American Heart

by Laura Moriarty

She used a napkin to wipe cream cheese from her lip. “So much better, thank you. I put in a few drops just now, but already I don’t need them as much.”

  I nodded. “Well. I may have more good news.”

  She was quiet as I described Tyler. I could tell she was anxious, or at least not sure. Her gaze moved across the ceiling.

  “We can wait if you want,” I said. “Or you can meet him yourself when we go downstairs. If you don’t like him, we’ll wait.”

  I meant it. I didn’t want this to be all on me. But it seemed to me anyone, man or woman, would be a risk. It was a matter of which one we wanted to take. And if we said yes to Wisconsin Tyler, it would be the last ride we’d need.

  She waited a while before she said anything.

  “In time for dinner?” she asked. Her voice cracked on the last word. She wouldn’t be having dinner with her family tonight, as they were way over in Toronto. But I knew she was thinking about them.

  I nodded. She nodded too, and that was that.

  By the time we got downstairs, Tyler already had his truck shoveled out, though snow was still falling on the roof and the hood, and also on the flat cover over the truck bed. He was still scraping the windshield when I went around the back with Chloe to get a picture of his license plate. His tailgate had some serious rust damage around the hinges, but his registration sticker was up-to-date, and he didn’t have any bumper stickers, worrisome or otherwise. I thought about getting in the backseat with Chloe, as it looked big and comfortable, like the backseat of a car. But Tyler’s duffel bag sat behind the driver’s seat, and also I didn’t want to be rude and make him feel like our chauffeur.

  He slid the scraper under his seat before he climbed in. “Everybody ready?” he asked, looking at me, then back at Chloe. He had on dark sunglasses now. “Buckled up?”

  Chloe didn’t answer, and he seemed fine with that. I’d already explained she was visiting from Portugal, and that she didn’t speak English. He hadn’t had any follow-up questions, on that subject or on any other. In fact, even after we got on the interstate, it seemed like I could have sat in the back without him even noticing. He didn’t say one word to me, and the only time he looked away from the road was to check the rearview.

  I supposed he was just focused, which made sense, given the weather. We passed the flashing lights of highway patrol pulled over next to a car crunched into the rumpled back end of another, and a blinking sign hanging from an overpass told us to WATCH FOR ICE. Still, after we got past the exits for Saint Paul and Minneapolis, and the traffic thinned again, it seemed like it’d be okay to talk.

  “We’ll be glad to give you gas money,” I said. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to ask for it.

  “That’s okay.” He glanced over his shoulder and turned on his blinker. “I’m making the drive anyway.”

  That was nice, I thought. Still, it seemed like everyone who’d given us a ride so far had a reason. Either Jesus had told them to pick us up, or they’d wanted to talk, or they wanted gas money, or they wanted somebody around to change the subject. The Amish people had just been quiet, but they still probably fell into the Jesus category.

  “Do you go to school in Wisconsin?” I asked. I knew I was tempting fate. I mean, if Wisconsin Tyler didn’t want to save my soul, or bring up Detroit, or talk to me about quilts for four hours, I could have just stayed quiet and thankful. But eventually, I was going to have to tell him that Chloe didn’t have any ID, and that I didn’t have a passport. I was thinking that it would be nice if we could have some kind of warm-up conversation first.

  He nodded. “UW.” He glanced at me. “Sorry. I like to concentrate when I drive. Nothing personal.”

  “No problem,” I said. I only felt dumb for a second. He’d said it wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t like he had on the stereo.

  But after a while, sitting there in the quiet, it occurred to me what might be really going on with him. A lot of his behavior would make sense if he had something illegal in the back of the truck, or even in his duffel bags.

  I know that might sound paranoid to a lot of people. But back when Tom lived with us, he’d sometimes beg my mom and us to come with him on these drives that for a while seemed pointless. We’d drive and drive, and then he’d run into somebody’s house real fast, leaving us in the car, and then we’d drive a little more, and he’d run into somebody else’s apartment, and we’d go on like that for a few hours. He called it visiting friends, but I knew something was up, as they were pretty quick visits, and even my mom stayed in the car. Or sometimes on a Saturday he’d get a phone call, and then as soon as he hung up he’d say, “Let’s all go down to Springfield. I’ll take y’all to the mall.” When we got there, he’d go off on his own for a while. One time after he came back, he gave me and Caleb two hundred dollars each to buy new school clothes, and then we all went to Applebee’s, and then bowling.

  So it wasn’t hard for me to put things together and get that Tom was making deliveries on these drives. What I couldn’t figure out was why he always wanted us to come along. So one day I just asked him. First he denied it, but when I didn’t let up, he said, “Okay, Sarah-Mary. Okay. Just don’t say anything to your brother.” He said he really did like our company, but he also said that if he had us with him, he didn’t fit the profile so much, and it was less likely he’d get pulled over. Or if he did get pulled over, the car might not be searched.

  I suppose that would sound pretty awful to most people, that Tom used us, his girlfriend and her two kids, as a cover for driving around with bags of weed. But Caleb never even knew what was happening, and as I said earlier, Tom was nice to us. So even if I should have been put out about the using thing, I wasn’t.

  And now I was remembering that whenever we went on one of those drives, Tom had been an especially careful driver. After a while, that was how I knew if he had something in the car. If he didn’t, he’d sometimes speed a little, or make a quick call from the highway, or turn up the radio loud and sing along with us when he liked the song. But other times, he was Mr. Follow-Every-Rule. We could talk, but he wouldn’t. Even if other cars were flying by us, he wouldn’t go over the speed limit, and no way would he get out his phone.

  I glanced over at Tyler. He was still wearing the sunglasses, but I could see his eyes from the side, steady and focused on the road. Obviously, if a person needed to sneak a bunch of marijuana somewhere, it probably wouldn’t be Canada. But he might be bringing in something else, something that was illegal there, too. And if he had two women in the car with him, one older than he was, and one younger, so much the better.

  I knew I might have it all wrong. There was a chance he was just a nice person who liked it quiet when he drove. In any case, I wasn’t about to start asking twenty questions, or let on at all about my theory. People were always forgetting to play dumb in movies—they’d tell the killer, I know you’re the killer!, usually while they were alone with the killer on the edge of a cliff, or in an abandoned barn with a scythe on the wall. Whenever I see a scene like that, I always think that if it were me, I’d tell the killer, Hmm, I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just kind of hungry. Want to go into town and get something to eat?

  I turned around to see that Chloe was asleep, or pretending to sleep, her head against her window, her hat pulled over her eyes. Tyler appeared content to just keep driving, which was exactly what we needed him to do. It seemed like for once I could just relax. I popped the earbuds out of Tess’s watch, slipped one in each ear, and settled in for an easy ride.

  North Dakota was a whole other new state for me—I took a picture of the Thank You for Visiting Minnesota sign, and also the Welcome to North Dakota—LEGENDARY sign so I could show Caleb later. But really, North Dakota didn’t look any different from what I’d seen of Minnesota. There weren’t any mountains, and the fields and trees and even the guardrails were covered in the same blinding white.

  When we stopped at a gas station just outside of Fargo, a line of cars was wa
iting for a mini-plow to clear snow from around the pumps.

  Tyler glanced at me. “Why don’t you two go on ahead and order your lunch here while I’m filling up. I’d like to be on the road again in about fifteen minutes. You can get something to go and eat in the truck.”

  “Sounds good,” I said. I got that he wasn’t really asking—he was telling us to get our lunch to go. I hustled out, waving to Chloe like I had to tell her she needed to hustle too. I was thinking she’d be happy that he was in such a hurry, as she probably didn’t want to spend an extra half hour hanging around a busy gas station that probably sold newspapers with her picture inside. But as soon as we were in the women’s bathroom, she grabbed my arm. Before she said anything, she pushed the button on the hand dryer so no one in the stalls could hear.

  “You have to tell him I don’t have the ID,” she whispered, getting out her ear drops. “We’re close to the border. If he doesn’t want to take me through, or he doesn’t know how, it is better if he leaves us here, by a city.”

  I nodded, looking down at the muddy slush on the bathroom’s floor. She was right. I couldn’t keep putting it off. But I still didn’t know what he would say. I’d been riding alongside him all these hours, and I didn’t have a take on him at all, other than my theory of why he might be going to Canada, and why he’d picked us up. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to mention my theory to Chloe. She’d be uncomfortable with it, maybe, even the possibility. And what she didn’t guess wouldn’t hurt her.

  When we came out into the store, Tyler was standing just outside the front windows, talking on his phone. Chloe and I picked out our sandwiches and drinks and got in line to pay. A road map was taped to the counter in front of the register, and right on our route, where I-29 touched the Canadian border, someone had written in ball-point pen, SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR FREEDOM.

  Chloe stared at it so long I wanted to nudge her. She’d lived in the US long enough to know that whoever wrote that just meant they didn’t want to turn in their guns. It didn’t have anything to do with her, or what would happen to her at the border. Still, I wished I could tell her, Don’t worry about that. That’s where you’ll be saying hello to your freedom!

  There were people all around us, though, so I couldn’t say anything. And anyway, she must have known, as I did, that a lot could happen between here and there.

  As soon as Tyler put his phone away, I went outside, with Chloe following behind.

  “Lot of snow, huh?”

  He nodded and took a step back from me.

  I pushed my hair out of my face. “And wind, too.” I pretended to kick snow off my boots, waiting for a couple coming out of the store to pass by us. On the other side of the interstate, a man shoveled snow off the flat roof of a truck stop.

  “So listen,” I said, speaking more quietly now. “It turns out my aunt lost her ID. She doesn’t have anything with her name on it.”

  He cocked his head. I could see my two reflections, side by side, in the lenses of his sunglasses. I didn’t look as scared as I felt.

  “And this is really crazy,” I continued, “but I myself don’t actually have a passport. I just have my driver’s license.”

  “You need a passport for the border,” he said. “You can’t get out, and you can’t get in. They don’t mess around.”

  He’d said it like that was the end of it. Nothing else to add.

  “Hmm.” I nodded, waiting as another man walked by. “There aren’t any, like, back roads or anything?” I took a breath. No backing out now. “If it’s out of your way, we could pay. Like three hundred dollars?”

  An old woman with a plastic kerchief over her hair was making her way from the handicap space up to the sidewalk. Tyler moved past me to hold open the door for her, staying quiet until she was inside. After the door closed behind her, he rubbed his lips together. It was hard to tell, because of the sunglasses, but it seemed like he was looking at Chloe.

  “Your aunt’s from Portugal?”

  He asked like he believed it, or like he would if I said yes. But I imagined he knew when to play dumb, too.

  “Yep,” I said. “Just visiting.”

  He took off his sunglasses. “I do know a way.” His amber eyes were steady on mine. “We’d have to go back into Minnesota. It’ll take a little longer, but not that much. For three hundred dollars, I don’t mind.”

  “Really?” I was almost 100 percent happy. I was only a little scared. “That’d be really nice. Thank you!”

  “Sure.” He checked his phone again and slid his glasses back on. “Just let me run in and get a few things for the road. And I’ve got to text my girlfriend and tell her I’ll be late.” He used his clicker to unlock his truck. “You and your aunt can wait inside. I’ll be right out.”

  He was already moving around Chloe toward the door. As soon as he passed her, she looked at me, and I could see in her eyes, how scared they seemed, that she was thinking what I was—there was a chance, a good one, that he was going inside to call the police. If that was what he was doing, it made sense that he’d want us waiting in his truck, secure and ready for pickup. Forget the three hundred dollars. He could make ten thousand with far less trouble.

  She stepped close to me, touching the sleeve of my coat.

  “Sarah-Mary. We’ll say good-bye here. Now. You have to go.”

  “What? Go where? Where am I gonna go?”

  She nodded toward the interstate. I knew she meant the truck stop on the other side, where the man was still shoveling the roof.

  “You want me to run across? Like a deer?”

  “Yes. Watch for cars, but please go now. In case he’s calling the police. If he isn’t, I don’t need you anymore. He knows, Sarah-Mary. You could see it on his face. He will either take me or he won’t.” Vapor streamed out from her mouth. “There’s nothing for you to do for me. Here.” She tugged off her glove, reached into her bag, and pulled out her red wallet. “Here’s two hundred.” Her hand was shaking. “Fargo will have a bus station. Call a taxi to get into the town. Don’t hitchhike by yourself. Take the bus home. Please know I will always be so grateful to you. But please go. Please.”

  I opened my mouth to argue with her, but just as a fat snowflake landed on my bottom lip, it occurred to me that I didn’t have to argue anything. I turned around and started walking toward Tyler’s truck. If he was turning us in, we were already done. We might as well get out of the cold.

  I got up in the front seat of the truck, closed the door, and stared straight ahead. I knew she’d get in behind me. She had to. I didn’t want to rub it in that she didn’t have any choice, and that she didn’t have any say in whether I stayed or went. I would have hated it, too, thinking someone else was going to get in trouble trying to help me, especially if I’d done nothing wrong in the first place.

  After a minute or so, she climbed into the back. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t turn around. I was already listening for sirens, for any kind of warning, and I imagined she was too. But there was just the snow falling softly around the truck. Cars drove up to the pumps, and drove away from them. A tall woman on her way up to the door started to slip, but she held out her arms and kept her balance.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t turn around. “I know me staying is just making you feel worse. I know you’ve already got enough on your mind. But I can’t go until I know you made it. Get mad at my brother if you want.” I shook my head. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t all of it. “Or consider it me trying to make up for everything. I’m trying to be a good American to you.” I closed my eyes. That had come out wrong, too. I couldn’t make it all up to her, even if she got out.

  She didn’t say anything. I turned around and saw she had her face in her hands. All I could see was a little bit of her hair and the top of her blue hat. I didn’t know if I’d made it even worse, saying what I’d just said. She’d come over here in the first place because she thought this was the one place she’d be free, and safe. Now her sister w
as in Nevada, and all her friends. She’d lost her house and her job. And maybe her husband and son.

  I couldn’t make up for that. But I was at least going to stay with her until the end, good or bad. I couldn’t promise her that, because she’d never let me. But too bad, I’d already promised myself.

  I looked back out my window and saw Tyler coming out of the store, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. He walked in front of the truck, a plastic bag with something in it swinging from his hand. He opened his door, slid in behind the wheel, and reached between the seats to put the plastic bag in back. After he closed his door, he just sat there, looking at me, his sunglasses still on. I couldn’t say anything, partly because I was so relieved, but also because I didn’t know what he was waiting for.

  Chloe reached up with three hundred-dollar bills, folded in half. He took them and pushed them into his back pocket.

  “All right.” He stretched his seat belt over his chest. “Everybody buckled in?” I nodded, and he glanced at Chloe in the rearview. “Okay then. Let’s go to Canada.”

  The engine growled awake, the truck rolled forward, and just like that, we were on our way.

  I hadn’t even unwrapped my sandwich before we were back in Minnesota, heading north on Highway 75. It was plowed as well as the interstate, but there wasn’t nearly as much traffic, and it seemed like enough of a back road to me. But after a while, we turned onto a two-lane that was even quieter, and then we turned left, and after another long while, right again. We kept stair-stepping like that, with nothing to see out the window but snow-covered fields, and every so often, a house or a barn or a hand-painted sign advertising firewood. Finally, we passed a sign that said Fertile, Minnesota, Pop. 842.

  “Guess it’s not that fertile,” I said. Tyler didn’t so much as smile, and I was polite enough to turn away before I rolled my eyes. I appreciated that he was still being careful, but even with a fugitive and whatever else he had going on in the truck, it seemed like he could lighten up a little, now that there weren’t any other cars around.