“I get dreams like that sometimes, too,” Caroline agreed. “Now and then they seem even more real than life. And they often come true, too. But mom hates it when I tell her about them. She never wants to hear the future, even when it’s good. She says it creeps her out.”
Linder laughed. “It’s just the opposite with me,” he said. “I want to know the future whether it’s good or bad. Probably more when it’s bad. Because if I can’t change things, I want to prepare for them. So, tell me, have you had any special dreams lately?”
“Yes, and you were in one,” she answered. “From the moment I saw you outside our old apartment, I knew you were going to change things. And I think you already are.”
Linder gave an uneasy laugh. For an instant, he thought of telling Caroline about the dream that had led him to her mother, but decided against it.
“And how do you feel about that?” he asked her. Does it creep you out?”
Caroline shook her head and gave him a knowing smile.
* * *
In the days that followed, Linder stayed rent-free in Jay Becker’s spare room in return for keeping the apartment clean, handling household chores and cooking an occasional meal. This suited Linder quite well, as it enabled him to save more of his salary and kept him fully occupied during the evenings when Jay worked late. The two men grew closer week by week as Linder took on more responsibility at the plant and Jay came to rely on him to handle special assignments. All the while, Linder noticed a restless energy in Jay not unlike his own, and wondered whether Jay’s brief time in the camps might continue to haunt him.
Once or twice a week, Linder dropped by the 50th Street bungalow to visit Mrs. Unger. When he did, he sometimes crossed paths with Patricia, who greeted him politely but kept her distance. According to Mrs. Unger, Patricia took her work at the truck depot very seriously, paid off the back rent promptly to her former landlord, and caught up quickly on her rent payments to Mrs. Unger after receiving an unexpected promotion. Her life and that of Caroline had seemed to stabilize.
Though Linder remained determined to earn Patricia’s and Caroline’s trust, he took pains not to impose himself on them. Now and again, he would catch sight of mother and daughter together in town, and whenever he did, it took his entire force of will not to approach them. Before long, he came to realize that, though Patricia had rejected him long ago and later married two other men, he had still not shaken off his infatuation with her. He knew, however, that even with Roger Kendall missing and very likely dead, he had virtually no chance of winning her heart. The sad truth was that, once having decided to enter her life as Mormon Joe Tanner, he dared not confess it or she had every right to recoil from him in disgust, not only for his role in her capture, but for having opted twice to conceal it.
His penance, he reasoned, would be to follow Patricia at a distance and serve her as best he could. A week later, that service began in earnest. Early Wednesday evening, Mrs. Unger telephoned him to report that she had found an empty gin bottle hidden in the trash, and two other full ones cleverly secreted around the bungalow. Worse than the clear violation of the house rules, Patricia had risen late that morning, oozing alcohol from every pore, and had departed late for work. If it happened again, the landlady said, it was only a matter of time before others noticed it and Patricia’s job would be in jeopardy. While Mrs. Unger didn’t want to evict mother and daughter, she felt she must do something more than stand by while Patricia’s life careened out of control.
“Until now, have you noticed any other evidence that she’s been drinking?” Linder asked.
“Sometimes she comes home a bit wobbly or with liquor on her breath, but nothing scandalous,” the landlady replied. “And if she brought home any bottles before, she must have been a genius at hiding them.”
“Has anything happened lately to push her over the edge? Was there a fight with Caroline, or a problem at work?”
“No, but an envelope arrived in the mail yesterday from the Corrective Labor Administration,” Mrs. Unger went on. “She took it into her room to read it and when she came out, she seemed very upset and left the house for several hours. She didn’t return until just before Caroline’s bedtime and we were both very worried for her.”
“As you should be. Where is Patricia now?” Linder asked.
“She and Caroline are out grocery shopping. They’re due back any minute and I’m not sure quite what to do about it.”
“Would you like me to come over?” Linder offered. “After all, I introduced Patricia to you, so I feel responsible.”
“Nonsense, Patricia is a grown woman and she’s fully responsible for her own actions,” the landlady responded. “You’ve shown her and her daughter nothing but kindness ever since you found them. No, I just wanted you to know what’s going on. It’s up to me to take Patricia aside and warn her what will happen if I find another bottle. Frankly, I’ve also been considering taking Patricia to an AA meeting, if she’ll have it. Those people saved my late husband’s life, bless their hearts. Maybe they can help her, too.”
The next afternoon, Linder left work early to visit Mrs. Unger before Patricia and Caroline came home. Over coffee, the landlady reported that the warning had gone well, and that Patricia had promised not to bring any more alcohol into the house. But even more significantly, she had shared the reason for her drinking binge two nights earlier. The envelope from the CLA had contained a postcard sent to her former address in Coalville. The postcard was from her husband, who had been transferred some days earlier from the Yukon to the men’s division at Kamas. Though alive and well, Roger Kendall was now trapped inside a camp under siege.
Patricia had then gone on to tell Mrs. Unger of her own ordeal in the Kamas camp, and how she had managed to protect her daughter from the worst of the abuses there, but only because the DSS had singled them out for some kind of protected status.
The landlady was about to offer more detail when Patricia entered the kitchen, looking pale and exhausted. Her eyes seemed vacant and unfocused, as if her mind were far away. When Linder exchanged concerned looks with Mrs. Unger, the landlady’s eyes seemed to brim with tears at seeing Patricia in such a weakened state. To their relief, Caroline remained outside on the porch.
Patricia mumbled something to herself before apologizing for not having bought groceries on the way home.
“I’m not feeling very well just now,” she remarked. If you’ll excuse me, I think I might lie down for a bit.”
“Why don’t you let me pitch in?” Linder offered. “How can I be helpful?”
“If you really want to be useful, you could go with Caroline to the food store,” Patricia responded in a weary voice. “She has the shopping list.”
As Patricia left the kitchen, Mrs. Unger followed her out of the room with her eyes and bit her lower lip to avoid revealing the depth of her unease. A moment later, Caroline stepped into the room.
“There’s been a substitution in the lineup,” Linder announced in a cheery voice. “I’ll be filling in for your mother at the grocery store. Do you have the shopping list?”
Caroline brightened.
“Sure do,” she chirped. “I’ll get the money from Mom.”
“No, let her rest. She can pay me back later,” Linder answered, and led Caroline back outside. In truth, he looked forward to spending some time alone with Caroline. Though she could be sullen and irritable at times, when she was away from her mother, she seemed delightfully levelheaded and resilient for a girl of fourteen. As they passed out of view from the bungalow, Caroline slowed her pace and looked up at him.
“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
“Shoot,” he answered.
“How did you happen to be hanging around that day when our old landlord picked a fight with my mother over the rent?” Caroline inquired. “And why have you done so much to help us? I know my mom is good-looking and all that, and you’re both about the same age, but there’s got to be more to it. D
id you two maybe know each other from before?”
“Have you asked your mother that question?”
“Yes,” Caroline answered. “She told me to ask you.”
Linder smiled.
“Well, if your mom says it’s okay, I guess I can tell you,” Linder replied. “But you’ll have to promise not to tell anyone else. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely!” Caroline agreed.
“All right, then,” Linder began. “A long time ago, when your mother and I were around your age, we both lived in Cleveland and went to the same ballroom dance class after school. Whenever we had a choice of dance partners, I picked your mother and she chose me.”
He went on to describe how he had lost contact with Patricia when she left for boarding school and ended the story with their chance encounter at the dance in Concord. By that time they had reached Main Street and were only a couple of blocks from the food store. It was not yet dusk and, as the night was balmy, more people than usual were on the street. In a few minutes their conversation would no longer be private.
“Okay, then, so you two did know each other from before,” Caroline noted impatiently. “But how did you find us here?”
“Are you ready for a shocker?” Linder asked, stopping short of the curb.
“Go for it!” Caroline urged.
“About a month ago, I had one of those special dreams you and I talked about,” Linder confided in a low voice. “In that dream I saw your mother in some sort of classroom and got the sense that the place wasn’t very far away. So, I started searching in all the places I thought she might be. And the last place I looked was right here in Coalville. I found her looking exactly as she looked in my dream, right down to her blue jeans, white blouse, and ponytail ribbon. So, what do you think: ESP or coincidence?”
“Wow!” Caroline exclaimed. “Does Mom know about your dream?”
“Not really,” Linder answered with a sheepish smile. “I thought it might creep her out.”
Caroline threw her head back and laughed.
“It might if she heard it from you,” she said. “But would it be okay for me to tell her?”
“If you want,” Linder replied. “Just be sure the two of you are alone, okay? If anyone else knew, it might be kind of embarrassing.”
Caroline agreed and then suddenly fell silent. At that moment Linder offered Caroline his arm as they stepped off the curb to cross the street. She took it with a faraway look and released it on reaching the far curb. A moment later, the teen let out a deep sigh and spoke slowly, as if revealing something for the first time.
“When I was little, I remember how Mom used to be so calm and sweet and kind to everyone. Then, when Dad died and we had to leave Cleveland during the fighting, everything changed. Mom hated London from the moment we got off the plane, even though granddaddy was there to take care of us. That’s when she started to drink a lot. It got better when she met Roger, but then the drinking started up again and became even worse. When Roger asked her to stop, she just hid it from him.
“And then Roger started having problems at the bank and had to travel a lot. Around that time, we noticed men following us around and Roger said the way to fix everything was to make peace with the government and move back to Cleveland. But Mommy thought that was a terrible idea. So we all went to see Granddaddy in Beirut and that’s when everything really went to…”
Caroline’s voice broke and her walking slowed and Linder saw tears welling in her eyes, as if she were reliving the experience.
“I know, but that’s all finished now,” Linder interrupted. “You don’t need to think about it any more. Just leave it alone until you’re older. Right now you’ve got enough to do just growing up.”
“That’s what mom and my teachers keep telling me,” Caroline replied in a small, sad voice. “But I have to think about it sometimes or nothing makes sense. I mean, I know life is unfair, but why can’t it be unfair in my favor once in a while?”
Linder laughed and gave Caroline’s small hand a gentle squeeze. They were less than half a block from the grocery store.
“When you get the answer to that one, be sure to let me know. Now, is there anything else on your mind or shall we buy some food for dinner?”
“We can go in now, if you want,” she continued, though her thoughts did not yet seem settled.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s just that… Something’s not right about my mom any more.”
Linder stopped short. Not far ahead, shoppers were entering and leaving the store.
“Can you describe what’s not right?” he said.
“She promises to do things and then she forgets them,” Caroline answered. “And she hides things.”
Linder listened and nodded. It seemed that he and Sharon Unger had not been the only ones to notice the effects of Patricia’s drinking. But as neither was a blood relative, there was little they could do to help mother or daughter without Patricia’s consent.
“If there’s anything I can do to help…” he began before Caroline cut him short.
“Don’t,” she said wearily. “Don’t get close. She’ll only break your heart.”
S20
The greater danger for most lies not in setting our aims too high and falling short, but in setting them to low and achieving them. Michelangelo
FRIDAY, MID-JUNE, COALVILLE
The next morning, Larry Becker summoned Linder and his son Jay to the front office and closed the door behind him.
“Are you two yardbirds paying attention to what’s been going on in Kamas?” he demanded.
“I heard a rumor that the prisoners took over the camp and troops have cordoned the place off,” Jay replied. “I tried to get a look this morning but turned around when I saw the roadblock.”
“I’ve heard much the same,” Linder responded. “Why do you ask?”
“I hear it’s been a standoff all week and that talks have gone nowhere,” the factory owner replied. “It looks to me like the government is gearing up to send in troops.”
“Those boys know what they’re up against. I reckon they’ve decided to go down swinging rather than bend over one more time,” Jay commented.
“And that’s certainly their choice,” Larry agreed. “But it’s how a government assault would affect the rest of us that has me worried. Unless the prisoners settle, pretty soon all of Summit county will be crawling with troops, and along with them will come hordes of security men to round up parolees, dissidents, and anyone else they suspect might interfere with a siege or the cover-up afterward.”
“So what are we supposed to do about it?” Jay asked with a shrug. “We can’t pick up stakes every time there’s some kind of security flap in the neighborhood. We’ve got work to do.”
“Okay, then, here’s my question, and maybe Tom can answer it,” Larry went on. “How long do you suppose the prisoners can hold out? Or, more likely, how long before the DSS brings in armor to demolish the place?”
“No revolt on this scale has ever been seen in an American labor camp,” Linder observed. “Even the Soviets had only one or two camp-wide revolts and, as I recall, none of those was allowed to go on much more than a few weeks.”
“Okay, let’s assume it lasts a month. Why don’t the two of you hit the road for a couple weeks till this blows over? We could arrange for you to hole up in North Dakota, in friendly territory. Don’t worry about the packaging lines. Jose and I can manage those.”
“Ahh, Dad, I don’t know,” Jay demurred. “We’re buried in orders right now and we need the volume. I think this thing will blow over.”
“I see your point, Larry,” Linder agreed, “but right now isn’t a good time for me to go away, either. Why don’t we wait it out? If they bring in armor, it’ll arrive by rail and won’t be very easy to hide. Meanwhile, we’ll all keep our eyes open.”
While Linder appreciated the risk of being caught up in a security sweep, he felt uncomfortable about traveling on his st
olen Montana identity documents. So long as he remained in Coalville, he felt reasonably safe and expected sufficient advance warning of an assault on the camp to hide out in the surrounding mountains, if required. To travel further before he had made adequate preparations might be dangerous not only for him, but for Patricia and Caroline.
“Okay, fellas, have it your way,” Larry relented. “But at the first sign of trouble, I want you out of here, okay? I’ll be making a quick trip to Bismarck later this week and will set things up for you, just in case.”
* * *
On returning to Jay Becker’s apartment that evening, Linder sat down to draft a letter to his cousin Ruth that Larry could post from North Dakota. Several weeks had passed since Linder had heard from Ruth and the lack of news troubled him. While his initial messages had sought to learn of his sister’s condition without informing her of his escape, now he felt the need to reveal more of himself to her.
“Dear Ruth,” his letter began, “The time has come to inform my sister that I am alive and well. Please go to her and tell her in person that I ask forgiveness for the troubles I have caused her and will help as soon as I can. You and she must tell no one that I am alive and she must understand that she is being monitored at all times. Until I come for her, she is to watch and wait and find several locations near home or work where she and I can meet unobserved. I think of her always and will love her forever. Please continue to post your replies on the refugee locator board.
Signed/ Your Cousin
P.S. Burn this now.”
When the letter was sealed, Linder slipped it between the pages of a magazine and set the magazine aside. Then he opened a paper bag containing a boil-and-bite mouthguard kit and some women’s makeup that he had bought from a pharmacy in Park City and set to work creating a homemade dental prosthesis to alter his bite and jawline. Having been trained in the use of physical disguise and having employed it frequently in his undercover work, Linder was reasonably confident that he could deceive most live or photographic surveillance, as well as most facial recognition software, through the skillful application of makeup, eyewear, hairstyle, wardrobe and cosmetic dentistry, and could do the same for Jay, as well, if needed. So for the rest of the evening, he experimented before the bathroom mirror until he had mastered three alternative looks for himself that could be produced within minutes using his simple do-it-yourself kit.
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