drinking, I really don’t. There, I guess I’ve got the worst of them washed off. Nothing seems to be bleeding now-I guess I don’t need bandages. You wouldn’t happen to have some water and a couple aspirin, would you?”
“No, sorry. Coffee in that Thermos.”
“Thanks.”
She uncaps it and the rich aromatic steam hits her nostrils. She pours into the cap. “Want some?”
“You go ahead.”
She knocks it back, not minding when it scalds her throat. “God that’s good. I don’t know how to begin to thank you for picking us up.”
“You ready to go now?”
“Any time.”
“Here we go then.”
He switches off the interior dome light and his hands jab at various levers and buttons and the big steering wheel. It all looks more complicated than the controls of Charlie’s airplane. The engine begins to growl and the steel floorplates begin to vibrate under her feet, reminding her of the blister on her heel. Doug Hershey checks his mirrors and eases out the clutch and the rig begins to gather speed down the shoulder of the highway.
He says, “There’s an all-night truck stop about twenty-five minutes down the road. I was going to stop there anyway.”
I don’t want to show myself in any damn highway cafe around here, she thinks. But what am I going to do about it?
Well you’ve got twenty-five minutes to figure that out.
The noise increases. Pretty much up to speed now, the rig moves out into the traffic lane and the driver relaxes back in the seat, hanging one wrist on the near rim of the wheel, glancing down at the baby asleep in her lap. He says something she doesn’t catch.
“What?”
He rolls up the window. The blast of wind diminishes. He says, “I said she’s a cute baby.”
“Yes. She’s very special.”
She feels lightheaded with exhaustion. Her eyes move fitfully around within the unfamiliar enclosure. It has a smell-old leather, metal, engine oil, tobacco-that infuses her with deja vu.
Of course. It was the smell of her father’s camper pickup.
The seat is high and firm; her feet barely reach the floor. The truck rides more gently than she thought it would but she keeps one hand protectively on the baby just in case.
She says, “If there’s someplace that’s not out of your way where we can catch a bus-”
“Albany be all right? I’m picking up the thruway there, heading on west.”
“What are you carrying?”
“Syndicated Van Lines. I’ve got a couple households full of furniture. People moving out west. I’ve got a two- bedroom house to Salt Lake and a three-bedroom to Portland.”
“That’s a long way to drive by yourself.”
“I pull over and sleep a few hours every now and then.”
He’s got both hands on the wheel now; he’s scowling. Suddenly he says, “I hate getting shoved into a position where I have to play God, don’t you? Where you have the power over somebody else’s life that you didn’t even ask for?”
The earnest plea in his voice surprises her. She only watches his face, illuminated by the faint green glow of the dashboard and the on-off-on-off reflection of headlights off the dotted white stripe in the highway.
He says: “I don’t want this decision. I really don’t.”
She has a premonition and it makes her hold the baby tighter.
It’s a feeling like ice on her spine.
He says, “I’m not a hundred percent sure you’re the right woman because the CB said she was blond. But there’s some guy in Plattsburgh offering twenty-five thousand dollars reward to anybody who turns you and that baby in.”
65
Dazzled by the lights she squints crankily and mutters, “Where are we?”
“Truck stop.”
The rig grinds to a halt with a hiss of air brakes. He switches everything off. The sudden lack of vibration becomes not merely a silence but a void.
The touch of his hand on her forearm. “You awake?”
“Yes.” Barely.
“You’d better not show your face in there. Anyhow you’re in no shape for it. I’ll bring some stuff out. What do you want besides aspirin?”
“I don’t know. Something to eat I guess. Maybe some warm milk for the baby.” She feels around the cab. “Where’s my handbag? I’ll give you some money.”
“Never mind. Pay me back later. Hamburger all right or are you a vegetarian?”
“A hamburger would be heaven right now. Make it two.”
He opens his door and climbs down. She can see his head and shoulders in silhouette. She’s trying to keep her eyes open; dazed, she tries to focus her attention on the very important thought that hovers just out of reach.
He says, “You’re just going to have to trust me, you know.”
Then the door closes with a soft click and he’s gone.
Groggily she rubs her eyes and begins to shake her head to clear it but the movement makes her aware of the headache.
She shifts to one side and sets the sleeping baby down on the seat beside her. Then she opens the door and steps down, hanging onto things, but still she slips once and abrades her shin. When she’s standing on solid ground she braces both arms against the truck and leans on them. Her head drops forward and she sucks in deep breaths.
Finally she reaches up and carefully lifts the baby down. Ellen’s eyes flutter and there’s a moment of recognition but then she drowses again.
“There must be a ladies’ room around here.”
Carrying the baby she wanders toward the station. Several trucks are parked beside it and there are a few cars out front, one of them getting filled up at the pumps. She sees the Men’s and Ladies’ signs hanging above unlit doors along the side of the station; she tries the knob of the Ladies’ but it’s locked and she scowls at it for a long time before she turns away and plods sturdily around into the office of the station.
The attendant is still out at the pumps serving his customer. From the wall she unhooks the restroom key with its huge wooden tag; she trudges back outside with the single-minded determination that comes with extreme exhaustion.
As she unlocks the door and goes inside she finally realizes what the thought was-the one that kept evading her in the truck.
Suppose he’s in there making a phone call?
66
We’ve got choices. We could disappear back into the woods behind the place. We could just stay here in the bathroom and hope he thinks we’ve run off, and wait till he drives away and then try and hitch a ride with someone else.
We could call a cab.
