that. How could he keep her hidden? Maybe somebody would see her and report it to the Highway Patrol. It was a faint hope, but he had nothing else to cling to.

This was an arduous process. Gary could easily spend all night doing this. Well, he might as well. It would keep his body and mind occupied. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to sleep.

***

Fort Bragg was an actual city, albeit not a large one. It had streets and people and even traffic lights. One would think it would offer an opportunity for Penny to escape. It might have, if Alfred hadn’t been as clever as he was. Penny couldn’t open her door or her window. She couldn’t even get up and hop to the sliding door.

She could pound on her window and mouth words to somebody who wouldn’t understand what she was saying. Alfred would retaliate; she knew that. No, there would be a better time. And place.

They were soon past Fort Bragg, driving along the rugged coast, where the sea lions and otters ruled, swimming and diving amidst the treacherous rocks that dotted the water near the shore. Seagulls were everywhere, staining the rocks with icky white pooh. Route 1 skirted Mendocino, because that city is located on a peninsula sticking out into the ocean. There were no other significant centers of population for a long way.

The sun was dropping toward the water like a sky diver whose parachute has just opened, slowly but inexorably. Penny suggested several campgrounds where they could spend the night. Campgrounds that might afford opportunities to escape. Alfred listened to her, but he didn’t say anything. If fact, he hadn’t been talking much at all. For somebody who was trying to woo her…

He slowed down. Penny wondered what he was doing. He pulled off Route 1 onto a dirt road that led inland, up into the hills. Away from the coast and even more deserted than the coast. Her heart sank. He had no intention of staying at a campground. He drove for several miles, bumping along on the uneven surface, filled with ruts and rocks. She wondered whether the camper would get stuck. If it did, would that be good or bad? Or maybe he would drive off a cliff. But he drove carefully. He wasn’t suicidal.

Alfred found a level place he liked and parked the camper under some redwood trees. Silent sentinels, watching over the land, but they weren’t watching out for her, Penny thought.

“Take off the tape, and I’ll cook dinner for us,” Penny said.

Actually, she hadn’t won any awards for cooking. She and Gary had been preparing simple meals on the trip. Growing up, she hadn’t done much more than boil water. She had driven out to California with two girlfriends two years before, right after college, and although they had teaching jobs lined up, the jobs didn’t start until September. They wouldn’t get paid until October. They had almost run out of money.

Penny’s aunt and uncle in Goleta took pity on them and gave them a place to stay until school started, but they had to get jobs. Penny lined up a job as a short order cook at Santa Claus Lane, near Goleta. She was supposed to start the same evening. She was petrified, because she knew she would botch it. She spent her last dollar on lunch and walked into the Goleta bookstore.

She talked as she had never talked before to convince the owner to hire her, telling him about her bookstore experience in accounting and inventory control, some of which was actually true. She would have done anything to get that job. Well, almost anything. He gave her the job. At the end of the summer, when she told him she was leaving, he told her that he had hired her just to find out what her real story was.

Before she and Gary left on their honeymoon, she purchased a Fannie Farmer cookbook, in preparation for her domestic duties in their apartment. She hadn’t read it yet.

Alfred surveyed the area. Penny followed his eyes. She could run into the trees, but where would she go? He must have decided it was safe, because he untaped her legs. She put on her shoes and got out of the camper. She had to exit through the sliding door, because the lock on the passenger door was still taped down. Once on the ground, she was glad to be able to stretch. Alfred got out the Coleman stove while Penny took a look at the food supply.

She was surprised there was so much-and it was nutritious. Canned fruits and vegetables. Hamburger in the refrigerator. Alfred hadn’t stocked it; she was sure of that. Did he steal the camper with the food already in it? He hadn’t said how he had obtained the vehicle, and she hadn’t asked. She didn’t want to do or say anything that might make him mad.

While Alfred set the Coleman stove on a flat rock and started it, Penny checked the utensil drawer for knives. The only knives she found were dull, not suitable for killing someone. Her plan to conceal one in her clothes faltered. She didn’t see any suitable weapons. She might find a rock to hit him with, but he kept her in sight at all times. She didn’t think she could get behind him.

It wasn’t difficult for Penny to cook an edible dinner, utilizing the hamburger and a couple of cans. If things had been different, she would have been proud of herself. The refrigerator contained soft drinks, and they had their own water supply. She found paper plates and cups. They ate at the table inside the camper.

It was time to talk about sleeping arrangements. So far, Alfred had shown no inclination to rape her. He must want something from her. She needed to get him talking.

“I’ll sleep on the top bunk. You can have the lower one.”

“The lower one is a double. Two people can sleep on it.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to crowd you.”

“We’ll both sleep on the lower bed.”

He said it with finality. Penny knew better than to argue. They cleaned up the frying pan and the pots, using water heated on the stove. She found dish soap, cloths, and towels among the supplies. When they were through, it was dark outside. Now what?

“Do you know how to play backgammon?” Alfred produced a backgammon set from the storage cabinet.

Surprised, Penny said with forced eagerness, “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play. Teach me.”

The longer she could postpone going to bed, the better. Although she knew they wouldn’t play backgammon all night.

CHAPTER 28

What did married couples do in the evening? Alfred wondered this as he told Penny the rules of the game. Did they play backgammon? Watch television? Of course, they didn’t have television here, but they would buy a set when they got back to L.A. Maybe Penny already owned one. He hadn’t been able to see into the living room of her apartment to find out.

She seemed to be very interested in learning how to play backgammon. He was glad of that. She was adjusting to life with him. They played game after game. After a while, Penny started beating him. She learned fast. That was all right. She should win some of the time. It was only fair.

After two hours of playing, Penny said she wanted to play more. She said she wasn’t sleepy. Well, he was. It had been a long day. He was ready to enjoy being in bed with her. That was what being married was all about, after all.

“One more game,” Alfred said. “Then we’re going to bed.”

***

Those were the words Penny had been dreading. They finished the game. She decided to try to get him talking.

“Alfred, you know a lot about what I’ve been doing, but I know very little about your recent history. In Seattle, we talked mainly about high school days. Tell me, when did you come to California?”

Alfred stared into space, as if he were thinking. Penny wondered whether he would tell her anything.

“About a year ago,” he finally said in a subdued voice.

“So you came out last summer?”

“Yes.”

Had he been spying on her all this time? Penny gave an involuntary shudder. Should she try to get him to

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