by A. J. Flynn
She couldn’t understand how the high grey walls, each one solid and impregnable, could stand over a man laughing at him until they had rotted his very soul. She couldn’t understand how often he woke from nightmares of those walls, dripping with sweat. If he was forced to go back he would die. Like a plant that’s been shut away from the light, he’d dry up and die.
When he’d packed what little clothes he dared, he brought the suitcase out with him to the garage. Hayley never looked in the car trunk, so he figured he was safe in putting it there.
While he locked up the trunk, he noticed a boxful of clothing Hayley had gathered for charity, and he remembered that his army clothes were in it. It had been years since his discharge, but for some reason, Hayley had kept his summer uniform.
He rummaged through the box and found his pants and shirt. He looked them over carefully and sighed with relief. Without their insignia they looked like plain olive-colored work clothes. He took out his pocket knife and cut the thread that was holding the brightly colored patches. Once they were off he unlatched the trunk and put them alongside the suitcase.
Nobody would ever connect the man wearing work clothes with the dapper Harry Valentine.
Keep to your ordinary routine, he told himself, as he made his way back into the house. Just do the things you do every night.
Back in the kitchen he put on a pot of coffee. He would have preferred a drink, but he seldom touched the stuff and he wasn’t quite sure how it might affect him.
While he waited for his coffee, he sifted through the freezer for something to eat. Whenever he returned home earlier than Hayley, he was always the one who got things started. The coffee had just finished dripping when the phone rang.
He answered it and heard Hayley’s familiar voice on the other end of the line.
“I’m sorry, babe, but I’ll have to work late tonight. We just received a big shipment of new items and Miss Vanity insists we have to do the inventory tonight, so we can unpack everything tomorrow. I’m afraid I won’t be back in until late.”
He could have cried with relief. Talk about luck. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about keeping her in the dark all evening.
“That’s too bad, honey,” he said. “Try not to work too hard.”
“I’ll try. Will you be able to find something for supper?”
“Sure, don’t worry. I’ll grab something a little later, then I think I’ll turn in. I’ve had a rough day.”
“All right, I’ll try to keep quiet when I get home, so as not to disturb your sleeping. And Harry—” she began, then stopped.
“Yeah.”
“How are you feeling today?”
He felt a quick flash of anger. What she really wanted to ask was whether or not he was still scared stiff, but he did his best to control himself.
“I’m fine. Just a bit tired is all, like I said.”
“Alright, babe. I’ll see you later.”
“Later.” He hung up with a smile.
His plans appeared foolproof. Hayley kept the car most days, because he could usually use the service truck if he had any errands. However, last night they had left the truck at the shop because they’d stayed downtown for dinner. Usually, whenever they did that, she took him to work before heading off to her job, but he had come up with a logical reason to give her for keeping the car in the morning.
He would tell her he had just received a new account, and that he wanted to make a good impression. It would look better for him if he had the car, instead of arriving in a service truck. As close as he could tell, he had thought of everything.
It was tough to kill time. There was the news, websites, social media, and television, but none of them could hold his interest for long. Finally, it was nine o’clock and he decided to go to bed. Once he started on his way, he wanted to put as many miles as possible between himself and their home, so there was little telling when he might get the chance to sleep again.
He was getting ready for bed and brushing his teeth when he happened to notice Hayley’s sleeping tablets. The label said, “Take one pill before bed.” He poured three out into his palm and filled a glass of cold water. Usually he avoided medicine like the plague, but tonight he needed to sleep and he was going to make sure he got it.
He crawled into bed and forced himself to relax. The pills acted quickly, and within ten minutes he was fast asleep.
When consciousness finally came back to him he was in a limbo state of half wakefulness. His head was pounding and his tongue felt like a skunk’s pelt. For a while he wasn’t able to make out where he was or why he felt so terrible.
When he finally managed to pry open his eyes, he suddenly remembered.
Hayley was lying by his side, breathing softly, with her face hidden in the crook of her elbow. He eased his way out of the bed and tip-toed to the bathroom. The face reflected back at him in the mirror was embarrassing.
Both of his eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and his entire countenance seemed to sag as if he’d somehow added twenty years during the night.
He popped a couple aspirins and walked to the kitchen. Aspirin and coffee, he thought, as he rinsed the coffeepot and started a fresh batch. Aspirin and lots of coffee, or I won’t even be able to make it to the front door, let alone through the mountains.
Back in their bathroom he wet a towel in cold water and pressed it to his face. The icy chill swept over him like a shock, but he kept at it. After a few more applications his head felt much clearer, and there was hardly any color in his face.
I feel even worse than if I’d stayed up all night, he thought to himself, as he quietly dressed. Then he made his way back to the kitchen.
The coffee was still dripping, so he removed two glasses from the rack and poured orange juice for both himself and Hayley.
He was on his third cup of coffee when a sleepy-eyed Hayley joined him. She still wasn’t fully awake, but nonetheless looked lovely in her light yellow nightgown. There was no denying that the girl had a sense of style and he wondered in passing if she’d chosen yellow because it complemented the green of the kitchen.
“I smelled coffee. It woke me up before my alarm. Couldn’t you sleep?”
“I got more than enough sleep. It was just a little after nine when I turned in. Did you finish up the inventory for that ogre?”
“Yes. Actually, tallying up inventory isn’t too bad, it’s having to wait around while she examines every item for rips or stains, then having to listen to her complain when she finds one that’s the hard part.”
“You should look for a different job. She’s a nightmare to work for. Coffee?”
“Mmm,” she answered. “I can’t seem to wake up all the way this morning. Maybe I should take a cold shower; Madame won’t be pleased if I’m not on my toes. She’s called up everyone she knows to let them know there’s a new shipment in.”
“All right, but make it fast.” Harry said carefully, “I’d like to get an early start. Harding is thinking about air-conditioning his storage area. I’d like to catch him before he gets too caught up with other stuff. I should have a better chance of selling him that way.”
“I’ll be quick. You want the car?”
“Might be best—good impression and all that.”
“Well, you can pick me up later then.”
“Yeah.”
He’d managed to hold his voice steady, but his knuckles grew white as his hands clenched his cup. He didn’t like lying to her like that, even though it was necessary. She was a good woman and he loved her. At least he loved her far more than any other woman he’d ever known.
She had worked hard while he had been locked up in prison, saving every dime she’d earned so that he could dine on steak when he got out. He was able to study air conditioning while he’d done his time, and planning to have his own business where nobody could ask him any questions was the only thing that kept him sane. She had even carried on working, so he could get started, and then so he could have enough money to bra
nch out into home appliances.
She had done all that for him without a hint of complaint, and so once she learned he had gone, it was sure to be hell for her. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was cause her pain, but he simply didn’t have the courage it took to stay.
Hayley got dressed with her normal speed and the final result was as attractive as ever. She had put on a high-necked brown dress with lots of light silver jewelry. Her short, dark hair clung to her finely shaped head in small satined ringlets. Harry studied his wife appreciatively, and tried his best not to linger on the fact that he might never see her again. He was willing to do anything for her, except face the possibility of re-imprisonment.
They chatted about the usual things as they drove downtown. What would be good for dinner, how was Ernest working out at the shop, and hope you have a good day.
He let her out at the corner of Palisade and Walnut and sat watching as she sashayed up the street with her graceful stride. Once she was out of sight, he swallowed hard, set the car in gear and accelerated towards the appliance store.
It was still early, so he could be in and out before the office girl and servicemen had even arrived. They didn’t bank their cash until the end of the week, so there would likely be a fair amount in the safe. He didn’t know for sure how much, but it should be enough to take him a long way.
He let himself in through the back and straight to the restroom where he changed out of his suit pants and shirt. He’d forgotten to bring a hanger, so he was forced to roll up his good clothes. They’d end up getting wrinkled, but it couldn’t be helped.
He stepped out into the store and peeked through the front window. Nobody was watching, so he hurried to the safe and opened it. There wasn’t enough time to count the money, but there was a good-sized roll and it was clustered in small denominations. That was good. He wouldn’t have any trouble exchanging it.
After shoving all he could into his wallet and cramming the rest of it in his various pockets, he made his way to the office girl’s desk.
It was prudent to leave a note. With a note to calm their fears, nobody would start looking for him until Hayley had sounded the alarm, and he was sure that once she knew he had left, she would give him a good start.
He tore a sheet out of a scratch-pad, picked out a pen and began to write. “Dear Kyle: Got a chance to bid on some damaged appliances, so I might not be in today. I took some money from the safe. Please ask Ernest to take as many calls as he can, and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. HV”
Once the note was finished, he went to the back door, turned around and took one last long look at the refrigerators, washers and dryers and other electrical gadgets, then hurried out and locked the door behind him.
The whole way out of town, and even once he’d entered the highway, he drove with excessive care. The road was riddled with radars, and he wasn’t in a position to be stopped. Every sign and signal received his undivided attention, even though the urge to stomp on the gas was strong.
Finally, he came to the Sagan Pass turnoff. It was a far older and winding road than the one near the south of town, but this was the last place he had to stop. He had to get another car.
It was only about ten miles from the turnoff to James Marlboro’s garage, but the trip seemed like it might take forever.
The old man had been one of Harry’s first customers when he’d first gone into business and they had remained friends ever since. He was an opinionated old man, but with proper handling, Harry thought he might be able to exchange cars with him. James was an expert mechanic, and all you usually had to do was mention that something was wrong and he was off to the races, wrench in hand.
Finally, Harry spotted the sign that read “Marlboro’s Service” and pulled up beside the neatly-shaped building. James had just finished unlocking the pumps when he pulled in.
“Hey there, old timer,” Harry called as he stepped out.
The older man glanced around for a moment, then smiled and began walking towards him, hand outstretched. “Harry! Good to see you. I didn’t recognize you at first, without those fancy clothes of yours.”
The old man was nearing sixty-five and his posture was beginning to stoop. His face was wrinkled, but incredibly flushed. The red came half from the dry mountain air and half from his previous night’s whiskey.
Harry forced a grin. “Yeah, well I’m a working man today. Ernest, my serviceman, is out sick, so I’ve got to make a call at the grocery down in Santana. Their freezer is on the brink and I’ve got to get down there and fix it before the food spoils.”
“Well,” James said soberly, “I’ve never heard of food not spoiling just so a man can stop and visit.”
Harry punched him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t get too happy. I had a reason for stopping by. Something’s wrong with my car. Three times since I started up the pass the thing damn near quit on me. I’ll be driving along then all of a sudden, no matter how hard I push her, I can’t seem to get more than fifty miles an hour. I’m scared she’ll give up on me altogether as soon as I start hitting the steeper grades.”
James frowned. “That could be any one of several things. I’ll take a look.”
“Well, you’ll have to make it quick. Remember, around fifteen-hundred pounds of food will have to be chucked to the garbage if I can’t get there soon.”
Harry held his breath after he spoke. This was clever. James had a great aversion to rushing himself whenever he was working on an engine. Car care was his job, and he took great personal pride in seeing that it ran as close to perfect as was humanly possible.
James trailed a fingernail down along his bristly cheek, and thought. “Wouldn’t want to hurry,” he muttered, while Harry’s nerves screamed.
“Maybe I better just go ahead and try to make it. That grocer will have to take a big loss if that food spoils.”
“Tell you what. You can take my car then come pick yours up on the way back. That way I can have time to work on it. It’s probably not anything serious, but sometimes it’s hard to tell.”
“If you say so,” Harry blurted, shaking with relief. “I might be back late, though.”
“That’s fine. If I’m not here, just leave the keys stowed in the glove compartment.”
Now that his plan had pulled through, Harry was impatient to get on his way. The more miles he would be able to put between himself and the cops, the better his prospects.
“Thanks a lot, James. I’ll grab my bag and be on my way. That grocer’s gonna be madder than heck if he loses money just because I’m late.”
He hurried to his car and grabbed the suitcase and his bunched-up clothes. Then he tossed them in the back seat of James’ car and, with a quick wave, drove off.
He arrived at the summit, passed the lake and started down along the other side. It seemed to mark the end of his life as it had been. He was already brainstorming what name he should use in his new life, and what sort of work he might be able to get.
The car was purring along, as any car of James’ would, when he took notice of a red flare flickering in the center of the road. It startled him so much that he slammed on his brakes, causing the car to slide on the damp road. He fought the wheel for a few moments, then finally managed to straighten it out. Then he came to a complete stop on the shoulder of the road. That was just what he needed—a wreck.
There had been a tire slide, and a good-sized one at that.
Three cars were pulled to the side of the road, and the drivers were gathered together talking. He pulled up behind them and got out. They all looked up in unison as he approached.
“Say,” one of them said good-naturedly, “if one of us has a deck of cards, we could play blackjack.”
Harry managed a smile. “Hi, there. Any idea how long it might take to clear this up?”
One of the other men spoke up. “The State trooper went out to pick up a bulldozer. Told us the garage was only three miles away, so they should be back anytime now.”
“Did he know how long it might take to do the job?” Harry insisted.
“No, he didn’t say, but I used to work in the construction business, and if their dozer is a decent size, it shouldn’t take any more than a couple hours.”
Harry’s heart sank.
Two hours… Possibly more.
He didn’t have the time to spend waiting around for them to finish, but what could he do?
“Here comes the dozer,” one of the men said, pointing down the road.
“Guess I’ll head on back to my car and have myself a nap,” Harry said nervously. “I had to wake up early this morning.” He was in no position to be dealing with the law.
Once back in the car he hunkered down behind the wheel like a man who was preparing for a nap. It took every ounce of his willpower, but he somehow managed to sit quietly for ten minutes before the craving for a cigarette grew too strong. Reluctantly, he sat up in his seat and lit up. He took a long, hard drag and inhaled deeply. The smoke stung at his throat, but it felt good.
The other drivers were standing in the road, watching the machine’s progress. He knew it might look more natural for him to join them, but he didn’t dare risk it. Every moment that passed reduced his chances of getting away, and the strain he was under was growing more noticeable.
He smoke the cigarette until the ashes began burning his fingers, then flicked it out through the window and slumped down for another pretend nap. He set his elbow on the armrest and laid his head over on his hand. He was finally settled, when a voice to his side caused him to startle.
“Say, sir,” were the words he heard.
He looked up and saw a state patrolman standing beside his open window. It was as though someone had just dumped ice water over him.
“Sorry if I woke you, but you’re gonna have to watch those butts. The woods aren’t too dry, but it could still start a fire.”
Harry sat up straight and managed an answer. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
