Rita looked down at her plate and returned to her dinner.
Jane waited for a few minutes, then said, “You can take a day or two to think about it if you want.”
“No,” she said. “I’ll do it. I’m just waiting to hear what else is wrong with me.”
“Nothing. We’re not correcting things, just changing them. You’re thin, and you wear your clothes tight. So I bought styles that are worn loose. They have vertical lines: sweaters and blouses that hang shoulder to hip, and pants that hang hip to ankle. There’s no disguising the fact that you’re thin, but we change your silhouette. They also make you look older and more sophisticated.” Jane hated herself for using those arguments, even though they were true.
“I like them. Don’t get me wrong. I like them a lot. I just don’t usually dress that way. They’re all one look, like they were made for a particular person I don’t know.”
“You have special requirements right now. There are lots of pants. I bought the right pair of shoes for each outfit. ‘Right’ doesn’t just mean they don’t clash. It means there are no high heels, no stacked heels, not even any slip-ons. If something goes wrong, your only chance will be to run.”
Rita kept eating methodically. She seemed to be listening, but she was not ready to divulge what she was thinking.
Jane finished her dinner, got up, and went around the corner of the counter to bring back two more big shopping bags. She caught Rita staring. “Accessories,” she explained. She lifted an eyeglass case and opened it. “These are photosensitive lenses with no prescription. When you’re in the sun they’re as dark as most sunglasses, but when you’re inside, they’re nearly clear.”
“Sunglasses?” Rita put them on and studied Jane’s face for a reaction.
“Perfect. You look good in glasses, and they change the shape of your face a bit. Wear them when you’re out.” She picked out a small silver box and opened it.
Rita’s eyes widened, and she kept her eyes on Jane as though she didn’t dare look. “Jewelry?”
“People wear it, so if you never do, you’re different. You don’t want to be different.”
Rita stared at the necklace and earrings on their cotton bed. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Glad you approve,” said Jane. She lifted the necklace out, put it around Rita’s neck, and clasped it. “You’ll notice the chain is very thin. That’s because if a man is trying to grab you, sometimes he’ll get his fingers around a necklace and pull. This one will break, and you’ll be gone.”
“But the stone … it looks real.”
“That’s another part of the image. You’re a woman like the ones in the hotel. You don’t want anything that’s not real. But this is a peridot, and they’re cheap. This one’s the size of your thumbnail and it cost a couple of hundred dollars. It adds to your cover. Your papers say you were born in August, and it’s your birthstone.”
Rita carefully lifted the earrings to her ears.
“Those too,” said Jane. “If somebody spots you, don’t forget to take them off.”
Rita stared at Jane sullenly. “You try to make everything sound practical and cold, like some kind of trick. But you’re giving me presents. Why are you pretending?”
Jane avoided her eyes. “I didn’t say you couldn’t enjoy them, I’m just teaching you things.” She pulled out the next jeweler’s box and opened it with a click. “Here’s something else. Most people wear watches.”
Rita took the watch off its holder. “What a great watch!” She put it on and held out her arm to gaze at it, then looked at Jane. “It’s all so … pretty, so much better than anything I’ve ever had before.”
“I’m glad. But if you lose any of it, or have to duck out without stopping for it, don’t give any of it a second thought. Never compromise your safety for things.” She added, “If it bothers you, let me know afterward and I’ll replace them.”
Rita looked confused. Her eyes were glistening. “Why would you do all of this for me?”
“I admit that I might have overdone things a little this time, because we could both use a bit of pleasure right now. But the idea is always the same. A shopping trip takes a day, and it doesn’t involve risking my life or yours.”
“But why are you doing any of it—anything at all?”
“Because it works. And I do like you. There’s no reason to lie about that. But I also have calculated, practical reasons for everything I do. If you look different, you’re harder to spot. If you’re happy, you won’t do anything foolish to make yourself happy. But if you’re found, then I’m in danger too.”
Rita’s face looked suddenly brittle. “I would never tell them anything.”
Jane said only, “Thanks.” There was no reason to go into all of the reasons why feeling that way wasn’t sufficient. She reached into the other shopping bag. “I got you a new purse.”
It was a large black leather shoulder bag with a thick strap. Rita took it into her hands and felt the soft, smooth leather, then reached inside and took out the tissue paper that the manufacturer had stuffed inside to make it hold its shape.
Jane could read her mind as she ran her hands along the inner surfaces and measured each of the big compartments. She was checking to verify that it would hold the small collection of treasures that she arranged around her body at night.
Suddenly Rita stood up, threw her arms around Jane, and hugged her. Rita’s head rested on Jane’s shoulder, and she swayed almost imperceptibly from side to side, as though she were rocking in her mother’s arms.
The next day, Jane brought home the car. She parked it close to the apartment, went inside, and led Rita to the window. “That’s yours,” she said.
“Mine?”
“You can’t live here without a car. It’s a Honda Accord, because it has the right look and price for your new personality. They sell over three hundred thousand of them a year, and I doubt if the owners can tell one year from another. The temporary registration is in the glove compartment, and the final one will come in the mail.” She handed Rita the keys.
“Can I try it?”
“You’ll have to,” said Jane. “I left my rented one near the dealer’s lot, so I need a ride back. After that, park it in your space in the lot.”
Jane studied Rita’s driving habits with the critical eye of a licensing examiner. She was relieved. Rita was competent, and she was cautious enough to keep Jane from having nightmares, but she wasn’t timid. Jane followed Rita home, and detected no uncertainty in Rita’s ability to remember the route.
When they were home, Jane said, “Leave the car there for now. You’ll have to drive it a little about once a week to charge the battery and keep oil on the moving parts. Keep the tank full.”
She sat at the kitchen table, took a road map out of her purse, and unfolded it. “When you drive the car, there’s something else you can do. I’ve marked a couple of routes. Study them.”
Rita leaned over her and looked. “They’re pretty complicated.”
“When you’ve memorized them, take the car out and drive them over and over. Practice until you could do it fast at midnight with your headlights off. Then destroy the map.”
“They don’t seem to go anywhere.”
“They go out of town. They take you out in ways that most people wouldn’t expect you to know, and a person from out of town would have a hard time following. There are lots of twists and turns and, in each one, a place where you backtrack.”
“Why?”
“Most people who are running drive straight to the nearest freeway entrance ramp and push the pedal to the floor. That’s a bad idea. These routes take you past a few entrances for freeways going in different directions, then send you off instead on roads that aren’t as well known, but where you can go nearly as fast. At rush hours, the freeways jam up, but these roads don’t, so they’re actually faster.”
“I guess I meant why am I doing this now? Did you see somebody following us?”
“No. You take all the precautions at the beginning, so if you see anything suspicious, you don’t have to waste time making plans. You see it, and you go.”
“Out of town. What then?”
Jane said, “Find me again, and I’ll help you start over.”
“I get a lifetime guarantee?”
“My lifetime,” said Jane. “That’s not so good. I’ve been doing this a long time. Every time I do it again— probably every time I leave my house—the odds against my coming back get worse. You don’t have to remember all
