morning. He asked her how she had slept and solicitously examined the cut in her head. It became obvious to her as they ate breakfast that in her depravity she had done exactly what he wanted last night. She should use that to her advantage. Maybe she could get him to trust her more. She forced herself to smile at him and pretend to be happy. It was difficult, but it might help buy her freedom.
They repacked the stove and dishes in the camper and were ready to leave. Penny climbed into the passenger seat. When she saw Alfred pick up the roll of duct tape, she said, “Is that really necessary?” in her sweetest voice.
He hesitated, looking at her. She could almost see the wheels spinning in his brain. She held his eyes, trying to look her most seductive and most innocent at the same time. Promising bellybutton blow jobs and strict obedience. Finally he looked away and threw the tape into the storage cabinet.
Alfred sat in the driver’s seat, inserted the key into the ignition, and gave it a twist. There was no answering response from the starter. He tried again. Same result.
“The battery’s dead.” Alfred hit the steering wheel with his hand in frustration.
Penny didn’t know whether this was good news or bad news. The reason for it came to her.
“We left the dome light on last night.”
Alfred looked blank for a moment. He peered back at the offending light. He had obviously forgotten all about it. He got up and switched it off. He returned to his seat and tried the starter again. Nothing happened. He slumped over the steering wheel, at a loss as to what to do.
Penny knew what to do. She and Gary had been on one of their pre-honeymoon trips when they hadn’t been able to start the Beetle. They had both pushed it, and when its speed hit five miles per hour, Gary jumped into the driver’s seat with the ignition on and put it in gear. When he disengaged the clutch, it started. The camper had the same kind of transmission. The only problem was that it was a lot heavier, and they were parked on an uneven surface.
She debated whether to tell Alfred what to do. Was she better off with or without the camper? It was several miles to Route 1. She could certainly walk that distance-she had proved that-but would Alfred let her do it? She couldn’t outrun him. He might decide he couldn’t risk having her on foot and kill her here.
“It’s got a manual transmission. We can push-start it.”
“We can?”
Penny explained how she and Gary had started the Beetle. Then she and Alfred got out of the camper and surveyed the area. Even if they could move the camper with a push, it would be impossible for them to get it up to five miles-per-hour on the rough terrain. Penny saw that the only possibility was to push it back to the road, a distance of some thirty feet. The road sloped downhill toward the ocean.
Once the camper reached the road, it would roll of its own accord. One of them could jump into it and put it in gear. Then it would start easily. If she were the one to do that, she could just keep going and leave Alfred behind. She would be free. She was very tempted to try to talk him into it.
On the other hand, the person who jumped into the camper had a dangerous job. What if she didn’t make it and fell under the wheels? What if she didn’t gain control of the steering wheel soon enough and it hit a tree or went into the ditch that ran along one side of the road? It could easily roll over.
No, she would rather give Alfred that job. If he got hurt, she could make her escape. It sounded cold-blooded, but it was true. She had to remember that he had tried to kill her and Gary. He was the enemy. If the camper were wrecked, they would be no worse off than they were now.
An additional idea occurred to her. She explained to Alfred what had to be done. Then she said, “Before we do it, I need to go to the bathroom again.”
“You just went a little while ago.”
“I know, but it’s urgent. I need to get something to use for toilet paper.”
Not waiting for his acquiescence, Penny went into the camper and opened the storage cabinet. She extracted a pad of ruled paper she had seen there earlier, and the duct tape. She shoved the roll of tape underneath her sweater. The sweater’s bulk hid the bulge. She needed a pencil. She went forward and opened the glove compartment, keeping an eye on Alfred through the front windows. He was contemplating the logistics of what they were going to do and not looking at her.
She found a pencil, placed it in her pocket, and jumped out of the camper through the doorway with the sliding door. She headed toward the trees, flashing the pad at Alfred. That was her toilet paper. She went behind one of the big redwood trees. She was thankful for its bulk. He was watching and would see if she tried to escape, but he couldn’t see what she was doing.
She took the pencil out of her pocket and printed the words “Penny” and “Alfred” on the top sheet of paper of the pad in block letters. She held the pad in her hand as she wrote, and the letters came out very light. They wouldn’t be legible to somebody driving behind the camper. She had to find a way to darken them.
She knelt on the ground and placed the pad on one of her thighs. Then she went over the letters many times, pressing the pencil against the pad, trying to make them as dark as possible. Before she was satisfied with the result, the lead of the pencil broke. She swore to herself. She couldn’t go back and get another pencil. This would have to do. Gary had sharp eyes. Hopefully, he would be able to read her sign if he saw it.
Penny pictured Gary driving the Beetle, coming up behind the camper, and seeing her sign. This was how it had to work. Unless Gary decided she was more trouble than she was worth and abandoned her. Or maybe he thought she had run away with Alfred. That thought nauseated her. No, he would never believe that. He had to be looking for her. He wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t like him. She felt sorry for him, alone and not knowing where she was. He must be going through emotional hell.
Alfred called her name. In a minute he would come looking for her. She had to do one more thing. She pulled the duct tape out from beneath her sweater and tried to tear off a piece. She found she could tear it easily with her fingers. Good. She threw the pencil away and hid the tape under her sweater again. Then she folded the sheet of paper in quarters and placed it in her pants pocket. She walked back to the camper.
She checked to make sure Alfred had the camper in neutral with the parking brake off. She told him to turn on the ignition and leave the left, front door open. His station was by that door. If necessary, he could steer the camper with one hand while pushing with the other hand. He positioned himself and gave a push against the frame at a point beside the door hinges, grunting as he did so. It didn’t move.
“Hurry up and push.” His voice had a growl in it.
He was irritated that she was the brains of this undertaking. Penny took a position in back of the camper and pushed when Alfred did. It still didn’t move.
“Push harder.”
She almost said something obscene. What did he want from her? He outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. He had to provide the main effort. However, at his command, she pushed as hard as she could. Slowly, the camper moved forward a few inches. Then it stopped.
Penny used up her strength and couldn’t maintain the effort. She and Alfred must have let up at the same time, because the camper rolled back to where it had been and even a little farther. Then it rolled forward to the starting point and stopped.
“We’ll rock it,” Alfred said. “When it rocks forward, push with all your might.”
They pushed the camper forward and when it stalled they let it go back. When it rocked forward toward the original position, they pushed together “with all their might.” It almost stalled again at the point of furthest progress, but an extra effort on both their parts got it into new territory.
It continued to move forward slowly, begrudging the inches it gave up. The effort was exhausting. They had to stop several times to catch their collective breath, but each time they were able to get it moving again. Eventually, they moved it close to the road. One more push and it should start to roll downhill.
Penny looked around the camper at Alfred. “Do you know what to do?”
“I think so.”
Alfred looked inside the camper, presumably rehearsing in his mind the sequence he had to go through. Penny had an urge to tell him to be careful, but she suppressed it. It was in her best interests that he not be careful, and she found herself wishing for that eventuality. She was becoming a terrible person. She reminded herself that she couldn’t get any worse than she was already.
They gave a final shove, and the camper started rolling, slowly, by itself. It would quickly pick up speed on the slope. Penny stepped over to the side of it to see if Alfred had control of the situation. He didn’t look very
