correctly. He had to back up to complete the turn. When he was in reverse, a car came around the curve, traveling fast. Alfred didn’t have time to do anything. He watched, mesmerized, as the headlights seemed to drill right into him, but the car swerved at the last second as it roared by, its horn blaring.
Now his shaking was from terror. He pressed the gas pedal, forgetting that his car was still in reverse. It flew backwards into the bushes alongside the road, narrowly missing a tree. He braked belatedly and finally got it into drive. The wheels spun for seconds. Then he surged forward with a squeal of tires, almost going off the road on the other side before he got the car under control.
He turned into the campground and stopped beside the office. He had to sit for several minutes until his bodily functions returned to a semblance of normalcy. He got out of the car. The first thing that registered was how cold the night air felt. It penetrated his sweatshirt and khaki pants. He was wearing all the clothes he had brought. He quickly entered the office to get warm.
When Alfred entered one of the campground restrooms, he remembered how poorly equipped he was. Not only was he underdressed, he also didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste. He hadn’t brushed his teeth for over thirty-six hours. He had to settle for rinsing his mouth out with water he sucked from a faucet by sticking his head into a sink and tilting his mouth up. He tried to remove the scum that coated his teeth with his tongue. He could imagine what his breath smelled like.
He didn’t have any shaving equipment either. Of course he was wearing a beard, but he was thinking that it might be better if he shaved it off. He had been in close proximity to Penny during those Sunday mornings in the cafe. If she saw him, she might recognize him by his beard.
He could sleep in his car, lying across the bench seat. That wasn’t comfortable, as he knew from his experience last night, but the worst part was that he didn’t have any blankets. He would freeze his ass off. He couldn’t handle that prospect yet. He decided to find Penny’s campsite.
The campground was dark and silent. The inhabitants slept in their tents or campers. It was too cold and too dark for anybody to be outside drinking wine at one of the wooden picnic tables. Alfred used his flashlight sparingly and walked warily along the rough roads of the campground, trying not to run into one of the many tall evergreen trees, or step on a large pinecone, or, worst of all, come into contact with one of the bears that his imagination saw prowling at night, looking for food.
It was a large campground, and he wasn’t at all sure of his directions. He had the feeling that he was going over the same paths again and again. Just as he was about to give up and return to his car-assuming he could find it-he spotted the green VW. In the dark it looked black.
He had to make sure it was the correct car. He came right up to it and stooped in front of the license plate. He shone the flashlight on it, shielding it with his hand so its rays wouldn’t spread. This was Gary’s car, all right. Next to the car was a small tent. What he would call a pup tent. It must be the smallest tent in the campground, just big enough for two people. If they were friendly. That thought brought back Alfred’s rage.
He stood motionless, a few feet from the tent, and stared at its dark outline. When he looked directly at it, the fabric blended into the blackness of the night and disappeared. The way he would like to make Gary disappear.
He heard noises coming from inside the tent. Whispers. Soft giggles. Then grunts. A stifled shout. He knew what they were doing. He pictured Penny’s body, the way it had looked when he saw it from her window. Perfect. The body of a goddess. And that bastard was ravishing her.
Alfred wanted to dive on top of the tent and bring it crashing down on them, then beat them with a fallen tree branch until they stopped. Stopped the whispers. And the giggles. The grunts and the cries. He would silence them. Forever.
No. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t kill Penny. Gary, yes. He could kill Gary in the blink of an eye. Easily. Without remorse. But Penny might still be his. She might see the light. Recognize that he was the only one who truly loved her. For months he had watched her from a distance. He had been afraid to approach her, afraid that she would reject him. Just like the one other girl he had been brave enough to approach had rejected him. But now he was ready to act. He had to act-before it was too late.
He silently backed away from the tent until he couldn’t hear the noises inside. Slowly his insides cooled. His skin cooled off more rapidly, matching the temperature of the night air. He shivered. He forced himself to start walking back toward his car. He needed to get some sleep. If he could.
CHAPTER 5
Penny laughed as she put a dime into the slot that turned on the water for the shower. A shower with class- cobwebs, peeling paint, and aromatic canvas curtains. What a way to start her wedding day. A nontraditional wedding day if there ever were one. Their conformity scores had been correct.
She and Gary had met through a computer matching service called Human Inventory. Although as Gary, the IBMer, had pointed out, the probability that the service actually used a computer in 1964 was not high. Computers were just barely up to that kind of challenge, and the programmers who could make them work were still too scarce for a startup company to employ.
The concept sounded good. Even if they’d only used a punched card sorter, it had worked for her and Gary. All applicants had taken a series of tests for interests and attitudes. Interests of matched couples didn’t have to coincide exactly; some diversity was good, but the scores should be close on several attitudes. And they were. They had both scored very low on conformity. Thus her easy acceptance of the current situation. And they had both scored high on-she peeked through the curtains to make sure nobody else was about, afraid that somebody might read her thoughts-attitude toward sex. Those scores had also been correct.
Gary fired up the Coleman stove he and Penny had purchased by pooling their Blue Chip Stamps and pondered how his life had changed so much in four short months. Well, okay, six months. Although it was just four months since Penny and he had met each other face to face. But for two months before that they had corresponded anonymously, through Human Inventory. He was Adam plus a number, and she was Eve.
Their letters covered a lot of territory, and by the time they went on their first date to the San Diego Zoo, they knew each other better than many couples do after months-or years-or forever. Gary wondered what would have happened if one or both of them hadn’t been truthful in the letters. They would certainly have found out on that marathon first date which had lasted twelve hours. It would have been two months down the drain, but then, life was a risky business.
Fortunately, they had been truthful, and they were still being truthful with each other. Although, Penny hadn’t told him about the notes and phone calls she had received until the night before last. However, he trusted her, and she trusted him.
Since their families were both on the east coast, if they were going to get married at all it was easier to do it this way than try to coordinate from long distance. He had mentioned the possibility of marriage to his mother on the phone a few weeks ago. She had immediately started naming the dates they weren’t available, including right now. They were in Europe on an extended vacation.
He put a pot of water on the stove to heat for cocoa, and a frying pan for eggs. He was happier than he’d ever been.
Alfred didn’t know whether it was the sunlight or the cold or the noises of other campers that woke him, but as soon as he opened his eyes, he was startled enough to take a quick look at his watch. Almost nine o’clock. Panic. What if the birds had flown?
