by Peter Darley
Sitting opposite Father Henry, Emily hungrily devoured a plate of bacon and eggs. “I really appreciate this,” she said.
“You have to go back,” he said. “You can’t just run away like this.”
“They locked me in my room. I don’t belong in the order any longer. I no longer believe in the church. I—” She paused as she prepared to say something so unthinkable she’d never dared even contemplate it before. “I don’t think I even believe in God any more. I have been so unhappy.”
“So, why did you take your vows?” he said with an objectionable tone.
She looked up from her plate fearfully. “It was all I had ever known. I didn’t know what else to do. I acted in error. Does the church not teach forgiveness and understanding?”
He exhaled and replied, “You’re right. It’s not my place to judge. But what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Find work, maybe. Try to survive.”
The sound of a car pulling up outside halted their conversation. Emily looked up sharply, having eaten the last of her breakfast.
Father Henry looked at her, and they held one another’s gaze with ominous knowingness.
Finally, he stood. “I have to tell them the truth. You know that, don’t you?”
Emily slowly got out of the chair and picked up her satchel.
Henry quickly opened up the cupboard above the sink and reached for a coffee tin. He took out five $10 bills and placed them on the table next to her. “This is all I have.”
She stared at the money in silence.
Henry exited the kitchen and walked into the church to see the bishop and Reverend Mother Bernadette coming toward him. The bishop’s deep-set, piercing gray eyes seemed almost accusatory as he came closer. “Your Grace. Reverend Mother.”
“Sister Veronica has fled,” the bishop said, wasting no time getting to the point.
“I know, Your Grace.”
The abbess’ eyes widened eagerly. “You’ve seen her?”
“She is here. She spent the night in the vestry’s cellar.”
“Oh, dear Lord. That poor, lost, precious soul.”
“Where is she?” The bishop said.
“She’s very fearful, Your Grace. I would advise the most delicate approach.”
“Where. Is. She?”
Father Henry turned reluctantly. “Follow me.”
Along the short journey across the aisle to the kitchen, Henry was seized with ambivalence. If Emily was still in the kitchen, he hoped she may be persuaded to return and find peace in the convent again. She had been such a wonderful and caring person throughout her life. The order and the community would suffer greatly at the loss of her.
However, the look of desperation in her eyes made him think that to force her to stay would be the worst of all cruelties.
He opened the kitchen door and noticed the money was gone. The room was empty and the door was open. He turned back to the bishop and the reverend mother. “She’s gone.”
***
“I can’t believe you bought this. You must be crazy,” Brandon said as he drove a shiny, jet-black Mercedes-Benz Sprinter toward the Utah border.
“It was a steal,” Tyler said. “Brand new, these babies go for forty-five gees. That dealer you told me to try in Aspen only wanted twenty-one. I’m telling you bro, I know a guy in Fort Worth who’d be willing to pay me thirty for it.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”
“I am right, so quit worrying. We’re going to Nevada, so let’s do it in style. Anyway, how’s the shoulder feeling?”
“It twinges occasionally, but it’s almost as good as new. Just needed some time, is all.”
Belinda sat comfortably on one the seats behind Brandon and Tyler, a linen veil blocking her view of the Turbo Swan in the rear. She smiled at the way in which Brandon and Tyler were so familiar with one another. It seemed so strange. In less than two years, Tyler had entered the game and developed this close, fraternal relationship with her man. A hidden drama had occurred, and she’d known nothing of it. “How do you think Emily’s gonna react to you guys when she sees you?” she said.
“I have no idea,” Tyler replied. “But we’ve got to meet her, let her know we’re alive, and that we care about her. After that, who knows?”
“Yeah, but if she’s a nun, she might be averse to having anything to do with anybody from the outside world. She may shun the two of you.”
“Nah. Why would you think that? They do missionary work.”
Belinda looked away with profound disquiet. “You’re right. I guess I just don’t have a very good opinion of religion.”
Brandon glanced behind at her. “It’s great to have you with us, baby, but I really don’t want you to get upset by this place.”
Tyler frowned. “When are you guys gonna tell me what this is all about?”
“That’s up to Belinda, Ty.”
“All right, time out, you guys,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m more concerned about someone recognizing Brandon.”
“I’ve done the research,” Tyler said. “There are no ‘Wanted’ posters out for him, and the shot of him on the TV when he escaped was his mug shot from two years ago—shaved head and terrible lighting. Even I had a time recognizing him. Look at him now. Shoulder-length hair and a few days growth on his puss. Totally different guy.”
A sense of uncertainty came over Belinda. “There was no mistaking what he looked like on our TV interview two years ago.”
“You said it. Two years ago. Folks have memories like sieves.” Tyler nudged Brandon playfully. “I remember it, though. You are one photogenic dude, you know that?”
Brandon brushed off his brother’s smartass remark and looked at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s coming up to five in the afternoon. We’re not gonna reach there by tonight, you know.”
“If we don’t, we don’t. We’ll just find somewhere to crash. I have a few possibilities in mind.”
“Wherever we stay, we’ve got to make sure it’s somewhere secure,” Brandon said. “No cheap shitholes. Not with the Turbo Swan in the back.”
“Are you kidding me?” Tyler said.
“Two years ago, Belinda and I stopped off at a rundown motel in Wyoming. We woke up the following morning to find that our van had been stolen in the night, along with the Turbo Swan, and all of our money in the back. It led to all hell being let loose.”
Tyler chuckled. “You honestly think I’d shack us up in a shithole?”
Brandon laughed finally. “You’ve got a point, there.”
They’d been on the road for over eight hours, with only two stops for food and restrooms. At nine o’clock in the evening, they pulled up at the Peppermill Wendover Hotel on the Utah/Nevada border. Brandon approached the hotel parking area, completely exhausted.
But Tyler was relentless. “It’s a casino hotel, bro. I’ll get us checked in, dress up like a high roller, and get down there. I thrash the hell out of them every time.”
“How about we get some goddamn sleep, Ty?” Brandon said with a hint of annoyance.
“OK, chill. You guys go to bed, have yourselves a party or whatever. Just keep your head down. We don’t want anyone making you. I’ll go play Blackjack for awhile. I’m too restless to sleep.”
“Just remember. We’ve got to be up early tomorrow.”
Tyler laughed. “I’m always up early. To take a leak.”
“All right. You do what you’ve gotta do. We’re turning in.”
“Yeah, you go for it, bro.”
Brandon gave his brother a slightly judgmental stare. “Hey, Ty, do you ever think about anything other than money?”
“Sure I do. I think about family. Money is power, and power is safety and security for that family. You with me?”
Brandon was quiet, feeling like a hypocrite. He knew, without Tyler, he would most likely be back in Leavenworth for life, and with no possibility of the future stability he hoped to create. For the first time in his life, he was wit
hin reach of a true family. Who was he to argue with the one who had enabled it all?
Regardless, Tyler did have a juvenile, devil-may-care attitude, and it presented the question of how seriously he was taking all of this.
Brandon drove up to a space in the indoor parking area. He and Belinda got out of the van with their travel bags in hand.
Tyler exited the van last and approached a patrolling, twenty-something parking attendant. “Hey there.”
“Hi, sir. Welcome to the Peppermill,” the young man said.
Tyler pointed to the Sprinter. “Listen, I wanna make sure that van over there gets touched by nobody, know what I mean?”
“Sir, we operate the highest security here in order to ensure the safety of our guests and their property.”
“Of course you do.” Tyler reached into his inside pocket and took out a $100 bill. “But I don’t want it to go unappreciated. What’s your name?”
“Zak, sir. Zak Potter.”
“Well, Zak. I just bought that monster over there, and she’s my pride and joy. You make sure she’s still there in the morning, and there’s another five of these babies in it for you.”
Zak smiled at him appreciatively and took the money. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you at around eight tomorrow morning, all right?”
The elated attendant nodded his eager affirmation.
Tyler smiled and made his way back to the van.
“OK. We all set?” Brandon said, pulling a baseball cap low across his forehead.
“Sure are.”
As they walked across the parking lot toward the hotel foyer, Brandon kept himself behind Belinda and Tyler. Neither of them seemed to notice as he secretly withdrew a small bottle of gin from his jacket pocket.
Fourteen
The Middle of Nowhere
By 8:30 the following morning, Brandon, Belinda, and Tyler were on the road again. Tyler was a little disappointed that his hour of indulgence in the casino had only netted him $700.
He noticed Brandon wasn’t himself, which was apparent from the unfocused look in his eyes as he drove onto the desert road. Even his skin had taken on an unusual pallor. “Hey, bro. You feeling all right? You don’t look so sharp?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Brandon’s voice was notably weak and lethargic. Something was clearly wrong.
“You sure?”
“Just haven’t woken up yet.” Changing the subject, he said, “So, what’d you win last night?”
“Not good. Seven hundred.”
“That’s bad?”
“Yeah, well, I guess it paid off Zak.”
“Who?”
“Zak. You know? The parking attendant guy.”
“You seriously gave the parking attendant seven hundred dollars?”
“Six actually, and it was worth every penny for him to pay extra-special attention to the van. How much is the Turbo Swan worth?”
Brandon was quiet for a moment as he calculated the monetary value of a machine that couldn’t really be quantified. “It’s completely unique. There’s nothing on it you’ll find anywhere else. The experimental, bonded titanium shell, the engines I put together, the internal electronics, a shit load of man hours . . . Maybe a few million dollars.”
Tyler raised his hands in vindication. “So, I rest my case. Six hundred bucks to a needy kid to keep an eye on it has got to be the bargain of the century.”
Belinda took in the desert scenery around her. The sun was bright, and it was becoming warmer the farther they drove into Nevada. Having never seen this part of America before, she was amazed by how different it looked from Colorado or Massachusetts, where she’d grown up. To her eyes, it seemed more like another planet, much less the same country.
The van suddenly jolted to the right and the tires screeched, with all three passengers startled witless by the shock. Brandon struggled to hold the vehicle steady, but the steering wheel was torn out of his hand. The two left side wheels left the surface. The van slid forward, half on the right side wheels, and half on the chassis perched on a ditch, producing a shower of sparks.
“We’ve got a blowout,” Brandon said.
“What’s happening?” Belinda yelled.
“I can’t hold it!”
He pressed his foot to the brakes, slowing the right-side wheel. Gradually, the van decelerated to a standstill.
They sat for a moment, considerably shaken. Brandon appeared suddenly awake, opened his door, and looked down the dusty edge.
“I’ll go take a look,” Tyler said.
Belinda jumped down onto the road and walked around to the other side with Tyler.
After a moment, they peered inside the van. “We’re screwed,” Tyler said. “The left front tire’s blown, and half the van is hanging off the edge. There’s no way we’re gonna get it back onto the road.”
Brandon rubbed his face, nodding despondently. “Figured as much.”
“I’ll call the auto club.” Tyler took out his android phone and selected the auto club contact, but it didn’t ring out. He looked at the screen and exhaled. “Damn. No signal. We’re in a dead zone. How about the Turbo Swan?”
“Life and death only,” Brandon said. “We fly that out of here, it’s gonna be seen. It’s got an ascension height of a hundred-fifty feet, max. It’d be like writing our names in the air.”
“So, what are we gonna do?”
Brandon pushed the door open and jumped down, spending a few moments looking around him. Belinda followed his gaze. There was nothing in sight. No stores, houses, gas stations, or establishments of any kind. It was just miles of desert for as far as the eye could see.
“So, I guess that’s it,” Brandon said hopelessly. “We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere.” He leaned against the vehicle and rested his head against his elbow.
Belinda said, “Look, why don’t we wave a few cars down, see if anyone’ll give us a ride to a garage?”
Tyler concurred. “That’s as good an idea as any.”
Without a word, Brandon walked around the van again aimlessly. Trance-like, he jumped down the ditch and walked back to the driver’s side. He knew what would help him endure his plight. Deep inside, he was aware there was a serious problem in him even contemplating what he was going to do, but he couldn’t help himself. The urge was so very strong.
After climbing back up onto the seat, he reached underneath and pulled out a hidden shoulder bag. He felt around inside, quickly found a bottle of vodka, and pushed the bag back. Obsessively, he unscrewed the bottle top, and put the rim to his mouth.
Only four cars had driven past Tyler and Belinda during the first hour. Nobody had stopped and the heat was becoming oppressive.
“Looks like the milk o’ human kindness just dried up at the tit,” Tyler said, frustrated.
Belinda giggled. “You have a terrific way with words, Ty.”
“It’s a gift. You think Brandon’s all right?”
“He’s . . . I don’t think he’s doing too well.”
“Yeah, well, I’d have thought he’d at least help us out here.”
“I think he’s developed a real problem dealing with stress. I think we should just let him be for now.”
They watched eagerly as a beat up station wagon came closer toward them from the horizon. They waited for a few minutes until the car was virtually on top of them. A scruffy young man in a checked shirt looked out the window as he slowed to a crawl. And then he sped up again.
“Hey!” Tyler cried out, but it was futile.
Belinda looked at him with the same feeling of outrage. “What an asshole.”
Another thirty minutes passed, along with three more cars, shattering their hopes even further.
And then the perfect chance appeared in the distance.
“Is that what I think it is?” Tyler said.
“You know what? I think it is.”
As the vehicle came closer, they could see it was a worn tow truck with a crane and
hook.
“Oh, my God. This is it.” Tyler stepped out into the middle of the road and waved his hands for the truck to stop. Belinda immediately joined him with the same eagerness.
The truck slowed to a stop. A gruff, bearded man, who looked to be at least fifty, stepped out. “Hi, there. Need some help?”
Tyler approached him. “Sir, please, you’ve got to help us. Our front tire blew out, and we got launched off the damn road. Can you help us to lift the van off the edge of the verge? I’ll pay you.”
“I’m Earl,” the man said with a deep, gravel-like voice, and extended his hand to Tyler. “Now, don’t you worry about a damn thing. I’ll have that van of yours outta the ditch in no time.”
Tyler beamed. “Seriously?”
“Sure. C’mon. Let’s get the sumbitch hooked up.”
Tyler and Belinda gave one another a jubilant high-five.
“You ain’t seen much traffic out this way, I guess,” Earl said.
“Not much. And what we have seen has been about as much use as tits on a boar,” Tyler said.
Belinda turned away laughing at his deadpan way of making Texan, humorous statements.
They looked behind them as Brandon appeared. It was abundantly clear something was very wrong with him. His eyes seemed glazed and unfocused, and his demeanor looked particularly happy. “Hi, guys. Need some help?”
Earl replaced the shattered tire with the Sprinter’s spare. Belinda kept Earl entertained with her charms and a deliberately-revealed cleavage at the front of the van. It was imperative that the old guy didn’t get a glimpse of the military hardware in the back.
Finally, Earl slipped his crane-hook under the front tow bar of the Sprinter. Tyler sat behind the wheel of the van. The crane lifted the front of the van off the verge while he turned the steering wheel and Earl lowered the crane.
Brandon and Belinda watched, but Belinda couldn’t help noticing how unsteady Brandon was on his feet.
Once the van was down, three of the four wheels were back on the road with the left rear tire half perched on the verge. With one depression of the accelerator, Tyler brought it back up onto the road.
