pointed a forkful of chicken in my direction.

  “Why me?” I wondered out loud.

  “He seems to think you’re the key to everything.”

  All three pairs of eyes fixed on me with speculation. Well, Mrs. Metcalf seemed more confused than anything else, but who could blame her?

  “Well, then. I guess we know where we need to go,” Josh said.

  “Josh, isn’t there anyone in the FBI you can trust?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m sure most of the agents I know have no involvement, but how can I know which ones are clean? And this would be a big operation; FBI protocol would have to be followed. Which means my boss would be involved. I think we still need to stay under the radar. At least for now.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Sumner said. “Besides, me and Chicky are probably on their Most Wanted list by now.”

  “Who’s Chicky?” I asked, and Sumner patted the front of his pants and winked.

  I choked on a piece of waffle, and then took a closer look and realized he had a gun stuck into the waistband of his pants. He helpfully passed me a glass of water.

  It took Josh some time to convince Sumner to give up the red Camaro, but eventually he climbed into the passenger seat of the Suburban with a few choice words that made Mrs. Metcalf gasp. I leaned forward and patted Sumner’s shoulder.

  “He made me dump my yellow FJ, too. Fair warning, he doesn’t share the driving, he insists on eating health food, he doesn’t let you play music, and he won’t even play car games.”

  Sumner groaned and Josh gave me the gimlet eye in the rearview mirror.

  “He should know what he’s in for, bossy-boots.”

  I leaned back against the rear seat and watched the capital slip by outside my window. I had the strange sensation that rather than moving forward, we were tumbling back. Back to The Ranch. Back to a childhood I barely remembered and guessed might be a blessing to forget. Back to a little boy from Oregon who held the knowledge that might save the world.

  Back to the baby my aching body remembered nurturing beneath my heart, even if my mind did not. Back in time, twelve or thirteen years, to the beginning of that new life. The sun was streaming in the car windows, and I closed my eyes and sank beneath its gentle golden light.

  Eventuall
y, I dreamed. In the dream, there was a little bundle mewling beside my bed, and my breasts tingled and ached with engorgement. I lifted the swaddled form out of the bassinet and brought it to my breast. A late-day sun streamed through a crack in the curtains and golden light kissed the top of the baby’s head, setting the red fuzz aflame. I stroked the soft head and inhaled the smell of milk and warm, doughy flesh.

  They can’t make me forget you, I had vowed. One day I will return for you.

  I had broken the first promise. I wouldn’t break the second.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  “What are you doing up, Mom?” Josh asked as she slipped out of the bedroom she was sharing with Ryanne and closed the door quietly behind her. They had rented a two-bedroom suite at a Ramada Inn somewhere east of Chicago, and everyone had stumbled off to bed after a late dinner at the adjoining Denny’s. But Josh was feeling restless and twitchy, his dinner sitting heavy in his gut. “It’s two a.m. You should be asleep.”

  “So should you, Joshua.”

  Josh closed his laptop. “I couldn’t sleep.” He ran his hand across his rough beard. His eyes were burning from eleven hours behind the wheel.

  “You should have let the others drive a bit.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Can’t or won’t, I suppose it amounts to the same thing. Now, are you going to make your mother some tea?”

  “Of course.” He moved into the tiny kitchenette and plugged in the electric kettle. When the tea was ready, he sat down across from her and passed her a steaming mug.

  “I’m going to be dropping you in Elkhorn, Mom.”

  She smiled. “That’s nice, dear.”

  “I’m going to leave you with Phil Lagrudo. But you can’t contact any of your old friends, okay?”

  “Your father would be very proud of you, Joshua. Well, I suppose you know that. You always made him proud.”

  “Did you hear me, Mom?”

  “He was such a good man. We never wanted for anything, did we?”

  Josh gave up with a sigh. “No.”

  “Do you remember after you started your FBI training, how you flew us out to tour Quantico?”

  “Of course.”

  “And your dad got us on the wrong plane? We almost ended up in Washington State instead of Washington, DC!”

  Josh smiled. “And then you got lost looking for the White House, and I—”

  “Sent out a search party,” she finished.

  “Well, you’d been missing for six hours.”

  “Were we ever surprised when those armed men swooped in!”

  “They sent a bunch of newbies up from Quantico,” he laughed. “They used it as a tactical training exercise.”

  She was laughing too. “Where were we, again?”

  “Trinidad. Not exactly the safest neighborhood. You were in gang territory.”

  “Oh, that’s right. And your father said he hoped they’d scared some of those gangsters straight.” She was laughing and crying at the same time. “How I loved that man!”

  “I know, Mom. Me too.”

  “Even if he didn’t know his ass from his elbow!”

  “Mom!” Josh laughed.

  “Well, it’s true. He was a brilliant man, but he could get lost on the way to the grocery store.”

  “He was just easily distracted.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” She took a sip of tea, and then patted her damp eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown. “I was happy with him. He was kind and gentle, and he always put my needs above his own.” She looked up at him. “Follow his example, Joshua.”

  “What?”

  “When you get married. Be like your dad.”

  “Of course I will, Mom. If I ever do.”

  She eyed him for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about Jesse Simpson?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “He was my first beau. We dated all through high school, like you and that Marcy O’Donell girl. Oh, my, were we ever in love! Or at least, we thought we were. He played baseball. Handsome boy, looked like a young Paul Newman.”

  She took another sip of her tea, and continued. “Well, it was a couple years after high school. Jesse was working at the motor parts factory, and I was doing seamstress work. I kept waiting for his proposal. In those days folks got married young, and I was already feeling like an old biddy at twenty-one!” She laughed and shook her head. “But Jesse never could make up his mind about a damn thing, and it used to drive me batty. You might not believe it, but I was quite the pistol in those days.”

  Josh couldn’t help but smile. “You still are, Mom.”

  “I gave him an ultimatum. Told him he had one month to decide if he wanted to marry me. Then I met your father on day twenty-eight.”

  “Really. So what happened?”

  “George swept me off my feet. Not because he was handsome, which of course he was, and not because he was charming, which he was as well. He saw what he wanted and he went for it. I knew I could rely on him. That he would never let me down.” She gave Josh a tearful smile. “And I was right.”

  “What happened to Jesse?”

  She shrugged. “He was devastated by my betrayal, as he saw it. He joined the Marines a month later and he never came home. He died just before you were born.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Come on, Joshua. You’re a smart man.”

  He shook his head, but his gut was churning. “Mom, it’s complicated.”

  “No, dear. It’s not. Love is always simple; it’s people who add in the complications.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Oh yes. I do. Just because you’re a touch older and you and her mother were friendly? Are you going to let that matter?”

  “How did you know that?” he asked.

  “I’m not as foolish as I may sometimes seem. I know who she is. And I know love.” She leaned across the table and took his hand in hers. “I’ve seen the way the other one has been looking at her.”

  Josh nodded. He’d seen it too: the way Sumner’s eyes kept finding her when she wasn’t looking.

  “If you love her, then it’s time to go get her. Be like your father, Joshua.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  We left Chicago near dawn. Josh looked like he hadn’t gotten much sleep, and he was sullenly guzzling an enormous coffee. In the backseat, Sumner entertained me with stories and jokes. I found myself laughing far more than I should have, given the circumstances. At the first gas stop, I climbed into the front seat next to Josh.

  “Are you all right?” I asked quietly, in deference to his mom who had just climbed into the backseat, but was already snoring. He hadn’t said more than three words all morning.

  “I’m fine,” he said curtly, turning over the engine.

  “Sumner’s not back yet,” I said when he put the car in gear.

  “I know!”

  His mom stirred.

  “Shh. What’s the matter with you?”

  He rubbed both hands vigorously over his face. “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

  “Josh.” I put a gentle hand on his arm, but he jumped so I pulled it back. “I could drive for a bit.”

  He looked at me with that stubborn expression I’d grown to know so well, and then his face softened. “Are you doing okay?”

  I shrugged, taken aback by his gentleness. One minute he was as hard as a stone, the next he was as soft as a marshmallow. “I woke up without a headache this morning, so that’s good. But it’s a lot to take in, you know?”

  “I’m sure Sumner’s a big help with that. I mean, since he’s been going through similar stuff.”

  “I guess that’s true. He’s very funny.”

  He nodded and turned away from me, his jaw tightening.

  “Am I missing so
mething?”

  “Nope,” he said as Sumner opened the rear door and climbed into the Suburban.

  “Check this out!” He tossed a bag over my shoulder. “They have the best snacks at this place!”

  “Homegirls Potato Chips?” I asked, laughing.

  “Those are for you, homegirl,” Sumner said. “Don’t worry Josh, I found something for you, too.”

  “Ding Dong Mixed Nuts? Thanks.”

  “And check this out.” Sumner yanked off his shirt—causing Josh to turn a watchful eye to the rearview mirror—and pulled on a new one. He puffed out his chest, showing off a picture of a corn dog.

  “What would the corn dog do?” I read.

  He looked at me sternly. “It’s a valid question. Next time we’re facing some I Fidele crazies, ask yourself what the corn dog would do. I guarantee a corn dog will never steer you wrong.”

  “Okay, I will,” I said, giggling.

  “You know what?” Josh said suddenly. “I can’t drive anymore. Ryanne, will you take over for a few hours?”

  “Of course!” I said, startled.

  “Why don’t you grab some shut-eye,” Sumner suggested. “I’ll keep her company in the front.”

  “That would be great,” Josh said, although his tone was odd. He jumped out of the driver’s seat and climbed in beside his mother.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” I told him.

  “Wake me up if you see anything that doesn’t look right. Move over to the right before an exit every once in a while, and watch for cars that do the same behind you. Keep your eyes on your rear and wing mirrors at all times.”

  “Okay, boss. I’ve got it. Get some rest.”

  “Ryanne . . .”

  “What?”

  “I’m always here.”

  I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were serious and somehow sad. “Don’t worry. I’ll wake you up if I see anything unusual.”

  “Good.” He closed his eyes.

  We made it to Elkhorn by late morning, but had to wait a couple of hours for Phil Lagrudo to return home. By the time we saw him pulling into the driveway, both Josh and Sumner were so antsy they were bickering back and forth like a couple of four-year-olds.